MARIEL

16~ God, Forgive Me ~

'Hello, journal. It's past 10pm, and I have not yet heard from Mariel. He took my car this evening, but once again did not tell me where he was going. I need to speak with him. Ever since his return, he has avoided any conversation regarding his resurrection and God's mission with him. I've tried to keep my distance and give him time. I know it has only been since Friday, but I've barely seen him. When I do, he goes to his room. He's barely acknowledged the issues that have risen within my church. It's a selfish thought, I suppose, wanting him to care. At least a little. He used to. Now, he is dismissive. If only I could see what is in his head...'

As Fr. Jerome placed the pen on the dining room table, Harlow plopped onto the floor and contentedly licked her fluff. Tiredly, he watched her and she glanced up at him. Let out a slow, soft meow.

"Oh, do you have advice for me?" Fr. Jerome peered down at Harlow. "Would you like to tell me what to do with Mariel?"

Harlow stared at him and then returned to her ritualistic cleaning.

But, what could he do? If Mariel didn't want to speak, he wouldn't. As Fr. Jerome leaned back in his chair, he considered their relationship, how they had always felt close. However, with consideration, he realized that perhaps, realistically, they never had never actually been close. He had always wanted to be the father and priest that offered the listening ear, even if he could not always provide a solution. However, there was a part of Mariel that had always hidden from him. It was as if he were afraid that Fr. Jerome would be unable to accept and love him fully, regardless of his weaknesses.

In the past, when Mariel did not disclose information, it was usually to hide undesirable information. Now, as Fr. Jerome watched Harlow spin in an effort to catch her tail, the old man could not help but wonder exactly what he was hiding now. Was it Godly? Was it sinister?

Fr. Jerome had given him space his whole life, to the point of neglecting his duties as a parent. Forgetting that, despite Mariel's divinity, he was the leader. The one in charge.

Now, even though his son was an adult, he felt that it was time to invade Mariel's space. This went far beyond basic parenting and 'normal monitoring'. Especially, since it was not often that one's child rose from the dead. He could no longer just simply complete his daily duties as a priest, constantly wondering where Mariel was, and when he would return. The boy still lived under his roof.

It was time to set some rules.

Bzzz. The phone vibrated on the wooden table. "Finally," Fr. Jerome muttered, and reached for the phone.

It wasn't Mariel. It was a text from Esther Caravan and, despite his disappointment, Fr. Jerome was curious to see what she had to say. He opened the text. Frowned with confusion.

'Hi, Fr. Jerome. I know this is random but... if you hear any extremely strange or horrible rumors about us in the future, please, please forgive me and understand that it isn't entirely my fault.'

"Huh?" The priest blinked at the screen and scratched his head. As he stood from his chair, he returned the message, murmuring the words as he typed. 'Would you like to tell me what this potential rumor might be?'

He stared at the phone for a while longer. Repeatedly, he assessed the message and, while he did so, he felt pity and concern. Due to Esther's outburst in the church, he had received multiple messages this week from several congregation members. They had demanded Phil Jameson's return as Sunday School teacher. 'Her words were unbecoming of a young lady. Horrible. Inconsiderate of the children in the congregation. Not to mention the fact that an openly bisexual person should not be teaching the young ones.'