My Savior | First Love Series

Chapter 19

I didn't think it was possible for churches, or any services of god, to close down. They're always open, day and night, at any given time. You might even find a pastor burning candles if you're lucky. Well, that's what happens in the movies.

Apparently, our local church is closed for renovations and the likes. Safety measures and all that. It caused ruckus from the loyal attenders- who complained that they didn't have anywhere else to go, and they needed to praise their lord and savior. My dad was one of the complainers. I thought he was going to start an entire riot and stop the renovation all together. I didn't mind the church being closed because either way I was still going to have some type of bible study. My parents will make sure of that.

I stood in the far back of the group that had surrounded the church, slightly embarrassed that my dad was being a dictator and threatening to storm the church. It wasn't very pastor/preacher of him. Mostly everyone that stood next to him, agreed. It didn't make sense to me, but when my dad looked in my direction, I put on a false frown which seemed to please him. The whole thing lasted for two hours until everyone gave up.

Now, it's one in the afternoon and I'm seated in my usual chair in the living room with my parents sitting opposite me. My dad has been busy with finding papers and markers for a study. Mom is just sitting her with hands laid nicely in her lap. It's been eerily quiet for a while now, and it's making me anxious.

"I'm kind of hungry," I announce, "I haven't eaten since I woke up. Can I make cereal?"

"I'll make it, honey." My mom jumps up, excited to do something. I watch her speed walk into the kitchen, then slump back in my seat. I wanted to leave and not be stuck with dad.

He doesn't look up once and only grunts when his mind is running miles a minute. I sigh in boredom and nerves which, now unfortunately, grabs his attention. I ignore his gaze and he doesn't seem to care that I'm purposely trying to avoid him.

"Nolan."

My eyes move over to him, slowly, nervous about what he's possibly going to say. He hands me a small stack of papers and a pen. I reach over to grab them from him and sit back to read over the papers that have scriptures on them. My nerves go up ten fold as I try to highlight and underline parts that I think he'd want me to.

My mom comes back in with healthy cereal that had berries in it and granola. She hands it to me with a smile and pats my leg before moving back beside my dad. I thank her and happily discard the papers before chowing down on the long needed breakfast. It's silent again, when my mom speaks back up.

"Oh! I just remembered something. Nolan, I saw Oliver at the grocery store the other day."

I glance up from my almost empty bowl and lick my lips, wiping off the excess milk. "Really? Did he look okay?"

"Yes, oh he's grown into such a young man! I think I saw a beard."

My dad slams down his papers with a look of disappointment. The conversation between mom and I immediately stops as he makes his distaste known. I sink back in my spot a little while mom just looks worried.

"Why are we talking about that boy? He's nothing but trouble, and has nothing going for him. There's no need to waste our breaths on his well-being."

"Well, Oliver was a good boy," my mom defends.

"He was not! Any person that has tattoos and smokes, damaging their body, is the complete opposite. I'm glad he's out of our sons life," he argues back.

"I'm not glad," I mumble.

"What?" my dad asks.

I don't know why or how, but I gain a little voice of confidence that has me sitting up more in my spot. "I said I'm not glad. Oliver was my best friend."

"He would have tainted you and that's simply unacceptable! I will remove any person I don't see fit out of your life. That's final."

"But you don't get to do that, dad! This is my life, and I get the say of who I want in it. Oliver was my best friend, Madaline and Julie are my friends, the guy you saw at the park is my friend and the girl you disapproved of is my friend!"

My mom looks between us with worry, her eyes showing clear distress. I know she's struggling about which side to pick. She tries to calm us down, but the storm has already started. I'm on a roll and my heart is ready to squeeze out all these unsaid feelings.

"You can't keep controlling my life like it's yours because it's not! I get your opinions, and you can give me advice, but you don't get to be judge and jury of things regarding my interests and friends, and other stuff. You're so blunt and emotionless that all you do is judge me, and wear me down, and you haven't been a dad since I've started high school,

You're not here for me like other dads would be- you only care about church and work, and barely mom! Do you know how it feels when my friends talk about how great their parents are? When their parents don't mind who they hang with after getting to know them? When their parents support everything they do? It's so hard to contain my jealousy because I don't have that. Then mom- you side with dad every time, even when you know he's wrong. You only comfort me in silence and I'm sorry, but that's not enough."

I feel my face when I notice small droplets, dropping onto my shirt. My dad hates when boys cry and this probably isn't an exception. Still, the tears fall freely and I'm surprised my nose hasn't snotted up. My mom sits still with her dainty hand covering her mouth. Her face matches mine with tears cascading down, trailing under her hand. My dad is motionless, his mouth drawn tight. We sit silently and uncomfortably after my kind of break down.

My dad opens his mouth but closes it just as quick with his hand gripping a pen. I can't tell if he's angry or just upset but either way, it's not good. I wipe my face again for good measure before standing with my almost empty bowl in my hand.

"I just want the parents I had before everything else became more important than me," I end my unattended rant, then go to empty and wash my bowl.

Even if I didn't mean to blow up, it felt good to say all of that to my parents. I feel much better now that I know they're aware of how I truly feel. There's so much more I feel like I could say but for right now, this is enough. I stalk up to my room, ignoring my moms soft pleas for me to return to the living room. I need time alone because while my chest feels better, my mind is still a 24/7 working factory.

I discard my shirt that felt constricted on my body and drop to my knees in front of my bed. I lay my upper body on my bed and sigh one good time before I continue the tears that I managed to stop in the kitchen. Thoughts fly left and right in my mind and I smile through the tears when I get one thought: Madaline is going to be so proud of me.