Paragomania

[4]

The girl rubbed Ainsley's back as he dry heaved from anxiety. He had a habit of vomiting in stressful situations. The poor boy had such a weak stomach, everyone had grown accustomed to it over the years.

"Are you okay?" she asked as she rubbed his back. He managed to shove the dry heaves back down his throat to look up and answer her.

"Yeah.... I think I just messed up really badly, Kalaya." She pressed her lips together and nodded.

"Yeah, I agree. You messed up." He humphed at her.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence." She giggled, her dimples showing clearly. Kalaya was nineteen. She helped out with the children, along with Ainsley's mother. People used to give the two of them grief about marrying one day, even though she was three years his senior. They didn't know about her secret partner, of course.

"Come on, I doubt the Paragon will be judgmental. They're supposed to love everyone. That's what the scriptures say." Ainsley nodded, but that barely helped the churning feeling in his stomach.

You were guided to an area on the opposite side of the compound to the farming area. Large limestone tiles made up separate doors, which you realised were the bathrooms, probably for the whole compound. You couldn't help but sigh.

You had learned about cults through true crime documentaries and a sociology class in high school. There were stages to a cult, and characteristics that unified them.

1) They all had a shared ideology or a charismatic leader. You could easily identify that as this worship of the 'paragon'. AKA, you. Probably some ideologies you hadn't seen yet, like many cults touted some coming end-of-days. You wouldn't be surprised if the Messengers of the Paragon were also dooms-day people.

2) All cults demand undying loyalty, try to disrupt the average nuclear family, carry strong systematic indoctrination, emphasise punishment for variation, and isolate those who reject it. You hadn't seen much, but you were prepared to witness it.

3) A side effect of this would definitely be stripping all of the members of their privacy and their outside identities. Taking away private bathrooms in homes would both take away people's privacy and also force them to become an intimate community. You entered the bathrooms, finding many stalls. At least they left that bit of privacy, I guess.

You wandered past the make-shift stalls, seeing traditional bathrooms. At the end of the long bathroom space sat slightly larger, but more blocked off stalls that held showers. In each shower was a shower head, a drain, and a shelf far enough from the shower head to keep anything on it dry.

"YN," called a voice at the door of the bathroom. You perked up again, and there stood your father with his usual creepy smile. A royal purple robe was folded neatly in his hands. "Here you go. You go ahead and prepare yourself. Clean up, whatever will make you most comfortable." He placed the robes gingerly in your hands and turned to leave.

As you unfolded the robes, you realised how detailed the stitching on them was. Rainbow thread shaped flowers, bees, dragonflies, different crops, and stars across the fabric. You pulled it on, seeing that it fit loosely and dragged across the ground behind you in an elegant train. You exited the bathroom and looked around. People were rushing about, seemingly all carrying something on them.

"Kill me," Ainsley repeated, rushing down the well-worn paths. "Kill me, kill me, kill me, kill me-" Kalaya gripped his shoulders roughly.

"Snap out of it!" she barked. "Come on, Ainsley. It's going to be okay, you just need to calm down. If you keep throwing up like that, you're gonna wither away." He shook his head, continuing to freak out. Kalaya rolled her eyes at him and released his shoulders. There was no point in yelling at a deaf man from behind.