god loves you but not

When he was young, Javi would pray when the storms came. The words, learned from his mother’s hunched back, her fingers pressed against the wood of her rosary, would pour from his lips like the rain above them - Ave Maria, gratia plena. Dominus tecum.Thunder would crack high above them, his family, his mother and sister and him, pressed into the small bathroom in their house, the only windowless room there. The bang would rattle the thin walls, his mother’s pride and joy, her stained glass windows creaking. His sister cried, soft and tired, and Javi would start his prayer again.(Or, Javi wasn't born into the sort of world that welcomed him with open arms, he turns to storms to survive.)