You’ve never been to church, sure your mama would tell you all about what she learned and whatnot, but Jack would read to you every night till you fell into a deep slumber. You’re sat aside in tight fancy clothes or at least the most fancy your family could get. John adjusting the collar uncomfortably Jack sat shoulder with you his eyes glued on the preacher. You’ve been in this position for about two or three hours, and you don’t quite understand what is so fun yet. But the story is intriguing, Abigail is slightly swaying off to the choir. A lady sits in front with two multicolored feathers in the stage hat with purple lace holding it intact. John is fidgeting uncomfortably which is a little weird to see him so uncomfortable.

“Are you enjoying it? I think they sing beautifully.” Abigail asks softly her eyes glancing off your way with a soft gaze and soft smile displayed. Your elder brother yawns as the wooden bench shifts beneath the weight of your family and an elderly shriveled couple that sat aside, they seen better days for sure. Dropped eye bags and an angry look in those brows, the man looked like a bull with his flared expression, you could only wonder what went on down to make them seem so miserable. “How much longer do we have? I’m sweating.” John complains quietly but of course, accordingly, there is always time for the lord.