It's been a couple days since I've left my room. That means I missed four days of school, avoided Madaline for four and a half, haven't seen Scarlette since Saturday, and Jackson since Sunday. After I got home from the park, my dad immediately found my mom in the kitchen and told her that I was being corrupted by people who didn't worship god. He then went on and told unnecessary, and false information. Of course mom believed it. She never believes me over him.

After that whole fiasco, I told my parents that I was starting to feel sick, so they allowed me to stay home...after I convinced them that my work wouldn't pile onto me. Obviously, it was a lie- I'm not feeling sick at all. My thoughts had gotten to me, and I didn't know if I could face my friends.

Madaline always tells me to stand up to my parents, but I never do. I couldn't face Jackson after my father talked badly about him, and I did nothing about it. I just let him talk. Scarlette would for sure be disappointed in me, disappointed that I was weak against my parents. I would probably break down as soon as I saw them, balling out apologies along with tears.

"Nolan!" my father calls, his gruff voice sending tingles in my eardrums.

I know if I call out to him, he won't answer me. I swing my legs over my bed and trudge downstairs in my comfortable outfit, accompanied by my Naruto socks. My parents are usually-always in the kitchen, so that's where I head to.

They're sitting comfortably on our bar stools with tea and papers in front of them. My mom greets me as I come in, while my dad just looks up before going back to his papers. He's been giving me the coldest shoulder, and I might have an idea why, but it makes no sense.

"Yes?" I say, after some time. Neither of them spoke after my mom greeted me, so I did it for us all.

My mom opens her mouth to speak, but my dad cuts her off. I'm pretty sure whatever they had to say, my mom was going to sugarcoat it. Dad doesn't like to beat around the bush. It isn't his thing. We found that out long ago, when he exploded on us, because my mom was 'babying me' which will turn me into a 'little prissy boy.' My parents fought all day because of that comment. Nowadays, my mom just lets the comments slide. I wonder what changed.

"You're going to church," he states.

"Church?" I answer, in a question. It's a Thursday holiday, there are no services. My dad simply nods his head as my mom smiles sweetly at me.

"It's not an actual service, but the church is open, and you can visit the confession box," my mom pipes up.

She said it as if it's no big deal. It's a huge deal-they're sending me to confess nothing. My dad waits for me to say something else, but when I continue to stay silent, he puts his papers up before standing.

"This conversation has gone on for too long. Go shower, and put on appropriate clothing. Your mother and I will be waiting in the living room."

My parents stand, revealing their church attire. They had no intentions to go inside the church with me, but I guess they still wanted to look the part. They wanted to look like good, caring, christian parents when they're in fact only two of the three. My solemn expression does nothing against my mother as she holds onto my dad's arm. She chose him over me, again.

I rush back to my room before stripping myself of my clothes, and getting into my shower. The water is ice cold, sending chills over my entire body. I make no move to make it warmer, enjoying the feeling of the freezing water.

After washing myself, good, I step out and dry myself before brushing my teeth and hair. I put on a normal church outfit; black slacks, a white, plaid dress shirt, a black tie, and finally black dress shoes with white socks underneath. It should look nice enough to satisfy my parents. Afterall my dad is wearing something similar.

I put on a watch as an extra accessory, and leave my phone. They're not allowed in the church we're going to. They'll just make me put it in a small, brown box.

Making my way downstairs and into the living room, my mom smiles at me before walking over to fix my tie. There was nothing really wrong with it, she just pulled it tighter with the sole intent to kill me. My dad says nothing to me as he grabs the keys from the bowl, and walks outside to the car. I go to follow him, but my mom stops me.

"Confess, and come right out, okay Nolan? Do as your father says, and he'll be happy- with the both of us."

"That's not fair, I did nothing wrong. There's nothing to confess, mom, and you know it," I express my true feelings.

We can only have talks like this when dad isn't present. It's the only time mom lets me know she's kind of on my side. To me, it isn't enough. I don't want her standing up for me in silence.

"I know, but just go along with it. Only for a few minutes, okay?"

Nothing else I say will change her mind, so I just nod. We leave the house together, and get into dad's car. He asks what took so long, and mom comes up with the lie that she wanted to fix my hair a little more. Dad, of course, complains that I should be able to do things like that on my own, and he'll never have the son he truly wants.

No matter how many negative comments he makes about me, I still love him, and will continue this sweet act towards him. It's strange, since we were perfectly fine on Saturday. They left, and I said goodbye. Sunday was completely different, and it was like a switch was flipped. Dad was back to being a grumpy, spiteful, old man.

The car is full of silence, which makes it the most awkward twenty minutes of my life. We get to the church, and I'm the first to get out. My dad probably thinks I'm eager to repent for sins that I didn't commit. In reality, I just want to get away from him.

The church doors are wide open, so I slowly trudge up the concrete steps before entering. It's empty besides preacher Drake, and whoever's on one side of the confession box. I've never been in it, so I have no clue on who's on the other side.

"Nolan!" the pastor calls out to me, "what are you here for, son?"

"Uhm- the confession box," I answer, truthfully. He'd find out eventually, so there's no point in trying to lie. Pastor Drake nods at me in an understanding way which makes me feel false guiltiness.

Reaching the treacherous box, I go in and close the small door behind me. Taking in a deep breath, I blow it out, slowly before speaking.

"Hello?"

"Go ahead, speak your truths, and confess."

"Uh- I lied to my parents...once about my whereabouts and the other about being sick. Lying is a sin, and lying to one's parents is a bigger sin. I also stole a cookie once when I was seven, so I feel like I should throw that in there."

The person on the other side just hums after I speak, and before he can say anything that sounds judgemental, I get up and leave the box. I take in another deep breath before blowing it out. Pastor Drake stares at me, resulting in me nodding at him in a reassuring way. He smiles at me as I leave the church, and go back down the stairs.

My parents are waiting at the end, while talking to another family that decided to visit the church. My parents notice my presence and smile that fake smile at me. It's the smile they use when other people are around, and they want to seem like the nicest of them all.

"Is this him?" the lady they were talking to, speaks up. She holds a hand out for me, so I shake it before letting my hand drop at my side. My father looks at me disapprovingly- I don't know why, I shook her hand.

"Yes, this is my son," my mom speaks up after a moment of silence.

"Oh, what a handsome, young man!" she preaches, showing off her nice smile. There's a girl, who may be around my age, standing right next to her. "Might be perfect for Julie."

Julie may be her daughter, aka the girl standing next to her. She looks shy, and won't even look in my direction. Her mom pushes her forward a little, which results in her twirling her hair in between her fingers, shyly.

My mom looks at me expectantly, but I don't want to talk to anyone right now. Well, not anybody that I don't know. I apologize, and tell them that I still don't feel well. My parents promise the lady to a next time that I truthfully wish never happens.

We're soon back in the car, and on the way home. It's silent again, but not for long.

"How was the confession?" my mom asks.

"It was fine. They gave me some good advice after," I lie. Something I'm more than comfortable with doing now.

"Good," my dad, answers. "We're going to another service, tomorrow. I expect you can be alone?"

"Yes."

"Good." That was the end of that conversation.

We get home a couple minutes later, and my feet carry me into my room. I grab my phone and call Madaline. I tell her everything that happens and she promises to see me tomorrow. With that in mind, I change into more comfortable clothing before falling asleep.