Stolen Innocence (25 page)

With our trip to Canada, I hoped to get a reprieve from this pain by spending as much time as I could with my sisters, but I still had to go to sleep at night, and Allen was always there, ready and waiting for me. Even at my sisters’ home, he was adamant that we do it. When it was over and he rolled over to close his eyes, I quickly redressed and tiptoed downstairs to the kitchen to get a drink.

It was late, and the whole house was quiet. With tears pooling up in my eyes, I sat down on the back stairs that led to the kitchen, unable to find a place for the pain that had been building up inside me. I was startled by my sister Teressa, who appeared in the doorway. She’d been in the kitchen when she heard my sobs and immediately came to investigate. She’d never liked Allen, and she couldn’t believe that I had been forced to marry him. Nonetheless, she had been willing to give him a chance.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Oh, I can’t really talk now,” I said, embarrassed that she’d caught me like this.

“Yes, you can. You can talk to me,” she said, stroking my head.

It was very hard for me to reveal what was going on in the bedroom with my new husband, and I faltered as I tried to explain it. Finally Teressa’s gentle reassurances allowed me to reveal my horrible secret. I told her a little about what Allen had been doing to me at night.

“What’s he doing to me?” I asked her, alarmed by the fury rising in her eyes.

“You are having marital relations with Allen,” she told me. “Do you know that is?”

“What’s that?” I asked her not sure what she was referring to.

Because
sex
is not a word that’s used in the FLDS culture, Teressa told me the basics of “man-wife” or marital relations. I was still confused because Allen was doing a lot more to me than what she explained. I told her how I felt like an evil, disgusting person, and she assured me I wasn’t and that none of it was my fault.

“Elissa, he doesn’t have to be doing that to you. You need to go and tell him that you don’t want to do this.”

“I have told him. I have told him from the very start that I don’t want him to touch me. And I don’t want to do or see anything. I don’t even want to kiss him.”

“This is wrong. Maybe you should go talk to Uncle Rulon and Uncle Warren about this, because they need to know how Allen is treating you.”

Teressa’s words resonated with me, and it was good to hear that maybe I was right. Maybe this wasn’t supposed to be happening. Maybe we weren’t doing what was proper. All I knew was that I just couldn’t continue doing what Allen wanted me to. I was surprised when Teressa expressed disappointment with our mother because she hadn’t told me what was going to happen after the marriage. But she was angry that Allen was forcing me to have relations with him, because I was so young. She had wanted him to wait.

By the end of our trip, I realized that Teressa must have spoken to someone else about my situation because the tension in the house began to mount and Allen wanted to get out of there. I was reluctant to say good-bye to my sisters, yet I was returning home with a sense of relief that I’d been able to share the truth with Teressa, and that she’d confirmed that what was happening was wrong.

“You do not let him do something to you that does not feel good,” Teressa instructed before our departure. “If he does, you tell somebody. You go to Uncle Fred and tell him what is going on.” Teressa wanted to tell him herself, but as an FLDS woman, she was forbidden to meddle in my marital affairs. As I stood there talking to her that day, I saw the same defiant spark in her eyes that I had always admired when I was growing up. Her certainty and her strength gave me hope. She was determined, and I took courage in her words.

On the way back from Canada, I learned that Lily had run away from her husband, Martin, and from the FLDS. Underneath her effort to keep sweet, she’d apparently been quite unhappy in her marriage and had escaped from Uncle Fred’s home soon after I’d left for Canada. Everyone was looking for her, and the priesthood was panicked. Some of Lily’s older brothers and sisters had left the FLDS Church, and everyone speculated that she had run off to be with them. People were fearful that the apostate part of her family would convince her to go public about her underage marriage, and by the time we arrived in Hildale, Lily’s disappearance was all anyone could talk about.

In the coming weeks, Allen resumed his work for Uncle Fred, helping with the care of the zoo. He was paid a small stipend, which he used for our living expenses. We didn’t have to pay room and board at Uncle Fred’s, but Allen needed money for gas and other miscellaneous things. Meanwhile, I tried my best to complete the ninth grade, but with the wedding, the honeymoon, and our trip to Canada, I had missed nearly a month of school, and in the end I failed my final exam.

