I don't know what to call this

The Monastery

He'd constantly wondered endlessly what kind of people they were if they ever even cared but in the end, it always came to the same conclusion-they'd left him. It hurt when he thought about them he never wanted to remind himself yet he would always find himself drifting towards it. Advik came out every night. When the city was asleep, when your breath was the only thing to hear for miles, when the whole world was just for you.  He would climb the frayed old church and just think for hours on end. Up there he was invincible, nothing mattered. 

His long dark legs gently swung back and forth over the run down rooftop ledge, ever so slightly dry clustering paint and brick crumbled under his knees and dropped to the ground like snowflakes. The Monastery was far out from the rest of the city, an isolated building right at the top of a steep hill. His guardian always told him to keep clear of it saying it was disrespectful to the gods, then again he never did listen. The building was a good 30ft of the ground and not safe in the slightest way however he wasn't scared he never was. The decaying old roof off the lonely white building had become his 2nd home. He found that up there in the midst of darkness and solitude was the only time he ever had to himself otherwise it was always brushed hair, clean teeth,be polite, smile. Advik hated the Idea of having to put on a fake appearance this perfect little boy who says please and thank you after every sentence, it felt so fake it was also why he'd been an orphan for almost 16 years.