I sat down on the bed beside him, feeling his mood seep into me. His depression leeched away any good feeling I had.
David was getting worse. Not better.
Part of me had hoped, in some unrealistic way that perhaps his brand new fanaticism would pull him out of this horrible place he had been living in since being discharged from the army. That maybe the cult, at least, would take the place of the noise inside his head.
At first, David appeared to fit into this life. He built stuff. He ate their bland food. He spent time with other Gathering members. Yeah, he prayed a lot, but I was willing to overlook that if it meant he was feeling better.
But over time, any progress eroded away until he was left worse than he ever was before.
In fact, The Retreat seemed to feed the darkness inside him.
Almost as if the people here, particularly the so-called Pastor, wanted him as close to the edge as possible.
“What can I do, David? Tell me, what can I do?” I felt hopeless. I covered my face with my hands and tried not to sob like a child. I had been taking care of him for months. But this was harder than that. This was watching someone you love die from the inside out. I didn’t know how to stop it. I didn’t know how to help him.
All I knew was I had to get him out of there.
But it was becoming harder and harder to find a way.
A soft knock at the door startled me. It had been so quiet, too quiet, all day. I couldn’t get used to it. The endless silence. I missed the noise of the city. The chaos ofliving.
I didn’t understand how these people could think this was being alive.
David didn’t move, so I got up and opened the door, not entirely surprised to find Anne Landes on the other side.
“Hey, Anne,” I said tiredly, opening the door and letting her in.
Anne and my brother had been spending time together. At first it had bothered me. I had thought the last thing David needed was to get his emotions tangled up with some cultish nut job. I watched them closely, prepared to jump in when needed. Then I started to notice something that gave me hope. When they were together, he actually smiled. Seemed like his old self. She somehow brought that side out of him again.
And for that alone I liked her.
I looked behind the small girl for the other one that went everywhere with her. But Anne was alone.
I tried not to be disheartened. But I was. Immensely so. I looked forward to seeing Sara. It was the highlight of my days. My nights too.
Anne raised her eyebrows and gave me a smile. “She’s at Daily Devotional already.”
I had always broadcast my emotions for all to see—never bothering to hide them. David used to joke that I should never attempt to play poker because I’d lose everything.
I smiled sheepishly at once again being entirely too obvious. But I didn’t want to hide what I felt for Sara. It felt wrong to try. Even if the people around me spent their every waking moment suppressing any and all feeling.
Anne glanced at David in the bed. He had opened his eyes when she walked in, but still hadn’t moved. Tears dripped off his nose, leaving a wet spot on his pillow.
“Has he been like this all day?” she asked sadly.
“Yeah. He’s not doing so well.”
“What can I do?” She started to chew on her bottom lip. An anxious gesture that made her seem much younger than eighteen. I looked down at Anne. She was tiny, only coming up to my chin. David, who was much taller than me, towered over her, making them an odd couple. But she had a sweetness about her that was endearing. It was a strength others would overlook. See it more as a weakness. That’s because they didn’t understand that holding onto kindness when you were denied true affection was harder than almost anything.
Anne had gravitated towards David instantly. Seemed to take it upon herself to look after him.
And David opened up to her. He shared pieces of himself that I think he even forgot about. Yesterday he had laughed about his Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle pajamas. I had learned to appreciate small miracles where my brother was concerned.
But she also knew how bad things were for him. I hadn’t told her much about his past, or why he had sought out The Gathering. But she knew—as they all did—that he was a broken man.
I refused to believe he was beyond repair.
And so did Anne.
