straightened my small frame and clenched my fists at my side while whispering, “Please, Lord, help me. Please, Lord.”
“Excuse me?” Mamma asked sarcastically.
“No, I will not do it,” I said emphatically. “I am a grown woman, and you have no right to tell me what to do or to beat me.” I took a deep breath to keep my voice from shaking. “That much I know about the law. And if I go to the police station right now, they’re going to haul you both off to jail where you belong.” I stamped my foot for good measure and for a split second enjoyed the looks of shock on their faces.
“You are going to do none of those things,” Brian barked at me. “And you know why? Because we did not give you permission, that’s why.”
“No,” I shook my head. “I don’t need your permission. I am an adult now, and I will do what I think is right.”
“Bend over and touch your toes—NOW!” Brian growled, pushing me.
“No,” I protested.
“NOW!” he repeated
“NO!” I shouted back.
“I said touch your toes, da**it.” He grabbed me and tried to make me bend over.
I pushed back at him, yelling, “NO! And you can’t make me.”
Suddenly, Brian snapped and he began twisting my head as if trying to snap my neck. I felt the pressure growing in my head, and I thought I was going to die. “No,” I cried inwardly, just as I was on the verge of blacking out. “This is not how it was supposed to end.” As if in slow motion, I felt my neck twisting further and further, and I was waiting, wondering if I would be able to hear the crunching sound or if I would die first. I was unable to move, although I was resisting as much as possible with my neck. I figured if Brian was going to kill me, I would make it as hard as possible for him.
Suddenly, I heard Samantha scream, “You are killing her, NO! NO!” Her voice came to me as if through a tunnel.
I heard Mamma’s voice, “Samantha, don’t; leave him alone. She deserves it.”
But Samantha ran at Brian and jumped on his back, wrapping her arms around his throat and trying to choke him. The sheer force of her weight threw him off balance enough that he lost his grip on my neck seconds before everything went black. As I fell to the floor, Brian threw Samantha across the room and over the table, where there were some canning jars. I heard Samantha hit the floor with a tinkling of broken glass. Brian ran over to her angrily calling her a “meddling little bi*ch.”
Mamma stood calmly watching us being beaten. Samantha’s screams were ear-shattering. I struggled to my feet, dizzy. I could not believe I was still alive.
In a sudden panic, terrified of what Brian might do to her, I tried to divert Brian’s attention away from Samantha by racing up the stairs and yelling down, “I am leaving now. I am going to the police, and they are going to enjoy all the evidence you guys are leaving for them.”
I knew I had trapped myself upstairs, but I did not know how else to get them off of Samantha. Her screams suddenly stopped and I heard running. The whole house seemed to shake as Mamma and Brian both ran up the stairs. I looked around frantically for a way to escape, but of course there was none, so I jumped up on my bed and backed into the corner, hoping that I was out of their reach. I balled myself up, putting my head between my legs in an attempt to protect myself, to no avail. Brian grabbed me by the feet and pulled me to the edge of the bed. I kicked at him, catching him in the forehead; it stunned him for half a second and I took advantage of the situation and scrambled back into my corner. He reached for me again and this time managed to yank me off the bed. Brian shoved me into the wall, and I saw Mamma standing there again with her arms folded. “Mamma,” I screamed. “Help me get this j**k off of me.”
“Why should I protect you when you want to betray us?” Mamma shot back.
“I am your daughter,” I shouted as I fell to the floor, trying to shield myself from Brian’s open-handed slaps.
Suddenly I saw a way to escape. I quickly rolled onto my stomach and slithered my small frame past Mamma’s and Brian’s legs and made a dash for the stairs. I flew down the stairs. Mamma tried to grab me, but I slipped past her. When I got to the bottom, I heard Samantha yelling for me to run. I raced out the door and down the drive.
I heard Mamma yell at Brian to get the truck, but I just kept running as fast as I could. I was scared, and I did not know if there was a rifle pointed at my back or not.
I did not get far when I heard the truck barreling down the road. I did not know how I was going to get past them to get into town; it was six and a half miles to the pavement in the back of the orchards, and another mile to the tiny police station. How was I going to get into town without them spotting me and taking me back? As the truck came up behind me, I dove off the road and into the sagebrush and continued walking toward town. I heard Brian’s voice floating to me on the spring air.
“Get in the truck right now.”
I did not answer and just kept walking.
“Misty, get your a*s up here and get in the truck before I come down there and make you!”
I kept struggling through the brush and shouting back defiantly. But after a while I began losing my drive to try to get into town. My head was pounding so badly I could not think. I felt nauseous and could not go another step. I decided I would go back with them and try to make a run for it in the night or some other time when I could get a head start.
I climbed up the embankment and into the truck. Although I am sure it is hard for you, the reader, to believe any girl would return to these people, you must understand that I was not a normal girl. I was clothed from head to foot in plain clothing; I did not have any knowledge or experience with carrying on a conversation with outside people; I did not understand anything, except our daily life on the mountain. And I needed to get back to check on Samantha.
When we returned, Samantha seemed disappointed that I had come back with them. Brian told everyone to get in the house.
“You know he was for real trying to kill you, right? He was just about ready to snap your neck when I jumped him,” Samantha whispered.
“Yeah, thanks for that, Sam.” I rubbed my now swollen neck.
I scanned Samantha from head to toe. My heart sank as I saw a dark bruise on her cheekbone and the many tiny cuts on her arms from where she had fallen on the glass. I felt so sick from the headache, I could not think clearly. I kept blinking my eyes, trying to clear my head—this was not the time to have a foggy brain, I told myself. But my thoughts didn’t help, and with every step the pain got worse.
“All right, sit down,” Brian ordered as we walked through the door.
Mamma was standing there, arms crossed again, with a frown on her face. I looked her directly in the eyes, and she looked back at me for a moment, and then looked away, her frown getting deeper, if that were possible.
“All right,” Brian said again. “I knew this day was coming, so I have been writing to the Bishop. A few weeks ago, he sent me the address of one of their Amish communities in Minnesota, which is closer to us than Pennsylvania would be. He knows the bishop there and the community would be willing to take you girls in so you can join the church. They are in desperate need of new bloodlines, so you would be an asset to them,” Brian stated as if we were livestock.
Samantha and I looked at each other in shock. This was the first we had heard of this. Mamma snorted in contempt and Brian stared at us as if we were bad little girls whom he was shipping off to boarding school.
The news was amazing to us; we could not believe we were actually going to get out of this horrible place. Even more shocking was the fact that Brian was thinking of letting us go. I often wondered why Brian agreed to give us, their two slaves, to the Amish community.
The only explanation I could come up with at that time was that they were really afraid that