Stolen Innocence - Lisa Pulitzer [109]
Over time, shouldering all these responsibilities and managing my deteriorating home life began to take its toll. Technically, I was living with Allen in our trailer, but I spent as much time as possible with my mother and sisters up at Uncle Fred’s. Although I loved being with my mom, Uncle Fred’s home was a tense place for me. Allen was often reporting to Fred about my disobedience, so I had to be careful in my comings and goings there. Even though I was still in a desperate situation, I did my best to keep my mother sheltered from the truth. She had Sherrie and Ally to worry about. I didn’t want her to know how Allen was using me sexually. And I certainly didn’t want her to know about the miscarriage that I’d had that past spring, or a second one that I suffered in the late summer of 2002. The second was not nearly as severe as the first, but still, I was traumatized.
The result of all this was that on the nights when I was with Allen I found it more difficult to maintain a “sweet” composure in the face of his constant advances. One experience in particular that fall pushed me to become desperate to get away from him. Eager to get some time alone, I had called Uncle Warren in October to ask if we could meet.
“No,” he’d said firmly. “You need to come in here with Allen.”
“Well, can I just ask you over the phone what I need?”
Pleased when he didn’t hang up, I proceeded to tell him that I wanted his permission to travel to Canada to visit my sisters.
“Well, that is between you and Allen,” he told me. “You need to bring it up with him.”
“Well, I have,” I explained. “I’ve asked Allen if I could go, and he said no. I…I just need a break. I need some time separate from Allen so that I can gather my thoughts and regenerate.”
“Pray, and just remember what your mission in life is,” Warren said before hanging up that day. He hadn’t given me permission to go.
By December 2002, I had become so depressed that I was struggling to get out of bed in the morning. A glimmer of hope was rekindled in me when my sister Teressa and her husband, Roy, arrived from Canada to pay respects to Uncle Rulon and visit his grave. Spending time with them immediately raised my spirits, and from the moment Teressa saw me, she knew I needed to return to Bountiful with her. Despite my continued pleas, Allen refused to let me go.
“I’m not going to do anything,” I told him. “I just want to see my family and have a break.”
Allen knew that our marriage was falling apart, but he refused to let me go. “Your place is by my side,” he said. “You need to be here.”
At one point during Teressa’s stay, I accompanied her and Roy to an appointment that they’d set up with Uncle Warren. Since he was now officially our prophet, they needed to check in and seek his guidance before returning to Canada. Warren did not seem pleased that I was with them, and I was very nervous. Teressa maintained that she needed my help with her new baby and raised the issue of me accompanying them back to Bountiful. She and Roy had three children, and Teressa made it seem like with Roy out of the house for much of the workday, she would need an extra set of hands to help out.
I also tried to explain it myself, telling Warren again, “I don’t feel like I’m in a good place right now. I need to have some space from Allen and to gather my thoughts.”
Warren couldn’t understand why I was bringing up the same problem again. “I’ve already told you that you need to speak with Allen about this,” he reminded me. “You need to do what Allen tells you. If you are