Author's Note: This a modern story...the stuff you are reading is based off of a real polygamous community here in the United States. Thank you so much for the support!
P.S. The polygamists in this story practice Mormonism (a form of Christianity). They follow the Book Of Mormon and depending on the cult, the Bible, too. They believe and celebrate Jesus Christ and follow the practices of most Christians.
I heard a knock on my door twenty minutes later.
My parents walked in, talking to each other with smiles on their faces. They both looked so happy until they saw my tear-stained cheeks. Did they even care anymore that I had left the bathroom against my father's instruction?
"You can't make me," I hissed, taking a step back away from them.
The vein in my father's neck bulged through the skin and my mother's mouth fell open in surprise.
"You are going. You are going to bring some honor to this family. I couldn't care less about your feelings," He barked, making my heart skip.
He stepped forward, grabbing my arm roughly. He moved his face just inches from my own and I couldn't stop crying.
"How can this be right? I'm seventeen...I'm a child," I sobbed.
"You should be ashamed to have the audacity to question our leader. You will marry that man." His face was a deep red and his grip on my arm tightened.
"Mikael," My mother whispered behind him.
His head snapped around and he roared at the woman.
"Let me take care of this," He shouted.
"Tomorrow morning you will marry Damon Salvatore with some respect and obedience. He is a good man and you should be praising your Creator for all He has done for you," He growled through clenched teeth.
His grip instantly loosened and he stormed from the room, leaving just my mother. Her head was bowed as he exited, just like the good wife I was soon expected to be.
"Mom, I-I can't," I cried, trembling.
"Elena, I was sixteen when I married your father. It was hard, but I learned quickly that being subordinate makes life so much better. You were destined to marry this man and the sooner you accept that, the easier it will be," She said softly.
"H-how many wives?" I asked nervously.
"You will be his third," She whispered with a smile.
"I can't marry a man I've never even met," I whimpered, but my mother was too busy grabbing the suitcase out of the closet beside my bed.
She began to pack, humming her favorite hymn as she went along. The bag was lighter than I thought. A few dresses, The Book of Mormon, The Bible, a toothbrush, and my childhood hairbrush. She zipped it shut and looked up at me with a small, reassuring smile.
"Everything's going to be okay, Elena. Do everything he asks of you. Everything," She emphasized.
She carried the bag to the door, setting it outside my room.
"You should get some rest. Damon will be waiting for you bright and early tomorrow." Her lips curved up into a wide grin and she shut the door behind her.
I let out a horrid sob, clutching my stomach in agony. Tomorrow I would be a wife. The thought only made me sob harder. I would be expected to share the household duties with two woman I didn't know. I was expected to respect and honor a man I never knew prior to our wedding. I would be expected to carry his children and obey his every command. Nothing felt right about what I was about to do. Nothing.
I woke up to the sound of a crying child and I groaned. I peeled my eyes open enough to see my mother walking into my room with her hairbrush. That's when I realized that this nightmare was real. I really was going to be wedded today.
"We have to hurry if we want to be on time," She smiled, "I let you sleep in."
I felt my throat tighten, but I sat up obediently. My mother deserved to enjoy her last moments with her daughter. Visitations were more uncommon than common after marriage. I would see them at church, but that would never be enough time.
She brushed my hair, humming me a lullaby like I was back in my childhood crib. She placed little flowers from her garden in my hair as she braided, and I had to admit that I loved it. I allowed her to sing because I was her eldest daughter, now ready to be married off. It was hard for her and I could see it in her swollen eyes when she looked at me.
She smoothed out the wrinkles of my dress and then took my hand. She smiled briefly, looking deep into my eyes before pulling me downstairs. My entire family was gathered in a large group in front of the door, many of the children sobbing and screaming about hunger. It was an early morning for them. My father's eyes pierced me and forced a smile to make him happy.
We walked at a prompt pace to the church down the street, where most of the community had gathered to witness the marriage. Our family had attended almost every wedding since I can remember. I never really paid attention to them, but now I wish that I had. What was I supposed to say or do? I began to panic.
My mother led me to the Prophet's office where I would wait until one of the ladies of the church gave me the cue. I paced the room for a good ten minutes, my heart racing. A woman with blonde hair walked in with a smile and gestured toward the aisle outside the door. I felt my legs tense. I was about to meet the man I would spend the rest of my life with, whether I liked him or not.
I began to make my way down the aisle, everyone's eyes on me. I was trying to hold it together, but I was shaking so badly that I thought for a second or two I was going to trip. I pulled my eyes up from the floor and I saw him. His raven-black hair, his captivatingly blue eyes, his crooked smile. He watched me so intently as I walked and I could feel my knees go weak.
The aisle was a long one as the church could hold up to 4,000 occupants. I just wanted to get up there, so I wouldn't have to be expected to walk anymore. Soon enough, I was just a few yards from the man and I felt my breathing hitch. He reached his hand out when I was just a foot away and I accepted it with relief. I was so tense, my body quivering. I felt his piercing blue orbs looking at me, but I kept my head bowed to avoid him. Unexpectedly, I began to cry.
The tears raced down my cheeks and I attempted to stifle a sob. It slipped and once they started, I couldn't stop. I was violently shaking and choking back tears. My sobs became long animalistic whines when Mr. Barlow began to speak. Damon squeezed my hands lightly as if to tell me to stop, but I didn't care anymore. It was like a vivid nightmare that I could not escape.
"We are gathered here today before our Lord to witness the joining of this man and this woman in holy matrimony." The congregation could barely hear him over my cries.
The rest of the ceremony was mostly a blank to me. I remember stuttering the words 'I do' in a mumble between muffled sobs. I also recall my family's horrified faces as I disgraced them in front of the entire community. My father's look of disgust was ingrained in my mind most of all. He was just waiting for the wedding to be over, so that he could explain to the Elders that I was crying out of pure happiness. I knew I had let them all down, but my heart could not hold in its true feelings. I did not love this man.
My thoughts were soon interrupted by my husband's face leaning down to kiss me. I did not protest it. It was a light peck on my lips and I was truly grateful for that. The first that crossed my mind, however, was not the fact that I had embarrassed my family and myself in front of the entire church, but that I was now Damon's property. He owned me.