The priest was shocked, veins pulsing on his forehead like he was about to say gods name in vain. “But we did everything for you,” he heaved, his belly moving under his robe with every breath, “we helped with your father’s funeral. I was there when you were born, I arranged your first birthday party-”

“And I kneeled at temples for you,” I interrupted, “you know that? How many times my knees were bruised because I was sure mortality meant nothing compared to divinity because I believed in a prophet that never came, because I believed you? Who was in those clouds father? All the times I looked up and begged for things to be different where was your fucking god? I lost my faith because it let go of me first so don’t you DARE act like I was the one who walked away. I didn’t ask you to do any of that stuff I didn’t ask any of you!”

He stood sweating and silent in front of the stained glass that I tried not to look at. “Child,” he said, “God, he has a plan for you I promise.”

I couldn’t hold in my laugh. “No father, I have a plan for me. My life is my bible and no amount of translators will change the ending.”