Chapter Text
For a long time, Natalie’s mind had been clouded - or haunted, rather - by one clear image, a loop replaying over and over, with the same actors, the same unmistakable sound, one singular gunshot, swift and devoid of reverb, ringing in her ears again and again, the blood spurting out all over the muddy grass laying under the rusty wheels of their trailer.
She remembers horrifically palpably how it felt to hold the gunshot in her own hands only minutes before it happened, before it landed in her father’s violent and wrinkled ones, before the bullet would pierce his chest and her mother would fall on her knees, mumbling a few cuss words towards Natalie between the violent sobs.
It would come every night, the same ensemble of screams, gunfire, blood, guilt, relief, fear. It all came together, preventing her from getting any sort of sleep, stopping only when she was too far gone in whatever substance she could acquire for the time being. She reached lows that she is too ashamed of even thinking about to numb that memory way. To make it stop, even if it never really stopped, it would just go quieter, further, until she would eventually manage to scramble some hours of sleep, in that same shitty trailer, over and over again.
She’s still haunted by a single clear memory before her sleep, just a different one. Instead of her father gushing out in the middle of the trailer park, there’s the sound of a knife meticulously cutting through her boyfriend’s throat, the muffled sound he was producing just a second before completely stopping.
But more than that, she’s haunted by the look on big brown doe eyes staring right through her, the light that sparkled as blood started spurting out, staining her chaste white dress and ending up all over the heavenly traits of her face. The way a winning grin tainted her soft crimson lips. Guilt and fear, replaced with what she can only describe as adoration. Anticipation, electricity running through her bones.
Every single night, she remembers the flavor of Lottie’s lips ever so gently grazing hers, still stained in Travis’ blood, the way her thumb would gracefully trace her jaw, one hand softly stroking her face while the other was still holding the knife. Natalie would never forget that moment for the rest of her life, she is quite certain of that.
September 1999, NY
The unfortunate conjunction of a dad dying in a tragic incident with gunfire involved and a residence certificate indicating a trailer park is apparently a killer combo for college scholarship applications.
Natalie wasn’t exactly too sure that choosing to major in English Literature with the ultimate goal of acquiring songwriting skills that would crown her as the next generation Patti Smith was the best available path for her, but all she wanted really was a one way ticket out of the trailer park and her dad’s ghost, and it’s not like she would have been so stupid to refuse Columbia.
So there she was, from Wiskayok to the big apple, trying to understand how her band tee shirts and burned bleached roots would fit in an array of pretentious rich kids who read Joyce for fun .
The first few days have been nothing less than a nightmare, trying to desperately find her place in a world so different from hers. And for Natalie, being lost and fueled with anxiety had only one possible answer, an answer that required a shit ton of weed and cheap alcohol to smash down while playing obnoxiously loud music in her ears. And that’s how she met Travis.
He was on a scholarship too, equally blessed with the perks of having a fucked up father, except his was apparently in prison. Natalie never really knew why or what exactly happened, he didn’t like to bring it up, and she never cared enough to ask him.
Travis was easy, he was the first person Nat asked for weed, and he offered her a free joint in exchange for a blowjob. She wasn’t that desperate, yet, and he responded with a laugh and an annoying smug on his face, still handing her the joint and offering some company.
They talked for a while, and by the time he asked for her number for “some more weed and company” she already knew she would have folded to him.
He was rude, and he had a talent for sneaking at least one misogynistic remark in every couple sentences. He was rough when he shoved his tongue in her mouth a couple days after they met, and by the time he broke the so-called kiss she was disgusted enough to accept he would have been the perfect choice to fuel her constant circle of self-loathing and punishment. Their shared daddy issues, feelings of self-deprecation and social alienation made them the perfect match in Nat’s eyes.
They had sex one week after she met him, in his dirty dorm room, and she thought it was less horrendous than some past experiences to compare it to. It was definitely less horrendous than Bobby Farleigh back in high school in the shitty bathrooms after some concert.
It’s not like she really enjoyed it of course, at the time she thought that maybe she just didn't like sex in general, but she liked how horrible and filthy it made her feel. It was twistedly fulfilling enough, rightfully adding to her never ending cycle of atoning for her perpetual guilt. It worked, he was a useful distraction, and she deluded herself into thinking it was love, just like she always does with every other guy.
After a couple of weeks, Natalie started falling into the illusion of something somewhat similar to a routine. She would attend classes, half asleep and half hungover, then meet Travis under the bleachers for lunch, which meant smoking and making out with him.
