Confessions of a Teenage Alcoholic

Chapter 35

A/N: HI IM BACK. UNI DONE:)

The building before us was beautiful, old stone merging with nature and stained glass. It was a mystery to me why we were here though, Jackson wasn't really religious, so I stared up at him in confusion as he turned the large ring door knob and pushed the large wooden door open.

"Are we allowed to be here?" I ask, our hands still laced together.

"Yeah, nobody comes here anymore."

Jackson leads me into the little room before the actual main prayer room. The air was cold and as he closed the old church door, a silence came over us and the outside world seemed to fall away.

This quiet air was laced with the scent of incense and candles, as if the days of prayer were still going strong. But this scent mixed with the smell of old prayer books, the earthy tones combined with traces of sweet vanilla, told me that this place, once loved, was now forgotten.

Forgotten by everyone, apart from Jackson, it seems.

He opens the next door and pulls me behind him as I just take in the old, decaying stone. It looked weathered, used, as if was aged much like a person, its life played out on its skin.

We didn't speak as I took in the main room, the warm rays of evening sun glowed through the large windows, illuminating the benches that ran either side of the aisle, a few stained in colour, painting bright vivid displays across the room. Just the light was utterly beautiful, and I wondered why we came, so close to the end of the day, when these rays were soon to be gone.

I took in the rest of the room and couldn't help but feel as if he had taken me to some broken piece of time. Everything was how it should be, if it was a working church. Either side was laced with book shelves, old prayer books and what looked like classic literature still stacked up along them.

The benches were dusty but cushions still laid there, ones for your knees, ones that children would stand up on to see better. The bible was still open at the front of the room, on the little podium that a leader would have stood behind and preached from.

It looked as if suddenly everyone just disappeared, that suddenly this little place was forgotten about and left.

Jackson squeezes my fingers lightly and then pulls his hand away from mine, slowly walking ahead of me as he went to the front of the hall, where a choir would have once sung.

The further away he moves the easier it is to breath, but I had begun to enjoy the feeling of breathlessness he often left me in.

So I was left watching this boy, in wonder, as his hand traced a grand piano that was sat at the very back.

"To me, this is the most peaceful place on earth." He says, his legs carrying him away from the instrument and he sits, on the little step that separated the priest to the churchgoers.

I listen to his words and wait for him to continue, knowing he would.

I wander myself over to one of the warm stained windows and spread my hand out, letting the rays of colourful light bounce off of my fingers, watching in awe as the colours coat my skin. I turn to him, knowing the light was now spread over the side of my face, and smile softly as his eyes are already stuck on me, and the way I was staring at the beautiful light display.

"Explain it to me?" I ask, prompting him to continue and his eyes meet mine in confusion.

He almost looked dazed.

"What?" Jackson whispers and I cock my head to the side, only slightly.

"The peace, Jackson. Why you brought me here."