MAF 12

Knuckle Bones of a Saint (or Dreamwalker)The boy clutched rosary beads until his knuckles turned white. He sat in the last pew, listening to a priest shout verses at the congregation. His grandmother was next to him, her hands clasped in prayer. He could hear her slight whispers and felt his heart sink. She was praying for his soul.
Pedro rose and exited the chapel, short stature making it easy to slip away unnoticed. Once the doors closed behind him he let out half a sob. In his twelve years he had never felt as he did in that moment. His own family thought he was some sort of devil. Abuela's doubts had been dispelled by last nights' violent episode.
Taking deep breaths, he started to walk home. His feet stuck in the half mud half dirt road, sandals squelching each time he lifted them. Rain pattered on the thatched roofs of the huts he passed on the small deserted road. Everyone had gathered at the cathedral.
The rain fell heavier as Pedro reached his family's hut. Pushing the door open, he kicked off his mud-caked shoes. Th          <da:thumb id="548293287"/>
To the one.I'm missing you so much
I don't know what to say
If only you'd some back and stay
I still think you'll come back and its just a hunch
I wish it to be true
After all that we've been through
Giving thought thorough
An apology is due
For becoming a monster
Becoming a beast
Giving the least
That you left is no wonder
For being harsh and hard
I thought it was strictness
But it turned into sickness
I feel like a retard
I wish if you could answer
Positively about your return
I might just wait until I lie in an urn
Question no further     <da:thumb id="547692651"/>