Cult

“Diana, do you think she is ready for this? I mean, she’s still so young.” I heard Dad say to Mom one night in their bedroom as I listened intently through a crack in their French doors.

“My parents told me when I was seventeen, and I turned out fine. Angelita will freak out at first, but after a while, she’ll start to understand.” Mom stated calmly.

My mind raced with what this big secret could be.

Like all great mysteries, this one starts with a strange family tradition passed down for centuries. Why would you agree to do this, Angelita? You may ask. Well, let’s just say it required a lot of convincing. And of course, the threat of being kicked out of the house at seventeen. So I decided it can’t be that bad, right?

My family, the Crescarnos, are ordinary upper-class Americans by day. We go on fancy vacations, play tennis at our country club, and attend upscale events at the Holiday Inn regularly. However, by night we become a vengeful cult ready to kill anyone who goes against the grain, including one of our own.

The night my parents told me, I almost thought they were joking. Everything about my life was so normal before then. I never saw the darkness that poked through their plastered on smiles and busy lives. Now I knew every time Mom and Dad went away, they were attending a meeting.

“Angelita, dinner’s ready,” Mom called from the kitchen. “Alright, I’m coming,” I shouted from my room as I put down the novel I was reading.

When I got downstairs, there was an uncomfortable silence in the air. I ignored it, thinking it was just in my head and started eating. I sat across from my little brother Teddy, who had just lost his front teeth. Now every time he talks, he has a subtle lisp, especially when he says his S’s. 

Teddy loves to talk, so our dinner mostly consisted of him rambling on about his new friend Sara he met at school. She’s missing her two front teeth too, so that’s why they became friends. 

 “Teddy, when you get done with your food, how about you take your plates to the sink and go upstairs. We have to talk to Angelita about something important.” As Teddy went upstairs to his bedroom, Mom shifted uncomfortably in her chair.

“Angelita, as you know, our family has a long history. Dating back even to the Middle Ages. Even back then, we were always affluent and tight-knit.” She paused and cleared her throat. The silence in the room was deafening. “But there are a couple of important things you don’t know about us. It’s always a tradition to keep these things secret until you get older because some of them are hard to hear. First of all, our bloodline is pure. That means there is no outside breeding. Your father and I are both Crescarnos, second cousins. But we didn’t meet each other until we got old enough to get married.”

I sat in awe. My brain was going a hundred miles a minute with countless questions, but I couldn’t seem to form words. “Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?” That was all I could muster up the brainpower to say. “It’s not culturally appropriate around here anymore. We didn’t want to confuse you.” Dad said. 

“It’s not like we grew up together, Angelita. It was similar to an arranged marriage.” Mom chimed in. 

I tried to picture Mom and Dad having an arranged marriage. Mom in a wedding dress, seeing her husband for the first time at the altar. The thought mortified me. 

“You know, We were around your age when we got married. It was the summer after I graduated high school.” Dad commented and then went on to say, “Pretty soon, you’ll do it too. To keep the bloodline pure, of course.” He looked at his hands uncomfortably.

“What? Don’t I get a choice in this?” I asked. “You can’t expect me to marry my cousin! That’s like illegal, isn’t it?” 

“Not if you do it for religious reasons.” Mom stated.

“But we aren’t religious, Mom.” 

“I know, but you can write anything on a piece of paper. And now you don’t have to go through the trials and mistakes of dating. You will have someone perfectly designed for you that cares about you and wants a life together.” Mom continued.

“You already have someone picked out for me?” I snapped.

“Angelita, we have had this arrangement planned since you were five years old. I know this is a lot to process in one night. We can talk more in the morning if you want. Remember, this is a good thing.” Mom reassured me.

On the verge of tears, I calmly got up from the dining room table and walked to my bedroom, not letting them see me crack. As I left, I heard Dad whisper, “That could have gone better.” to Mom. I cried until I fell asleep. 

When I woke up the next morning, I didn’t want to go downstairs and face my parents. I feared that if I saw them, I would get the sudden urge to go AWOL and break all the plates in the china cabinet out of spite.

