All Yours
Total immersion.
I filled out the application at 3 a.m., tears blurring the screen as I typed my story.
They accepted me two days later.
I packed one bag—jeans, sweaters, toiletries, nothing fancy—and drove north.
The compound was buried deep in the Washington wilderness, hours past the last cell tower. The road narrowed to dirt, twisting through endless pines until the iron gates appeared, overgrown with vines like they’d grown there naturally.
A woman in flowing white opened them—Seraphina, mid-thirties, long red hair braided down her back, smiling softly and welcoming.