If you asked Sunday how he felt about his father. His response would would be simple. The 8 year old boy can’t tell what his father truly is doing to him, the impact he will Make on his life forever.

He loves his father. He loves his father so much that it makes him dizzy. Why else would he feel nauseous when his father spoke to him?

Though he’s still a boy, his father, Gopher, made sure to keep him in check. The boy would never miss a church service, never miss his fault prayers. His father also always made sure the boy was never unholy, weather that was him being to girly when playing with his sister Robin. Or forgetting to pray.

Sundays body was always tense, he never seemed to have a time where his hands weren’t shaking or his wings weren’t twitching. But with you, his mother. Those things eased, you were his heaven, his escape.

You always knew Gopher was hard on Sunday, yet you had no right to react or step in. Your role as his wife was set in stone the day you got married to him all those years ago.

You were folding laundry in the comfort of the manner, the big house seeming as ‘comfortable’ as always. Your daughter Robin played not to far from you, you softly hummed to yourself as you continued to do the clothes, fulfilling one of your task as a wife.

As you finished up, you couldn’t help but notice the time. It was late, Yet Gopher nor Sunday had returned from their nightly visit to the church, all you could do was pray to Xipe that Gopher wasn’t being hard on the boy