Chapter 19 - The Mercy Cage

The nineteenth chapter of our thriller novel, in which Anne faces a punishment that could kill her - will it?

Anne- New York City, 1900

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Prologue // Chapter 1 // Chapter 2 // Chapter 3 // Chapter 4 // Chapter 5 // Chapter 6 // Chapter 7 // Chapter 8 // Chapter 9 // Chapter 10 // Chapter 11 / Chapter 12 // Chapter 13// Chapter 14 // Chapter 15 // Chapter 16 // Chapter 17 // Chapter 18

        As I prepare to embrace what will be my final moments on this Earth, my thoughts turn to Andrew, Florence, Rose, my mum – the moment I am about to black out, I burst from the water, choking and gasping in every particle of air before a Sister thrusts my head back down into the tub. I will not die without a fight, but the more I fight, the more air I waste. The Sisters have me in a chokehold. What started as a Sister holding me down has now turned into a gaggle of nuns pressing me to the fate of my death in this bathtub. And for what? My journal? Because of some arbitrary rule that I am not allowed to have any solace- though its pages were sometimes used to write down the word of the Lord? Who are they to dictate how I worship. I growl and lose another sputter of precious air beneath the surface.

        I hope that Harriet sees the deepest layer of hell upon her death. She has the heart of a serpent, full of deceit with no care, no regard for others. God will never find forgiveness for her evil, and I would have killed her if I could. We never see girls again once a Sister has dragged them away. Whether they are dead or alive in solitary, we will never know. Was the girl from today subject to this drowning torture? The poor girl in the laundry? My thoughts swirl as my head plunges beneath the surface again and I close my eyes to keep them burning from the soap. My eyelids block the warped reflections of the Sisters staring into my eternity from above. 

      Sister Agatha is particularly cruel, her hand fixed to my head, as Sister Gertrude and Sister Margaret strangle shoulders and arms with their corpse-like fingers. Moments from black-out, they lift me again, only for Sister Agatha to yell, “How dare you speak like a serpent: lies and deceit. REPENT!” I cough and sputter. I refuse to repent. It  was not I being the serpent, spewing lies and deceit like Harriet. They’ve treated me like a whore since my arrest at the nightclub and subjecting me here. Do they even know their own Bible? David himself danced until all of his clothes fell off. Was he shamed by the Lord? “David danced before the Lord. I will not re-” but the words gurgle as Sister Agatha shoves my face down into the water. Fuck. I didn’t catch an inhale.