John 8:32

18 - Colossians 3:25

Anyone who does wrong will be repaid for their wrongs, and there is no favoritism.

My god, I am sorry for my sins with all my heart.

Spencer sat in the passenger seat of his dad's car. He had been riding home with his dad from church for years. That mile and a half ride had never felt so agonizingly long. His father didn't speak to him. He only glanced in Spencer's direction to make the turn down their street.

They pulled into their garage, and Spencer couldn't be out of that car faster. He restrained himself only to stay under his father's radar. He had never been so above his radar, but Spencer could try.

I am choosing to do wrong, and failing to do good.

Spencer slipped off his shoes at the door — making a beeline for the stairs up to his room. He was hoping to make it upstairs and hide until everything blew over.

I have sinned against you who I should love above all things.

"Give me your phone and laptop."

So much for hiding.

"Why?" Spencer turned around, "I need those for school."

"You're being punished."

Of course he didn't care.

"Bring them to me."

I firmly intend, with your help.

Spencer trudged up the stairs — no longer in such a rush.

To do penance.

He grabbed his phone from the drawer in his desk. Spencer briefly considered deleting his messages — but he was in as deep as he was going to get now. It couldn't get worse, and he didn't want to make his father suspicious. So he powered it down and pocketed it.

To sin no more.

Shutting his laptop, Spencer picked it up from the desk, unplugging the power cord.

And to avoid whatever leads me to sin.

Spencer caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror as he left his room. Fuck. He looked so... empty. He didn't look like himself. Just a blank shell. That's how he felt.

Our savior, Jesus Christ.

He went downstairs and placed his devices on the counter like his father asked.

The hand across his face came before Spencer could even think about preparing himself.

Suffered and died for us.

"You lying bastard," he spit out with hardly a second thought, "You said you wouldn't touch me."

"I am your father," his dad grabbed Spencer by the front of the shirt, like he was going to do more.

"Then don't touch me," Spencer wasn't going to give him the chance. He pried his father's hand off of him, giving him as hard of a shove as he could muster.

Before his dad could even think about following, Spencer was back up in his room with the door locked.

He finally slumped into the corner, shoulders shaking with tears he didn't realize he was holding back. He was more alone than he had ever been.

In his name, my God.

Have mercy.