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My parents convinced my sister that she was possessed by demons—and that only pain could drive them out.
Every time Sarah "sinned," they'd make her punish herself to "cleanse her soul."
Started small when we were kids.
She'd slap herself hard across the face for saying bad words.
Hit her own hand with a ruler for "impure thoughts."
By middle school, my parents had her convinced the demons were getting stronger.
"Sarah, the evil spirits are making you lazy. You know what you have to do."
She'd nod solemnly and lock herself in the bathroom.
I'd hear the sounds through the door—hitting with whatever she could find.
Hairbrush. Wooden spoon. Her own fists against the wall.
When she came out with fresh scars, she'd thank our parents for "helping her stay pure."
The worst part? She genuinely believed this was normal.
"Every family fights demons," she'd tell her friends. "Some people just aren't strong enough."
When teachers noticed bruises, Sarah would proudly explain that she was "very good at spiritual warfare" and the marks proved "demons were leaving her body."
Our parents would smile and tell everyone how "blessed" they were to have such a "spiritually mature daughter."
By high school, Sarah was escalating to things that made me sick.
She'd burn self with lighters for "lustful thoughts."
Cut her arms with razors for "pride."
Stay awake for days because sleep was "letting her guard down against Satan."
I tried to intervene so many times.
"Sarah, this isn't normal. Mom and Dad are making you hurt yourself."
But she'd look at me with these hollow, terrified eyes.
"Maya, I can feel them inside me crawling around. If I don't fight them, they'll take over completely."
She truly believed self-harm was the only thing keeping her soul intact.
Senior year, the breaking point came when Sarah failed a math test and came home sobbing.
"The demons made me stupid. I need to do the big punishment."
I followed her to the garage and watched in horror as she pulled out Dad's power drill.
"The demons are too strong now. Mom said if regular pain doesn't work, I need something more serious."
She was about to drill a hole in her own leg.
I tackled her and wrestled the drill away, screaming for our parents.
When they came running, I expected them to be horrified.
Instead, my mom looked disappointed.
"Sarah, you know better than to let Maya interfere with your spiritual journey."
My dad nodded gravely. "The demons are using your sister to stop you from getting better."
That's when Sarah turned to me with pure hatred in her eyes.
"You're working with them, aren't you? The demons are using you to keep me weak."
She grabbed a kitchen knife and started cutting her arms right there in front of all of us.
"I'm sorry, demons! I'm sorry! I'll be stronger!"
I called 911 while our parents just watched, nodding approvingly like she was performing exactly as they'd trained her.
When the paramedics arrived, Sarah fought them off violently.
"Don't let them stop me! The demons will win if I don't finish!"
It took three grown men to restrain her while she screamed about being "spiritually contaminated."
At the hospital, the psychiatric team had never seen anything like it.
The doctor told me it was the most severe case of religious abuise he'd encountered in 20 years.
"Your parents didn't just brainwash her—they created a complete alternate reality where self-destruction is survival."
Sarah spent four months in intensive psychiatric care, learning that the "demon voice" was actually our parents' programming.
Our parents were arrested for child abuise and reckless endangerment.
During the trial, videos came out of them coaching Sarah on "proper punishment techniques."
The judge called it "systematic tortoise disguised as religion."
The last voicemail from our parents came six months ago: "The demons won. We hope you're happy."
Sarah deleted it without listening to the whole thing.