Soon after our return, I set up an appointment with Uncle Warren. I was encouraged by Teressa’s advice and Lily’s bold move. I didn’t want to leave the FLDS—I just wanted to leave my marriage. I knew that if I left the religion, I would be forbidden to see my mother and younger sisters, and worse, I would lose my chance to go to heaven. Besides, where would I go? All I wanted was a solution that would allow me to remain with the little family I had left and in the only community I had ever known.

The more I thought about it, the more I believed that Uncle Warren would put an end to Allen’s activities. Everyone knew that he’d basically taken over for the ailing prophet. Trusting that he had the power to make Allen stop, I placed a call to Uncle Rulon’s compound. Uncle Warren’s brother Nephi, who acted as one of Warren’s scheduling secretaries, answered the phone. I told him that I needed to see Uncle Warren right away, but Nephi wouldn’t let me speak to him over the phone. “Well, what’s this concerning?” he asked.

“I just want to see him,” I replied, unwilling to provide any more information. Finally, I was given an appointment.

On the designated day, I was feeling optimistic as I stepped into the waiting room, but the looks I received from people coming in and out of the prophet’s office immediately unnerved me. Everybody knew that something big was happening if you were there to see Uncle Warren. Since I’d just gotten married, people cast curious glances in my direction, eager to know what could be going on so soon after the wedding.

“Elissa,” Uncle Warren greeted me with a handshake and a smile. “How are you doing? Where’s Allen?” he asked, surprised to see that I’d come on my own, without my priesthood head. “Does he know you’re here?”

“No” I replied, a little scared of how he would respond.

“Are you going behind Allen’s back?”

“I wanted to see you alone,” I told him, noting the harsh look on his face.

Following him into the prophet’s office, I felt more at ease. His manner seemed kind, and I was certain that he was concerned for my well-being. While I knew that my family had had difficulties with Warren in the past, I had been taught to trust him, yet as the prophet’s mouthpiece he also inspired fear.

“I’m not doing very good,” I told him as he took a seat in the swivel chair across from me. “I can’t do this.”

“Why not?” he asked me, looking puzzled.

“I just can’t be Allen’s wife. I don’t want to be here, and I never wanted to be here.”

“Well, you will learn to love him,” he assured me.

“But he touches me and does things to me that I am not comfortable with and that I don’t think are right or fully understand.” I was sure that once he heard that, he would understand what was happening, and like Teressa had said, he would put a stop to Allen’s behavior, but I was shocked by his reply.

“Well, that is not for you to decide. Your husband is a priesthood man,” he said in his slow, hypnotic way. “You are to be obedient and submissive to your priesthood head.”

“But Uncle Warren,” I implored, “I don’t know what he’s doing to me. And he touches me in my private parts and touches me in ways that I don’t like.”

Warren knew without a doubt what I was talking about, even though I had no idea how to talk about such personal, secret things with the most powerful man in our community. I didn’t even know words such as
sex
or
rape,
but I communicated to Warren the only way I could, and I knew that he understood.

“Allen is your priesthood head, and he knows what is right for you.”

I could feel the tears welling up and a thick, dry ball forming in the back of my throat.

“A woman’s role is to be obedient without question to her husband,” he continued, his narrow, black eyes boring a hole into me. “He is your priesthood head and will later lead you to the Celestial Kingdom, but only if he considers you a good priesthood obedient, submissive wife.”

“I’m sorry I failed this test that the prophet and God have given me,” I said. “Will you please just let me be separated from him? Please, I want a release,” I begged. A “release” in the FLDS is like a divorce. There is no such thing as a legal divorce. No member would think of going to court first, even if the marriage was legal. Only the prophet can grant a release, and it is extremely rare for a couple to request a release from a marriage that was revealed by God through the prophet. Just by asking, I was taking a great risk.

