Chapter TwoMature

Christian looked around the room, the room was small but well lit, it was lined with stacks of books, mostly religious in nature, and the walls were covered with pictures, mostly paintings, of places he thought to be beautiful. Christian had called this place home for a very long time, it was where he always used to go when he felt alone, or when he felt sad, it was a place he could just be, a place away from the pressures of the world, the perfect place to just sit and pray. He spent all his time in the room alone, he never had company in that room, especially not from any women, Christian had always been raised to believe that was wrong, raised of course by his adoptive mother and father. They raised him exactly as the Church wanted them to, he was never exposed to anything bad, he never had the urge to drink, smoke or gamble, and they never taught him about sex, because after all, sex was a bad thing, something only immoral people did. He liked it in that room, at least he always had, lately though he was feeling slightly claustrophobic, like he should have been somewhere else, like he wanted to explore a little. It was the only place he had to go though since the church closed, that was a terrible day for Christian, his life ended that day, at least his life as he had always known it. From that point he wasn’t sure what he was going to do, a few people were moving away, after all there were no other decent churches nearby, everyone had expected Christian to do the same, but he didn’t, he stayed, he stayed behind with the aging man and woman he called his mother and father, they were getting old and something inside Christian told him not to leave them just yet.

As Christian looked around the room he smiled to himself, because despite the fact he felt claustrophobic he also felt an odd sense of belonging there. He took one last look around the room before he closed his eyes, then before he knew it hew was gone, off in a deep sleep filled with dreams he had never had before. The dreams were haunting, he dreamt of dark places and bad people, he dreamt of violence and death, the dreams should have been nightmares, but they weren’t, even though he didn’t realise it Christian was subconsciously loving every second. The dreams seemed to centre around one thing, a family, a family Christian didn’t recognise in real life, but nevertheless he was dreaming about them and the dreams were graphic. The family seemed to be gangsters, they were doing bad things and taking peoples money, they were killing people and dealing narcotics, everything they did, the lifestyle they led, was the complete opposite to anything Christian had ever thought about. The dreams seemed to be loud, they had a volume that was deafening to Christian, he could barely keep his head together as he dreamt them, they were beginning to scare him, sweat was pouring off his body and drenching the sheets he slept in but still Christian slept, completely unable to wrestle himself out of his sleep.

That was of course until he was ripped out of his violent sleep by his mother. He awoke with a start and looked at her, she looked older, she was dressed as conservatively as usual and her whitening hair hadn’t changed but she still looked older somehow, like something had made her change overnight, She had a look in her eye, she looked sad, she never looked sad, tears were running down her cheek, Christian had never seen her cry before.

Christian sat up and watched her leave the room, he knew then, even though his mother never spoke a word, he knew, his father was dead. He took it calmly, with decorum, like he was expected to, he took his Mothers death in the same way two weeks later. His adoptive parents were both dead, his Church was closed, for the first time in his life Christian was completely alone

The End

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