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St. Helena's Home for Unwed Mothers sadly resembled St. Ursula's Home for Lost Children. Unlike Briarcliff, they didn't use electroshock therapy or scorching baths for punishment. All three institutions were run by the Catholic church. On the outside it appeared as though St. Helena's was the less disturbing of the three. It was advertised as a home compared to a ward. A haven for those who found themselves in a family way, away from the harsh judgments of society. She had to admit, the nuns here weren't as awful as the ones she grew up with at St. Ursula's. Maybe because they knew that the girls were already being punished enough, they didn't have to strike them or starve them. Then again, these girls were in no condition for physical mistreatment.

Mary Eunice was nothing like the other girls, the ones who came to St. Helena's as promiscuous teenagers. She let it remain a mystery as to how someone so different could find themselves in the exact same situation as the rest.

The meals were more wholesome here, although by standards they had to be for funding to continue. The commercials followed through, because from the outside it didn't look like an institution, but a house. And it was, filled with dozens of teenagers looking to give a new life to their babies.

Mary Eunice, however, knew better. It was a trap. She had spent one month here prior to being transferred to Briarcliff and she knew every awful thing that was inflicted on the girls. From the unsanitary environments during delivery to the unqualified medical staff, some who weren't even licensed.

The living quarters were simple rooms like the one she had at the asylum. Some girls had to share, but she was fortunate enough to be given a private room next to the other nuns, at Sister Jude's request.

"You don't have to go back there," expressed the older nun before she left, the one who she used to look up to and confide in. After she reversed Sister Jude's confinement as a patient and forced her back into the role of management. She would never forgive herself for confining and abusing the mother she never had while under possession. "Yes, I do," she responded eventually and painfully. After much deliberation, she decided that this would be her punishment. She had to pay for everything she had done.

The worst part about being possessed was that she was there for all of it. And what she could never quite describe was how reality somehow amplified during the spell. Everything was louder and darker, she could "feel" more than she ever had before. Physical touch alone was enough to make her shudder at the memories.

And now that she was in her third trimester, she regretted her decision to do this.

It was lightless and depressing. No one ever smiled, not even when the babies kicked. It wasn't fair to let themselves be proud for even a moment, not when it wouldn't last.

Twenty minutes. That was the time they were given to say good-bye to their children after delivery. In a dark, damp little room by the nursery, they would sit in a chair, stiff and aching from birth. And they would hold the child that they had nurtured underneath their hearts. It would yawn and they would cry, trying to memorize every little detail of these twenty minutes that would have to last a lifetime.

And then it would be taken away forever, with the mother's consent or not.

This was why she asked to be transferred, because it was just too heartbreaking to watch a girl change her mind only to be told that it was too late.

It was a waiting game for them, death row. They usually arrived in their sixth month, when their families could no longer hide them from the critical eyes of society. Some arrived earlier, just as Mary Eunice did. She was placed there almost immediately following the discovery.

The abomination that was once a nun, whose fall nearly killed her but after mere weeks in the infirmary and a month on bed rest, she was well. It was a miracle; the spirit was gone and her soul was free. No doctor would be able to make sense of how she beat death. And no one knew how to react when she wanted to stay in the order. Except Sister Jude, she understood that Mary Eunice had been raised as an orphan in the Catholic church and that it was all she had.

Everyone assumed her nausea and fatigue was typical from the months of being possessed. Only she knew the real reason.

The black angel hovered over her resting body. She greeted it with a smile; she knew she was now safe to go home, into the Father's arm where she belonged.

She was beautiful, serene and melodic-like. The very sight of her brought so much peace to the soul that had been fighting for, for so long.

"Take me," the bleeding essence pleaded. The angel got closer, she nodded her head.

"Let go."

Mary Eunice smiled weakly, "The Father still loves me?"

"I'll take both of you," she said with her eyes fixed below the cleansed nun's chest.

The pain of the fall began to set in, and the young woman could barely speak but something inside her stirred when the angel got close to her face.

"Don't let it escape this time. Take the spirit."

"The spirit has returned to which he came from. You will come with me now, and the child will too."

Pause. The child, did she hear correctly?

And then when her eyes furrowed, the angel placed her hands just below her navel.

She gasped for air and winced at the horrible pain in her chest. The child? The Monsignor, the red dress.

She didn't need a moment to think, it was an obvious answer.

"I'm…" she stuttered, now unable to speak. The first thing she had control of since she was taken from herself.

"No…no, this isn't right," she croaked as loud as she could, which was barely at all.

Her hand made its way over her stomach, destroying any doubt that the angel might've had. The angel nodded her head as if she agreed, and disappeared before her very eyes.

Sister Jude was the only person she told. The two discreetly made plans to send Mary Eunice to a place where she could continue recovering from her traumatic ordeal. She would do whatever it took to reclaim her name and her life, although both would probably never return to her. Above everything, she wanted to go back in time and erase what she did to two of the most important people in her life. Sister Jude vowed to keep her secret, even from the father of the child.

That wasn't a difficult vow to uphold, though. The Monsignor was long gone by then, and it was probably for the best. Because there was no way that she could ever face him again.

"You know that once they've got you, you can't change your mind," said Sister Jude before the van picked her up and drove her to St. Helena's. It was only a five-minute drive, because the buildings were so close in proximity, and shared the same woods. Mary Eunice couldn't even turn around to look at Sister Jude. That was the whole point. Because she already loved this child more than life itself, and she needed the choice to be out of her control.

"Please forgive me, Sister. For everything," she said looking over her shoulder and sniffling as she headed out the back door.

"Let me go! Let me go!" The growls came from the hallway. Mary Eunice got out of bed and walked toward the door, she stuck her head out only to see the backs of three people walking down the hallway. A girl in the middle of two orderlies was being dragged down the long corridor.

"Get your hands off of me!" she was kicking and screaming but to no avail. Mary Eunice watched as they turned the corner out of her view. They hadn't gotten a fighter in a while, but that would change. They would find ways to make her behave. Whether that be isolation or sedation, that girl would soon learn who was in charge around here: them.

She rested her hand over her stomach when it began to kick fiercely, almost causing her pain.

"There, there," she whispered thinking about all of crazies at Briarcliff, "it's nothing we haven't seen before."

In the next chapter, I'm going to introduce an OC that has significant ties to Freakshow. I appreciate feedback and constructive criticism so leave a review if you have a moment. Thank you!