“I just can’t do this,” I said. “I’m sorry. I just, I beg you to please let me out—”

“You are doing insane things that will lead you to be unfaithful,” Uncle Warren firmly interrupted. “Sometimes in our lives, we are told to do things that we don’t feel are right. Because the Lord and the prophet tell us to, then they are right. You need to put your heart and feelings in line. You need to go and repent. You are not living up to your vows. You are not being obedient and submissive to your priesthood head. And that is your problem.

“You need to go home and repent and give yourself mind, body, and soul to Allen because he is your priesthood head and obey him without question because he knows what’s best for you. He will be directed by the priesthood and the spirit of God to know how to handle you.”

Clearly, Uncle Warren had not been listening to me. I had explained that Allen was touching me in private areas in ways I hated, and Warren didn’t flinch. He was completely unmoved. The only response Warren had was for me to go home, repent, and obey. I had no idea what I was supposed to repent for, and the only thing I could think of was being obedient to Allen. Somehow, all of this was my fault, because I wasn’t doing my duty in the eyes of the priesthood.

“Well, can you at least talk to Allen?” I asked.

Rising from his chair, Warren crossed the room to the bookshelf just behind me. Removing a volume of
In Light and Truth,
he sat back down by the desk. Skimming the pages, he marked a few that he felt were relevant to my situation. I knew the book well; it was the one that he had used to teach us at Alta Academy.

“I want you to go home and read the marriage covenant every day. And I want you to remember the covenants you have made to God and yourself,” he instructed, handing me the book. He also made it clear that I needed to stop confiding in my mother or anyone else about what was going on in my marriage.

“Can I come back and see you and let you know how things are going and maybe just get some words of comfort from you?”

“Well, you need to set that up through your husband,” Uncle Warren said, rising from his chair to show me out. “He needs to be here when you come in. And I don’t want you to come in here without him.”

Any hope for a release faded away as I heard Uncle Warren’s instructions. Not only had he denied me a release, he was sending me home to repent and submit my mind, body, and soul. Stepping out into the hot afternoon sun, I felt hollow and frozen, believing myself to be a very wicked person. What I was doing with Allen felt wrong, and I felt unclean for being part of it. As hard as I tried, I couldn’t stop my tears.

“What happened?” Kassandra asked me when I emerged from the prophet’s home that afternoon. She’d seen me go in to speak with Warren and had been watching from the kitchen window, waiting for me to come out. As soon as she saw me leave, she dashed over to meet me.

“Kassandra, I can’t talk to you,” I said, trying to hide my tears. “I’m not supposed to talk to any of my sisters or anyone about it. I’m supposed to go home and obey my husband.”

Allen was upset when he learned that I’d gone to Uncle Warren, but it didn’t stop him from continuing to touch me and force himself on me. He justified his actions by saying that this was what needed to happen for us to have a baby; it was what the prophet had intended for us. Each night that we had relations, he held my salvation hostage. What made it even harder was that he’d make me watch him touch himself, and left me feeling even more embarrassed and impure. Worse, he’d taken to manipulating me and my ignorance about sex, telling me that a man could become very ill if he didn’t have relations at least every few days.

I found it almost impossible to be obedient and do what Uncle Warren had directed. I couldn’t just submit to the will of my husband, but my resistance left me feeling like I was failing in the eyes of God. When I resisted Allen’s advances, he would condemn me for not obeying the prophet. When I gave in to him, as soon as he was done, he’d tell me that I was wicked for giving in to my mortal desires. Either way I was evil, and these mind games confused me terribly. Later I sensed that after he’d gotten what he wanted, he felt guilty, knowing that he’d violated me not just for the purpose of conceiving children. He absolved himself by passing his guilt on to me.

Somehow, I had gotten to the point where I could survive the abuse, but now I also had to deal with these mental games. Allen would continually use my emotions to free himself of his wrongdoing. While he was extremely soft-spoken and meek in public, behind closed doors I saw another side of him. Privately, he was calculating and controlling. Sometimes he would lose his temper.

As time wore on, Allen confided some of his fantasies and I was so turned off, I would shut my eyes and plug my ears. In addition, I came to see that he routinely painted his fingernails with clear polish, which was the only color that FLDS girls dared use. He told me that he liked his nails to look neat and clean, but the behavior struck me as very offputting in a man.