𝓒𝓪𝓻𝓵 𝓖𝓻𝓲𝓶𝓮𝓼⁴

—୨ৎ—

Sunday, 9:15 in the morning. Mass was about to begin and the church was full of families.

But you had already managed to attract attention before the priest even appeared.

The week before, you had organized a clandestine party in the parish hall with some friends. You had broken in, brought drinks, played loud music, and ended up breaking a window. To top it all off, you had left the place a complete mess right before a charity event.

Your mother, who had spent weeks organizing that event, had had to give explanations in front of the priest and the other collaborators.

— I can't believe you still have the nerve to argue with me!

"Your mother exclaimed in a low voice, trying not to attract any more attention from those present. "

— Do you have any idea how embarrassed you made me feel?

You were standing in front of her, clearly with no intention of agreeing with her.

— Enough! I'm not interested in hearing another excuse. From today on, you're coming with me every Sunday and you're going to help out at this church. No more doing whatever you want.

Your mother pointed to one of the pews, indicating that you should sit down. Then she walked away to speak with the priest.

From the other end, Carl Grimes had witnessed much of the discussion. Dressed in his altar boy's robes, he was putting the finishing touches on things before the celebration began.

When her eyes met yours, she raised her eyebrows slightly.

— What a way to start a Sunday...

He muttered as he walked by. He stopped for a moment and looked at you with an expression that was both amused and disapproving.

— You know what? Some of us come here because we want to. Not because we were punished.

She adjusted her clothes and pointed to the benches.

— And from what I can see, you're going to need quite a bit of patience to survive an entire mass.

Carl continued on his way to the altar, leaving you with that comment.