cigarettes in church

A Story by superstar .

A story about an unfinished relationship between two boys.

When I was 13 and still lived in Poland, I had a friend that invited me to church. He would even invite me on Saturdays, since his dad was the pastor and would need extra help for events.

We would decorate the white exterior with colorful balloons, sometimes even adding new paintings that kids, teens, and adults painted and drew from our kind city.

One day I walked up to see my friend, Tomasz, smoking a cigarette. After all, he was 5 years older than me, so I didn't say anything. He must've read my face, because he straight up told me, "Found it in my uncle's house," He spoke in a sharp, clear, and even tighter Polish.

I tugged at my pants and forced a smile. "I wasn't going to ask. I don't think God will like it, though,"

He ignored me and walked me inside.

It became a pattern, him and the cigarettes. The only time he didn't seem to have it was on Sundays, on the day where he had his little lines to say the church. On another Saturday, I didn't see him outside. He hadn't even called me on my flip phone to annoy me about coming to church. So, 13 year old me decided to let myself in.

Nearly greeting me, there was a large sketch of an angel with a gender I couldn't make out, but they were pointing back to the entrance of the church. Only the hand and half the body was drawn. I walked past the empty benches and found a pack of cigarettes on the second bench from the front. If Tomasz found it good, why shouldn't I? I grabbed it and suspiciously found a lighter in one of the bench pocket things. Just about it light it, Tomasz stepped in, hair full of confetti. He was smiling like an idiot. He noticed me and got all serious-like. "Don't touch that," He whisper-shouted. He ran up to me and snatched both things out of my hand. Tomasz stared at the items for a little while and lit the cigarette. Before he put it in his mouth, he simply smiled and told me, "You're too young for this stuff," he finally put it into his mouth and puffed in my face, "Yuseph."

I swatted the smoke away. "That's bad for you. You're addicted."

"I'm not addicted. In fact, I stopped smoking to work on that beautiful sketch over there."

I mean, he wasn't the best at drawing, but it was good. "So why'd you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Draw the sketch,"

"Oh, I made my own Biblical story. It's about an angel that fell in love with a human, but got their heart broken. That's why angels haven't come back to Earth."

"Laura is an angel," Now it was my turn to grin.

"Then she'll get her heart broken."

Ouch.

"You need to quit."

"I'll quit when I get a girlfriend." Tomasz threw the cigarette and the lighter somewhere I couldn't comprehend.

To this day, I couldn't understand why I liked him so much. Maybe it was his drawing. Maybe it was the church. Maybe it was the cigarettes. I looked at his grave and an unfinished drawing of a flower on it. It seemed familiar, somehow.