Alice's POV

Fishers is that podunk town that you think of when you think of a riquity town in the Bible Belt. Unfortunately, that is where I was forced to spend 6574 days of my life until I could finally break out of that prison. From infancy, I was forced to attend an evangelical church in the middle of our town square for 3 days a week. I remember crying a lot at Bible study from the horrific stories they would tell us to keep us women in line. Now, I know that I was programmed with a bullshit meter, but my parents were not too fond of my questioning. My mom would hit me with her paddle until I stopped questioning their beliefs and they would go out of their way to make sure I would be a perfect housewife who bent to the will of my future husband. God I wanted to puke at the idea, but I learned quickly to shut up so I didn't have to endure more beatings. My dad on the other hand was an over-tired religious man who just went to his study every evening to avoid any more conflict for the day. My mom suggested when I was a child to home-school me, and I heavily protested when she tried making her cave into allowing me to go to the public school district in our area. 

As I grew up I learned that keeping my lips sealed was my most important line of survival. I still shiver remembering the day I brought home Pokemon cards, and she decided to burn them in front of me saying they were the work of Satan. With the chared card, and tears streaming down my face she quickly pressed the burning card into my hand. It hurt like hell and gave me a scar I have until this day. She tried to explain the punishment by comparing it to the hellfire I would face if I didn't follow God's word. My older brother was the only person who loved me in that hell hole. When I was burned he put an ice pack on my hand and comforted me when I was crying. From that day on my brother and I was each other's only true family, and we would confide in each other with our emotions. In the fifth grade, I got interested in playing soccer on the playground, and I would put my all into the sport. Some of the parents in the community commented on how I should run for the team in middle school because of my potential and interest. Do you think my mom would let me do what I was passionate about? Hell no, when she caught wind of me playing the sport she shut me down by complaining to the school board banning me from all sports. She didn't think it was becoming of a woman to play men's sports, and I felt immense anger and sadness towards my mother. With her helicopter tendencies, it grew difficult to develop friendships within the school.

When I turned twelve girls in my grade started gushing about the guys in our class. There was not an ounce of that feeling in my body, and instead, I started developing crushes and interest in girls in my grade. Fear sunk into my heart because since I was an infant I was taught that being homosexual is the gravest crime of them all. I know what my mom would do over trivial things in my life, so I could not imagine what she would do if she had any indication of my sexuality. From that day on I did my best to blend into the role my mom wanted of me, so I could survive until adulthood. I learned how to sew despite hating the craft, and stopped visually gagging at Bible study. Unknownst to my mother I used my fury to become the best student within the school district. My parents tried to push the idea that I should stay a little dumb for my future husband, but I ignored their influence and worked harder toward my goal. In the seventh grade, I was already in high school math, and I offered tutoring to students at the school for math. I hid it from my parents by claiming I was hanging out with my friends after school doing girly shit. Each session would get me around fifty bucks, and I started stashing it in the children's Bible to hide it from my parents. I don't know how they would react to me having a part-time job, but even if they would accept it they would make me tithe 10% of all of my earnings. There was no way I was going to give an ounce of my earnings to the church that had caused me to suffer. If I had any chance of escaping, I needed every penny possible to be able to afford college. By the time middle school was over I had managed to stash over 3000 dollars from tutoring alone. 

When I reached high school I continued my tutoring services, and I entered as many honors and AP classes as possible. My grades were outstanding, and I was on track to be valedictorian of my high school. My parents again voiced their concern, and they didn't want a woman to take the most academic prowess in the local high school. My soul was crushed when they didn't support their kid in trying their best and excelling in high school. Even if they didn't like my achievements they couldn't do anything to deter me from trying even harder. Sophomore year was a lifesaver for me because I found the one teacher who would look out for my academics. Her name was Mrs. Davis, the mom that I had always wanted. She went out of her way to teach me life skills like taxes, interviews, strong writing, and argumentative skills, scholarships, and so much more. She even offered me a part-time job at her family's local coffee shop with transportation back and forth. She also paid for a phone plan for me, so I would be able to contact her if I wasn't able to work, or if I needed her for anything. Finally, I had someone else in my life who cared about my well-being and sanity. My high school years were filled with work every waking hour, but I was climbing closer to my goal of escaping Fishers. 

When I returned home one random day in the winter I heard a screaming match in the kitchen. I slowly turned the corner to see my mom standing with her arms crossed scowling at my big brother Nathan. My brother had a large bruise on his eye, but the fire in them still refused to die. Mom was berating him for finding out that he was making out with a boy under the bleachers at football practice. It would not be hard to guess that the bruise was from our mother. Slurs filled the room as Nathan held back tears. I couldn't take it anymore when I saw her about to strike again. Like an idiot, I decided to jump in front of him because he was one of the few people I cared about in this world. Little did I know mom had a pocket knife in her hand, and I felt a cool pool of blood drip from my shoulder as she stabbed the blade into my shoulder. My mother acted like nothing happened, and pretended the stabbing was a horrible accident. That fire that was in my brother's eyes grew as he saw me slowly fall to the floor in pain. Instead of attacking our mother, he helped me up and slowly guided me to his car. 

