No More

It was a normal day, like any other day. Then came the call. Looking at the phone in my hand and seeing the number, choral music from long ago began pulsating in my brain. The powers that be decided today would be the day. I felt the room spin a bit; the beginnings of black edges came into my peripheral vision. Resolved not to remain broken, I answered the call. The church leader’s cracked voice told me the trial would begin in a few days, with me being the star witness. I hung up the call, shaking.

Retribution at last.

**While this writing originated in my brain, it speaks to the eons of sexual abuse endured by children of all ethnicities in churches of all denominations and in the many varieties of cults across the planet.

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