It started getting progressively less and less gross, or maybe she started getting progressively more and more high, but is there a difference?
Later in the evenings she would join Travis and his stoner friends to sneak into whatever party was taking place somewhere around campus, get wasted, sleep with Travis, get back to her dorm room at unspeakable hours and sleep.The more wasted she would get, the more sleep she would acquire. It was a fucked up routine, sure, but it was functional, it gave her a twisted sense of stability that she eagerly needed.
The illusion of stability however was soon disrupted, a little over two weeks after she first arrived.
In the middle of one of her getting high and feeling Travis trying to get into her pants sessions, the boy suddenly asked her if she was religious.
Natalie couldn’t help but give him a laugh in response, “Do I look religious to you?”
Travis smirked, “No, you really don’t” he lightly scratched his head before continuing the sentence.
“There’s this party on Saturday. It’s like.. I don’t know man, like a sorority thing, I guess? There are these girls that are like.. a cult maybe, or something like that. They’re usually super closed off, you always see them in this little group, far away from the rest of the world, carrying these stupid cross necklaces”.
Nat raised an eyebrow, trying to follow his line of thought, wondering where this was going.
“Well, anyway, at the beginning of each semester they have these huge parties where basically everyone is invited, I guess to kinda affirm their status or some bullshit like that” he continues while fiddling the still faintly lit joint in his hands.
“These parties Nat.. they’re insane. You have to come like, all dressed in white or whatever, and there’s this shit ton of freshly brewed cherry wine, and this ridiculously expensive alcohol and so, so much of the good, strong stuff, and at one point it’s.. like, it’s like you’re not even there anymore, like an outer body experience, almost spiritual I guess, you know what I mean?”.
Nat chuckled, “Well, sounds like a cool fucking party, right?” She took what remained of the joint from his hands and blew the last couple smokes, “I guess I can be religious for one night if it means getting so heavenly thrashed”.
After their conversation, the week proceeded rather uneventfully, with the sole exception of Nat now noticing the students chatting and whispering about this hedonistic, or whatever, party pretty much the whole time.
Apparently, it was kind of a big deal, from what she pieced together from all the perpetual gossiping. The sorority never held parties before last year, when all the previous members graduated and this new leader or whatever, Charlotte, they called her, had taken over and transformed the whole thing into her restricted web of devoted followers, the term cult being used by basically every student bringing up the topic.
Natalie admitted that she was starting to get a little intrigued to find out what the deal was, and she might have spent the afternoon preceding the party thrifting a white dress, an item that has never even remotely been part of her usual wardrobe.
When Saturday evening arrived at last, she and Travis showed up in front of the designated location for the party a little over half an hour after it was supposed to begin. “You look nice” Travis gave her a quick smile, alluding to her outfit.
“Am I chaste enough?” she replied with a grin, and his response came in the form of a smirk forming on his lips while not so subtly staring at her boobs.
She decided to play with the whole white dress code thing a little, a white corset lace dress highlighting her boobs, the dress short enough for her equally white see-through stockings to show off her thighs, and these excessively high white boots that she had brought with her all the way from the marvelous Wiskayok thrift market.
She was well aware that her outfit probably wouldn’t fit the whole Sunday function vibe she imagined the party was trying to sell. She wanted to show off, to evade some rules, to get boys to look at her boobs while these sorority girls would preach to the Saints in these white baptismal dresses or whatever.
She knew she looked good, and she was thrilled for other people to see it too. Maybe she wanted Travis to see it as well, his eyes still checking her out as they stepped closer to the entrance.
He, on the other hand, looked absolutely ridiculous, Natalie thought. He had this unstretched white shirt on, paired with white jeans that made him look like a patched up altar boy, his black hair greasy, probably drenched to the core in hairspray, and Natalie decided to look away before she could think any more about how repulsed she felt by him.
Instead, she spent quite a long amount of time tracing every detail of the gargantuan mansion in front of her eyes, taking in her surroundings: an enchanting fountain laid in the grass, a set of two willow-trees perfectly placed on both sides of the main entrance, and these gorgeous statues picuring what Natalie believed were Greek goddesses stood out near the porch. Given her upbringing, Nat had never seen something quite like this before.
The interior left her even more in awe, if possible.
Once they stepped in, the party had already started getting into motion, hoards of students, all rigorously dressed in white, dancing and holding these fancy chalices brimming with crimson wine, or these shiny glasses filled with what Nat thought was the most expensive liquor she had probably tasted in her entire life.