At around 3:00, mom cracked open my bedroom door and asked when I was coming downstairs. I cattily told her, “Never.” She then proceeded to say okay and close my door. 

I felt so alone that day, and I couldn’t tell anyone. Even if I did, no one would believe me, let alone understand what I’m going through. It’s not like their parents have been planning to marry them off to their cousin since they were five years old.

On the second day of my bedroom quarantine, I decided to end it because I was starting to get hungry and bored.

I hoped Mom and Dad wouldn’t be there when I went downstairs because I didn’t want to see them. But of course, they were in the kitchen talking about the latest on the news. Yay me. 

“Hi Honey, How are you feeling?” Dad asked. At first, I debated on not talking to them, but I finally said, “Honestly, I’m furious at you guys. Who keeps an arranged marriage secret for this long?” I shared.

“We wanted to tell you sooner, but we kept putting it off because we didn’t want you to be mad at us. We went through the same thing, and I remember hating my folks at first. But it’s just customary for our family. It’s always been this way, Angelita. We can’t change it.” Mom said.

“What if I don’t want this? What happens?” I asked. Mom paused and staring intently at the dishes in the sink, whispered, “Then you have to leave, that’s how it’s always been. You can’t be a part of our family if you don’t follow the rules, Angelita. Same for Teddy.” 

I never thought about Teddy. The idea that my sweet brother would have to go through this too mad me sick. 

“So it’s get married at eighteen to my cousin or live on the streets?” I shouted.

 “Calm down, Angie. Your brother might hear.” Mom said, trying to calm me down. “I hope Teddy hears me! Maybe he can escape you psych ward patients before it’s too late!” Dad wanted to reprimand me, but I was out the front door before he could get a word in. 

I don’t remember everything that happened after the fight, but I got in my car and drove down the highway. I charged a hotel room on my parent’s credit card when it got dark, and they didn’t even bother to call. Three days later, after I blew off steam, I came back home and demanded answers.

After our awkward reunion, I sat Mom and Dad down and started asking questions. Questions like, “Why do we do this?” and “Who is this mystery guy I’m supposed to marry?”

Eventually, Mom just decided it would be easier to show me the family book filled with our history.

“Read this, and if you have any questions after, come talk to us. This book will explain our family so much better than I ever will be able to.”

I listened to Mom and took the book up to my bedroom to read. The book was humongous! It probably weighed five pounds and had thousands of pages. “This will take me an eternity to read.” I thought to myself.

After three days of consistent reading, I finally got all the answers I needed. Mom and Dad just hit the tip of the iceberg with information about our family.

As it turns out, the Crescarnos originated in Italy around 1100 A.D. The first Crescarnos were knights for the royal guard specially trained to protect the Catholic Pope against assassins. As they started having kids and their kids had kids, the Crescarnos lived all around the globe from Dubai to London to Los Angeles. Each was staying in contact and following the family rules. Located in each city, the Crescarnos number between 10 and 30. Each town has secret family meetings twice a month. Almost like a family reunion, but much creepier. They talk about a range of things, from politics to family gossip. No one knows about these meetings except family members. If you snitch about the content of the sessions to anyone, you will endure severe punishment. I didn’t know what the sentence was, but I assumed it wasn’t pleasant. As I kept reading, I found that the kids were kept in the dark about everything. It said not to tell your kids anything until they are “of age,” which I assume is right before you force them into an arranged marriage.

After your parents tell you about the family secret, you are required to start attending the gatherings. And of course, meet your whole extended family. (Including your future husband). The book went into more detail about the meetings, but I decided to skim through that section.

At this thought, I wanted to leave all this craziness and find a new family. Maybe one without all these weird rules and traditions. 

When I brought the book back down to Mom, she asked, “So what do you think? Have any questions?”

“Not really, the book was very specific,” I replied. “After much consideration, I decided that I’ll go to the meeting with you. But I’m not deciding anything else until then.”

“Sounds reasonable enough. The next meeting is Friday. You can come with Dad and me, and we’ll hire a sitter for Teddy.” Mom said with a big smile. Then she walked out of the room to tell Dad the big news.

