Every morning it was the same habitual routine for Ashleighn. Wake up, get dressed, shower for approximately twenty three minutes, and attempt to run when Amari started screaming at him for using all of the hot water again. After that particular nightmare was over, he’d go downstairs, fix himself a bowl of pre-breakfast cereal before his momma got ta’ cooking. Being that it was Sunday morning, Ashleighn didn’t automatically turn on the television. Instead, he sat himself down on the kitchen table and chowed down on his cereal like a good little boy. Momma walked in soon after that, ruffling his hair in greeting as the cool air of the fridge met his arm, which meant that she was probably taking out the bacon, eggs, and sausages for breakfast. On Sunday mornings, his momma went all out. It wasn’t that she didn’t always make an effort to make them the most fattening breakfast their was (could you blame her? It was the south after all), but on Sundays, she went for the extra mile, which usually meant home cooked pancakes, waffles, grits, more syrup than Ashleighn could physically contain and enough meat and eggs in his belly to keep him almost satisfied until lunch. Almost.

Breakfast was the usual affair, Ashleighn helped himself to four servings of everything while his sister, Amari, watched in mild amusement and avid disgust. His momma just shook his head, smiling at their antics— and of course the fact that Ashleighn chowed everything down like his food planned on running away from him. Around eight o’ clock did Ashleighn finally head up to his bedroom again, putting on his usual black slacks and oxford shirt for Mass on Sundays. Unlike most boys his age, he actually loved the Church. Actually, love was probably an understatement. Ashleighn lived, breathed, and worshiped the place like it was nobody’s business. His unyielding faith in god really had nothing to do with family-pressure, it was more along the lines of Ashleighn choosing to blindly trust in a belief that most people began to doubt. Those who actually survive the penitence of doubt are the real believers.

They were all dressed by eight thirty, Amari taking more time than his momma and Ash, and to punish her for making them wait, Ash didn’t hesitate poking her back and forth in the car. Only after momma turned around and flashed him with a look did he finally recede his temptation of bothering his baby sister. As usual, when they arrived, the church was packed. Filled with people dressed in their Sunday best and Ashleighn looked pretty darn sniffy himself. He spotted a few of his close friends, also boys who attended service, along with Pastor Dave, who welcomed him with a hug. Really, sometimes, this place felt more like home to him than anywhere else— and more than once, Ashleighn wondered if this was a life that he wanted for himself.