"If I find out the doctor is told the true reason why she is injured, you are kicked out of the house for good Nathan. We will talk about your grievances when you've returned," My mom scowled walking off to the living room knowing I heard her as well. I couldn't remember much after that as the world grew fuzzy from my blood loss. All I could remember was seeing my brother shaken by the choices he had laid out in front of him. With what little energy I had left I told him to stay silent. I didn't want him to suffer more for my stupidity. I was stuck in the hospital for 2 days and my brother seemed extra protective of me. He refused to watch me suffer for his safety, so he decided to let the doctor know the true reason why I was injured when I was knocked out. The doctor unfortunately refused to believe him because of our Dad's influence in the church of our small town, and we had to head home knowing our mom would find out eventually. It was not until we were heading home that my brother told me it was a miracle that I lived with tears evident. My mom managed to hit a major artery which was why I was knocked out from blood loss. The vein magically healed, and the doctors could not explain why the artery healed so fast. The cut was still evident on my arm with tape to keep it closed. When we arrived home we were relieved to see that no one was home since it was a massive church event. My brother in a rushed notion started to gather all of his belongings and pack them into his car. With my injury, I tried my best to help him, but it was still incredibly painful to move. We gave each other one last big hug as he rushed away from home. 

Tears clouded my vision as he left, but I realized I only had two more years in this hell hole. I checked my phone in my pocket to notice a bunch of missed calls from Mrs. Davis. Oh no, I had work this weekend. She is probably going to be mad at me. I noticed a note on the top of my dresser written by Mrs. Davis. It said your mother told me about the accident, and I got someone to cover your shifts. I hope you start feeling better and call me when your parents aren't around. For some reason, the mail was not opened by my parents beforehand. I decided to call her up knowing my parents wouldn't be back for a total of two hours. When I heard her voice, it took everything in me to not scream about what happened. 

"Hello Alice, are you doing okay?" she asked with an evident trace of concern in her voice.

"I am sorry about missing work Mrs. Davis. For what happened, my mom and brother got into an argument because my mom figured out he was gay.  As she went to hit him, I jumped in front to protect him. Unknownst to me she was holding a pocket knife. The blade went into my arm instead, and I was hospitalized. She threatened us for trying to tell the truth, and from what I can tell she lied to you too. I am so scared Mrs. Davis," I explained not taking a second to catch my breath. You could hear my teacher fuming on the line, and I wanted to believe that her standing up and saying something would help me escape earlier. 

"Alice, you don't need to worry about that. You should try and get some rest, how about you have your brother drop you off at my home. I have a spare bedroom, and you can get rest knowing you are safe," Mrs. Davis offered in concern.

"My brother is gone. He escaped a few minutes ago because our mom might go for the kill if he shows his face again. When he tried to tell the doctors about what truly happened the

y brushed him off because the compassionate church woman wouldn't stab her kin. I just need to get through two more years of this then I am free. I don't believe my mom will attack me again because it would kill her little reputation in the town. Plus with her power, I am scared that she will report you for kidnapping. I can't bear to lose the last person I consider family," I explained holding back tears.

"I understand Alice, but I am concerned about you. Please spend as much time in the classroom and coffee shop as you can. I will play dumb for your protection, but if she as much as lays another finger on you let me know. It kills me to see you stand by and watch you suffer from your parents," she replied with a caring energy in her voice. When my parents got home I was barely conscious, but I could hear them sighing in relief that their son had taken off, so they no longer had the burden of being associated with a gay son. When I eventually returned to school I worked twice as hard to get my hands on any money or scholarship opportunity possible. Mrs. Davis even set me up for college visits disguising them as church group camps. She also helped me get a bank account to store the cash I have been saving over the years. I was genuinely impressed with myself when I learned I had managed to save over $16,000 up until now. There is no way my parents could know about this, but over the years I have been pretty decent at hiding secrets.  My brother would try his best to visit me at the coffee shop I was working at, and he would stay after to make sure I was hanging in there. Thankfully my brother was smart with saving as well, and he was able to find short-term housing for the rest of high school. His football prowess landed him a full-ride scholarship out of state, and he would finally be free from Fishers. 

When I was in my junior year it was time to take the SAT, and my parents wanted to try and ensure I wouldn't make it to college. They tried to enforce a no-studying policy for the test, so I had to find other means of studying within the school to pretend like I was listening to them. I even got as creative as pasting study pages into an old bible in the house. When my parents thought their baby girl was reading the bible, they smiled and walked away. I averaged 1410 on the spats, and I went into the day with a high amount of hope. The day of the test finally rolled around and my parents were acting funny. My mom felt my head in a fake caring way and claimed my forehead felt warm, and that I should not go to school today. I ignored them and carried on to school. I knew I would pay for it later, but there was no way I was going to allow them to block me from taking the test that would determine my future.