When Friday finally came around, I felt so excited and nervous. I hoped I was making the right decision by going to this meeting. Mom said to dress fancy, so I wore my velvet emerald wrap dress. To complement the dress, I put on my silver necklace with the emerald stone and my favorite pair of silver hoop earrings. I put my hair in an elegant bun at the nape of my neck.

I walked downstairs, and Mom and Dad were waiting for me in the living room with cordial expressions painted on their beautiful faces. “You ready?” Asked Dad.

When we pulled into the parking lot of the hotel, a wave of nausea appeared in my stomach. As we walked to the building, it only got worse. 

Suddenly, we were at the door of the Hall, where the meeting was being held. I took a deep breath, and Dad opened the big white gates. The Hall was big, with about ten tables and a big stage that lined the other side of the room. I felt like I walked into a parallel universe with a bunch of aliens that looked like different versions of me. The idea gave me chills.

There were probably sixty people here, and many of them were staring directly at me. My cheeks flooded red as we walked to our table.

We shared a table with another family, who consisted of a mom, dad, and son. The son looked to be my age. I felt like my head was going to explode. This boy was him.

Dad started an idle conversation with them by talking about the weather. “Such a Dad move…” I thought to myself. 

I think the boy knew who I was because he had a surprised look on his face like he saw a ghost.

I know that Mom and Dad have known the parents for a while because they talk like old friends. After a couple of minutes, they introduce me. “This is our daughter Angelita,” Mom says. 

“Nice to meet you, Angelita. You are beautiful.” The lady said warmly. I said thank you and smiled awkwardly.

“This is Timothy.” The man said. Timothy was shy, so he smiled but couldn’t meet my eyes. The parents continued talking, but Timothy and I just stayed quiet. I mean, what do you say in these circumstances?

There wasn’t a meeting tonight; I found out. It was merely just a social gathering today. I was kind of disappointed because the reason I came was to find out what this “cult” was all about. No one called it a cult, but we all knew what it was.

After the meal, I quietly excused myself from the table and went to the bathroom. I needed to get away from here, even if it was just for a second. 

When I came out of the bathroom, I was surprised to see Timothy waiting for me. 

“Hi, Sorry if I was weird out there. I just wanted to come and introduce myself for real this time. You might be the only one who understands what I’m going through around here.” Timothy confided to me. 

“I get that. Honestly, I’m so lost right now I feel like running away and never coming back. I get a bad feeling about our family. Like they are hiding something. Well, more things.”

He nodded and said, “I think so too, and there’s nothing we can do because we’ll get disowned if we don’t follow the rules.”

After tonight, I knew the right thing was to leave. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but something felt wrong.

“Yeah,” was all I could say. 

Timothy was cute. He was tall and skinny with blonde curly hair. But I couldn’t see myself falling in love with him. He’s my cousin, and I can’t get past that.

That night, after we got home from the freak show, I started planning my escape. I wrote out a letter to my parents explaining I could never live in their world, but I would always love them.

I kept going to the meetings, acting like everything was normal. I even talked to Timothy so they wouldn’t suspect anything.

I had some money saved up from my job and used that to buy a small studio apartment in a place my parents would never find me. Over the next two months, I secretly found a job and a group of people I could count on to help me out if I ever got in trouble. Everything fell into place.

That was the last time I saw my family. I kissed Teddy goodnight and put a letter by his nightstand, telling him that I wished him the best. 

I climbed out of my bedroom window and drove away for the last time. Tears flooded my eyes the farther I got away from my home. I didn’t know what the future would hold for me; all I knew was it was a future decided by me. 

Fast forward to a month later. I was flicking through the news on my phone when I saw an article titled “Homicide of a Young Man.” I don’t know how, but I had a feeling that the material was about Timothy. I clicked on the link and gasped in horror. There was a picture of Timothy beside the text. “I was right.” I debated on whether to throw up or keep reading. I decided on the latter.

The article said that Timothy had gone missing from his home a month after I left. Three days after his disappearance, they found Timothy’s body in the woods with a gunshot wound to the head. Police don’t know who shot him. 

I shuddered. “I know who did.”