A story I will be working on for a while.
|Lovely Las Vegas.
In my childhood, the most prominent thing that I remember is my father. He was a big man with a big reputation in my community. You see, my father was a preacher at our local church, a very famous one. All of his followers were just amazed at every word that sprouted from his dry, cracking lips. He licked those lips constantly while speaking at the podium, but nobody cared. Just another one of his lovely characteristics. Our small Texan Church of the Savior was my whole childhood, everything in it revolving around my father, the star of the show.
My mother was his biggest fan. She would mindlessly follow his teachings and repeat them back to us, her children, when we were at home, or going to school, or eating dinner....
After a while, I got sick of hearing the same thing over and over. I thought, "There must be something more than this shit." When I was 15, I started going to the library and reading fiction books more. The book I read the most was Harry Potter, secretly of course. Boy if my mother ever saw even a glimpse of that book, she would have thrown it out the window that second.