Seven Am Cruelty
Title: Seven Am Cruelty
Fandom: Original
For: Thousandtables & 15_minute_fic
Word Count: 269
Every Sunday his parents insisted that he attend church, of course the earliest service that was offered. Not that he won't have argued over going at any time or day for that matter, but seven was in his mind beyond cruel. He felt at his age he should have the right to decided how to incorporate religion into his life. Which for him was none at all. It always seemed too far fetched, like a Roman or Greek myth he and the rest of his class were currently learning about. He knew God was just a way to calm people and their fear of the unknown.
Matthew 5:11, again. This was the third sermon in a matter of five months in that verse was read during the service. He would stare at his feet, draw in the program handed to him earlier by an overly excited six year old with chocolate milk smeared on her face, he think about the new student, the one with the cup c's. Anything but actually pay attention to a word being spoken. As his parents, one on each side kept elbowing him (surprisingly it hurt more from his mother) and whispers for him to pay attention.
When they'd get home a little over an hour after the completion of the service, though the drive was only ten minutes, he'd lock himself in his room, crawling under the covers. Trying to think of what excuse to use this time for his refusal to attend the weekly youth meeting, he didn't care if was going to be pizza there or not. Beer? Perhaps than.
Fandom: Original
For: Thousandtables & 15_minute_fic
Word Count: 269
Every Sunday his parents insisted that he attend church, of course the earliest service that was offered. Not that he won't have argued over going at any time or day for that matter, but seven was in his mind beyond cruel. He felt at his age he should have the right to decided how to incorporate religion into his life. Which for him was none at all. It always seemed too far fetched, like a Roman or Greek myth he and the rest of his class were currently learning about. He knew God was just a way to calm people and their fear of the unknown.
Matthew 5:11, again. This was the third sermon in a matter of five months in that verse was read during the service. He would stare at his feet, draw in the program handed to him earlier by an overly excited six year old with chocolate milk smeared on her face, he think about the new student, the one with the cup c's. Anything but actually pay attention to a word being spoken. As his parents, one on each side kept elbowing him (surprisingly it hurt more from his mother) and whispers for him to pay attention.
When they'd get home a little over an hour after the completion of the service, though the drive was only ten minutes, he'd lock himself in his room, crawling under the covers. Trying to think of what excuse to use this time for his refusal to attend the weekly youth meeting, he didn't care if was going to be pizza there or not. Beer? Perhaps than.