Vases full of beautiful flowers were sparsely placed over glass boards all over the room, caskets of red fruits on glass tables, and then paintings of half-naked women and cherubs dominating the chamber’s walls, alongside a worryingly high number of crucifixes.
A few minutes after, Travis came back with two glasses of fine bourbon and a couple pills stuffed in his pocket, Nat not even noticing he was gone in the first place, too immersed in taking in her surroundings.
“We’re starting nice and slow, alright?” he told her with a laugh, before gulping down whatever pill he had in his hand by taking down in one sip the whole glass.
Natalie didn’t even bother asking, and before she knew, she was doing the same exact thing, the liquor burning in her throat, the heat of the alcohol and the sea of bodies surrounding her getting through her bones.
The party went on the way it usually does, they drank and smoked and gulped down whatever they were offered until their heads started spinning, and Travis would grab her ass in the middle of the crowd, whispering some gross bullshit to her ear before taking her to the nearest bathroom.
This time, the bathrooms were upstairs, all the way up to one of those gigantic stairwells that Natalie thought she would only ever see in movies.
She tried climbing up slowly, her vision blurred, but Travis’ hand in hers was pulling her harsh and fast behind him. He always acted like that, like a fucking teenage boy in hormonal crisis.
The bathrooms were of course all occupied, which Nat guessed they should have figured with that many drunken couples in one place.
“Let’s check the bedrooms” Travis blurted out, starting to make his way down the hallway and knocking on doors without success.
It happened at the third or fourth door that he knocked to.
Indistinct sounds of moans mixed with the obnoxiously loud music from downstairs and the violence of Travis’ knuckles hitting the door were all of a sudden interrupted by a sweetly intoxicating feminine voice filling Nat’s ears.
“They’re almost done”.
Natalie will never forget the image she saw when she turned around. Suddenly, the dizziness and unsteadiness that she felt just a second ago left her body, her entire attention shifting in an overly focus on the figure in front of her.
The girl had a good five inches over her, so she had to really raise her head to meet her big chestnut eyes, to see the sickeningly sweet smile tinting her plump lips covered in red lipstick.
Long wavy brown hair was framing her beautiful facial traits, aside from the locks that were prettily braided so as to circle her whole head, crowned by a golden headband decorated with withered flowers.
Her skin was naturally tanned and almost entirely unmarked, except for one single scar, placed in the center of her forehead.
She was gorgeous, mind blowingly so, and Natalie is pretty sure she had her mouth a little bit open while staring at her, draped in this breathtaking white dress, flowy enough to make her look like some sort of divine figure but without missing the opportunity to sharply highlight her curves.
Natalie was staring, and when she realized that she shifted her gaze to the two girls that were standing right on both sides of the tall girl, one hand holding the one of the girl on the right and the other the one of her left.
On her left, a dark-haired girl, her hair wavy and styled with several small flowers lurking between her locks. She was a few inches shorter, with sharp traits, skin more tanned than the girl on the center, probably of Mexican origin, just like Travis.
She was significantly prettier than Travis though, her lips painted in a brownish shade and a succinct white dress hugging her toned body. She was carefully eyeing both her and Travis, but mostly her, an annoying smug smile on her face.
On the right, a shorter girl with shiny blonde hair adorned with a flower crown, her eyes green and traits soft, a genuine kind smile on her lips directed in Natalie’s direction.
She was equally pretty, in a pure way, cross necklace gently laying on her chest, chaste flowy white dress, contrary to the other two whose stance was surely pretty but also conniving, an implicitly sensual hint.
Before Natalie could come up with a coherent response (or Travis for that matter, his eyes unmistakably checking out the girls in front of as much as she was, but how could she blame him? They were a divine sight, in more ways than one), the door Travis was banging onto a few minutes ago flashed wide open, two girls, hands interlocked, naturally all draped up in white, stepping out of the room.
The brunette had red lipstick all over her face, whereas the blonde was mischievously licking the back of her own fingers.
They were also breathtakingly stunning, the brunette with these big chestnut eyes and an impossibly unnoticeable imponent chest, while the blonde had this captivating gaze steaming from her green eyes that Natalie couldn't help but drown into.
She wasn't sure if the evident sight of their after sex portrait should gross her out or turn her on, but she was leaning towards the second one. And the disgusting boner she could see through Travis’ white pants gave her an idea it seemed to be the case for him too.
“You two are disgusting, you know that?” the latina girl on the left said, directed at the girls who just got out of the room, a hint of a teasing tone in her voice.
The brunette laughed in response, while the blonde gave her an unreadable look, promptly speaking up with a defiant tone,“Shut the fuck up, Mari. Like you're one to talk”.
