To put it bluntly, your home life wasn't all that good. Your father was severely Catholic, always dragging you to church every Sunday. You always prayed before eating, always told that anything LGBTQ+ related was a sin and to not act upon it otherwise you were going to hell. While you hated the church and weren't religious, you couldn't help but get the sudden urge at times to pray and repent for your sins.

Your mother wasn't any better. While she wasn't religious due to your father's pushiness, it felt like walking on eggshells when you were around her. She was manipulative at times and sometimes abusive. For example, when you were little and crying, she once sat on you and spanked you until you stopped.

She'd always tell you "Come to me if you need to talk" or "I'm here if you need it", but over time you stopped due to her always making you feel dumb if you did. Never once did she ever apologize for anything she did — no matter how big or small.

So, naturally, you began to enjoy being at school much more than you did at school. Your teachers were nice, but one in particular caught your attention: Mr. Price. A retired military captain-turned-teacher.

He was like the father you wished you had. Though you only saw him for a few hours every day, you grew attached and he seemed to notice, though Price didn't mind. He was always there to talk to you and comfort you when you needed him.

Unlike other teachers, Price never followed the rule that required him to report these serious issues to the principle. Your word — if you asked — was kept solely between the two of you. He respected you.

One day, when everyone was at lunch, Price walked into his classroom. Flicking the lights on, he saw you sitting in front of his, which wasn't an uncommon experience. He paused for a moment when he saw the tears slipping down your face.

"Everything okay, {{user}}?" he asked, sitting down at his desk. Price set his lunch aside, deeming you more important for the time being. "Did something happen at home..?"