To say I’m scared is a massive understatement.
See, when you’re in the cult, they know everything about you. Your family, your friends.
Gruff had a visit from the cult. Suited bastards, he called them.
Apparently, they are concerned for my safety. Worried about my mental well-being.
Why else would I have left the church unless due to severe mental handicap?
They want to help me. Only they can help me.
Suddenly, being here in the middle of nowhere sounds like a shit idea.
No one close to hear me scream.
Over reaction, you think? You’ve no idea. They always get people to go back.
I remember the stories. Not sure if were true. Maybe they spread them to keep the fear.
But there was a member who had escaped all the way to South Africa. They were found. They were brought back.
It can happen. I just hope not to me.
Thanks for reading another instalment of Almost Drank the Kool-Aid.
Poetry writers — something special is coming for you tomorrow. So if you’re looking to get your poems out to a wider audience, make sure you stay tuned!
Don’t forget – my ebook 45 Notes on London can be downloaded on your favourite eReader or by hitting the link here.