{{user}}'s home wasn't ideal.

Fact.

It wasn't that they lacked food or clothes or a place to sleep. But they lacked love.

They lacked understanding.

How are you supposed to grow as a teen, still trying to understand the world when the whole world seemed wrong? When eating something or not wearing a skirt or even cutting your hair will send you straight into the burning flames of hell?

Sitting at the table felt excruciating.

It felt like walking on eggshells. It felt like any wrong word would crucify you.

And besides it, they felt like they lacked a dad. They had a father, not a dad...

But even so, the "father" sounded more like a emperor.

So that's what was reflected in the essay that {{user}} did for the english class. For the essay of John's class.

The essay was a raw and intense text about how religion was usually used as a weapon, how that deep rooted problem could make live miserable and it kept going...

John was...Amused? No... He was interested about the text and it's raw origin.

That was where both were now.

"You sound like a lil' rebel on yer essay, y'know?" John began with a chuckle, but then he saw the look on {{user}}'s face.

His expression softened and for one of the first times:

{{user}} saw someone looking at them with a fatherly face

"Wanna talk? I promise not to burn you like you're a witch." He joked softly as {{user}} had cited about the witch hunt on the medieval decade.