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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2149455-The-Young-Brides-Of-Christ
Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Horror/Scary · #2149455
Another pulp horror story. . .
The conversation had started over coffee. Mrs. Winkle had begun by sharing that just the other day she had caught her son, Daniel, looking at sinful pictures on the internet. "I was just mortified, but Gerry calmed me down. He said, 'At least we know our son isn't gay', which is a point, I guess."

The comment made Mrs. Garfield blush a little. "In a way, I'm worried about Joseph. I mean I never caught him looking at sinful things once, which I guess is a good thing, but he also doesn't date girls and at his age, that's a little unusual."

"Well," said Mrs. Donger, "perhaps I can help you with that."

Mrs. Donger was the oldest of the three women. Further, she was one of the wisest and and most respected women in the parish, so when she spoke everyone knew to listen. "Do you know," she said, "that the Young Brides of Christhave started a grooms program?"

"Young Brides of Christ?" said Mrs. Garfield, "Isn't that a Christian camp?"

"And a good one," said Mrs. Donger. "A little tough, but good. Let me put it this way: I went there."

* * *



It happened [said Mrs. Donger] the summer I was fourteen. My parents had noticed that I was not paying attention in church and listening to "bad music". Still, I think the thing that really scared them was how I was turning fourteen and still not showing any interest in dating boys. So they signed me up for camp.

I admit I wasn't too excited at first. In fact, my parents had to drop me off kicking and screaming and that was when I met my counselor, Ginny. Ginny was the most beautiful person I had ever seen with bright red hair that fell about her head in natural curls and a face that lit up whenever she smiled. I think I started liking camp as soon as I saw her.

It didn't happen all at once, though. I remember how at first I hated having to wear that bright yellow t-shirt with "YBOC" in capital letters. But after a while, I realized it made me feel cool because I was wearing exactly what everyone else wore and we were all a cool group. I also thought those songs about "Father Abraham having many sons" were kind of annoying, but once I gave them a chance I saw how much fun it was to sing along. By the end of the first week, I loved camp.

But one thing didn't change. I became aware of it during the second week. I was a little late for mandatory showers that day, so most of the girls were gone by the time I got there, but Ginny wasn't. She was standing naked under the spray. "Hi Teresa," she smiled at me. "Glad you made it."

I looked at Ginny for a while. Then, I said, "Ginny, can I ask you something?"

"Sure." She was always so confident.

"Do you think you'll ever have sex with a man?"

A flicker of doubt may have crossed her face, but she kept smiling and said. "Of course! I am a Christian woman, which makes it my duty to marry a Christian man and bear Christian children. But. . .why do you ask?"

I shrugged. "I'm not so sure I want to ever have sex with a man."

She smiled and gave me a wet hug. "You'll change your mind eventually. Maybe even soon, I promise." Then she gave me a kiss on the forehead."

I realize this story is making you uncomfortable, but I include it to let you know just how lost I thought I was that day and how much I've changed. Of course, the real change came at the end of the session. That's a little disturbing, but I assure you it was the best thing that ever happened to me.

At the end of the session, we had a huge bonfire. Ginny put on this strange costume, a sort of green, robe and announced, "The time has come for our confessions. We are all sinners, but who among us is the worst sinner?

I remember the first to speak was a girl named Priscilla who said, "I ate a candy bar in my bunk after lights out so maybe it's me."

That made a lot of us snicker, but Ginny remained serious. "Surely there is a worse sinner." She was looking straight at me. I knew that she expected me to be the confessor.

I stepped forward nervous and ashamed. "I-I-I think that I like women. I think that I'm a. . .lesbian." I choked out the last word and there were shocked gasps all around the campfire.

Ginny remained stoic. "Your sin is great, Teresa. Come here so we can pray for you."

I stepped closer and saw that she had a huge silver knife.

"If you cannot be a bride of Christ, you will be a bride of the other." Then, she stabbed me in the stomach.

And then it got really crazy. This horse came riding up, and on the horse there was this man with a long white beard. He grabbed me and started ripping my clothes off. And I think I felt him in my lady parts.

Later, Ginny gave me a hug and told me she was sorry that I had to go through that, but it was for my own good. It turned out that she had been sent to the camp as a girl and had been the sinful one at her bonfire. "For exactly the same sin," she admitted. "But I haven't loved a woman since then."

And she was right: I'm proud to say that I have only wanted to have sex with men ever since that night. I've been righteous ever since. So, I highly recommend The Brides of Christ.

Would you like to see a brochure?

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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2149455-The-Young-Brides-Of-Christ