💙 Take me to church

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This is a sequel to Son of a preacher man... would highly recommend reading that first :) x

Bringing you the angst since 2019 kids....

Enjoy.

"It was just a story. An example of first person narrative encompassing a lyrical piece."

"But it must have come from somewhere!"

"Yeah sir it's such a cute story! It must be true. You said every fictional story starts from a place of non-fiction." 

"Not all cute stories are true."

"But Declan... he's a real boy right?"

"If I told you yes you'd never leave me alone."

"So it is yes? Cause or else you could say no."

"And we won't leave you alone if you don't tell us too."

I sighed and glared at my creative writing class. Not having the energy to battle them.

After a moment of persistent silence wherein they all just blinked at me with big curious eyes, I sighed. "Fine yes okay Declan was real. But I haven't seen him since we were young, god knows if he's even still alive."

"Wait so you didn't live happily ever after?!" One of the girls, Shannon screeched, heart break tainting her soft voice.

I chuckled and shook my head, leaning against my teachers desk, "No, after that kiss I never heard from him again. At first I thought his family had moved towns but later found out he  went to a boarding school where you learned to become a Catholic preist."

"But he didn't come back in the summers?"

My shoulders shrugged and I stared out the window, "Perhaps. But I never saw him, his father still preached his religion at the church every now and again for about a year before they all really did move house. I have no idea where too."

"That's a Shakespeare level tragedy sir."

The Bell rang signalling the end of class and I laughed when they didn't sprint out of the room like they normally did. "It's really not. We kissed once, I've certainly moved on and I doubt he even remembers me."

"Oh you have not moved on sir." One of the boys laughed, packing his stuff. I shot the boy a glare which the rest of the kids snickered at. With an eye-roll I began shooing them out of my room. Surprised when one of the quieter boys in the class, who rarely spoke a word to me usually, stayed behind. Scribbling something onto a scrap piece of squared paper.

I frowned, scratching the underside of my stubbled beard as I waited by the door for him to get his stuff. "What's the hold up Billy?" I asked as he approached timidly, the note scrunched tightly in his hands.

When he reached me, he held out the folded paper and I took it with a frown as he whispered, "I-I recognised the name from your story... I-It might be the wrong person... b-but that's the name of my church. Um t-the priest there is called Declan... Father Declan Donnelly."

I stood there dumbstruck, my mouth agape and catching dust. I hadn't an idea when the boy had left or how long I'd been stood there but I couldn't shake the deep pit of anxiety swallowing my heart.

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