“Oh yeah Jackie?” the latina hissed back at her, moving one step closer with a smirk on her face, “You want another bite perhaps?”.
At the response, the brunette of the couple stepped closer, raising her voice in an alarmingly sudden way, “Don't you even dare”
The latina girl, Mari, she gathered, tried to take one more step to further face the other girl, but she immediately stopped when the tall girl in the center tightly squeezed her hand and firmly said, with a stoic pose and unfazed expression,
“That's enough, girls”
And they stopped in the span of a millisecond, the hallway becoming hauntingly quiet, only the echo of the music from downstairs. They stopped the second the words escaped her mouth, completely hanging from her lips, following her like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Natalie’s eyes instantly went from circling around the different girls to singularly focusing on her. And God, she really had to be the most beautiful girl Natalie has ever seen.
Before that moment, Natalie knew that girls were beautiful, she liked looking at them, at their soft hair, plump lips, elegant curves. She had never exactly been with a girl, or had any experience with them, aside a couple messy drunk make outs of course.
Boys were easier, they were rough, and they only wanted to get her into her pants. She felt a knot in her stomach, not the good kind, when she kissed boys, and she sometimes felt the bile coming up when she had sex with them.
She figured it was just like that, just a way to fuel her circle of self-hatred, an easy way to punish herself.
Girls had soft skin, and they smelled nice, and they were gentle. Natalie didn't deserve nice and gentle, and so she would only stare from afar. Or up close sometimes, she figured, these beautiful five women basically circling her, the scent of their flowery perfumes in the air, their bright red lipsticks, and the petals between their locks.
It felt like an eternity later when the girl spoke up again, the others all staring right at her, waiting with trepidation to pend from any word that would have escaped her beautiful lips.
“It's all yours, if you want” she said, offering an unreadable smile in Natalie’s direction, eyes then moving towards the bedroom’s door.
Natalie froze at the sound of her voice, a lull, sweet but also a little scary. The girl’s eyes lingered on Nat’s for a little too long.
“Come on girls, let's go” she then addressed her attention back at her friends, or disciples , or whatever, and they all started walking towards the stairs, devotedly following her orders.
The girl briefly let go of the hands she was holding to get dangerously closer to Natalie, until their faces were basically inches away and Natalie could feel the dizziness to her head coming back all at once, but the alcohol wasn't the one to blame this time around.
She leaned closer, until her lips were mere inches away from touching Nat’s skin, and whispered in her sickeningly sweet tone in her ear,
“You could do so much better than him”.
Natalie could feel her breath on her crook of her neck, a hint of cherry flavored wine freezing her senses. The girl stayed in that dangerous position for a second too long then she was supposed to, and Natalie felt her heart racing right out of her chest until she finally stepped away, a stupidly charming smile on her lips.
“Lottie?” the blonde girl that was previously on the right side of the girl spoke up, looking back at her, all four of the disciples standing in front of the staircase, waiting for their leader.
Lottie , she called her, and Natalie figured that must have been the Charlotte everyone was talking about.
Meeting her was a thousand times more intense than she pictured from the depictions she scraped together from kids around campus though.
It was so intense that she couldn't get her eyes away from Lottie even when she locked her hands back with the two girls from before, and gave Natalie one last good look, a smile still on her lips, before descending the stairs alongside the four other girls.
It was so intense, that Natalie felt her eyes still lingering through the stairs, aching to see even an inch of her from afar, even long after their figures disappeared to the bottom floor.
It was Travis violently grabbing her wrist that brought her back, “Nat, come on” he muttered out, his nails scratching the back of her hand, his tone brimming with anticipation, “I want you so fucking bad right now Nat”.
Natalie finally brought her eyes back to Travis.
You could do so much better, the words kept echoing in the back of her head while he basically dragged her to the bedroom, pushed her to the bed and started pressing his wrinkled lips all over her neck.
Instead of Travis’ roughness and hastiness, she thought about the way soft hands would feel tracing the contours of her skin. How gentle red lips would feel on the crook of her neck, how her tongue would feel inside her mouth.
Lottie's image clouded her mind completely, to the point that the feeling of Travis’ body violently over her didn't even feel as bad as it usually does.
She imagined tan skin and long brown hair in the middle of her legs, and the other four girls all around the two of them, the smell of perfumes mixing, pairs of soft lips tracing all over her and oh God.
She was completely and utterly going insane over Lottie and her fucking cult.
Maybe she was a little religious after all.