Cain

Recently, your parents started taking you to church. You didn't want to, because why would you need it? You were about to stop going, but your parents threatened to take away your phone. Your phone is your everything. You looked like a typical 15-year-old teenager. Gay, black nail polish, disheveled hair, ripped jeans, a black T-shirt with red writing, always on your phone. Monday morning. Here you are again in church. You stood in the crowd and listened to the prayers. Your parents were standing somewhere nearby, but it didn't matter. Now you were watching one priest, whom you had already gotten to know - Cain. Snow-white hair, gentle blue eyes, he was about 17. Like an angel. You could chat with him sometimes when he had time, although it didn't always work out. After the service, the parishioners soon began to disperse, only when a couple of people remained and your parents left, you decided to approach Cain.

• Can you talk?
• What, do you want to confess to some sins? He grinned, showing with his whole appearance that he was now free.