No Care and No Sorrow

1-Sunday: Evening (Nathan)

Content Warning: Horror Violence, Hate Speech, Profanity

"In a utilitarian age, of all other times, it is a matter of grave importance that fairy tales should be respected."

-Charles Dickens 

"Nathaniel. You're going on the trip tomorrow. My house, my rules." Sneered the bearded, stalky man looking down at his much smaller son, who sat on the edge of his bed. His father towering over him, taking up all the oxygen in the bedroom. Nathan is thirty. But due to lack of muscle and boney shoulders, he appears smaller than most his age. Nathan was the nerdy kid in every cliché high school movie. Glasses, button-up shirt, a kind, timid demeanor, hairless chest and cheeks and obsessive about fictional worlds.

"Dad, please. I really wanna catch up on TV shows and read. You go enjoy the outdoors. It's not where my heart is. Maybe...some other time?" Nate said sheepishly, ringing his hands. He wished he could lie down here and now and just sleep and pray that his father would leave him be.

"You'll grow old and be a lonely queer. I care too much about you to let you become some useless writer or artist. You're gonna be a nature man. Fishing. Hunting. Providing for a sexy wife and beautiful child. I was WAY too fucking easy on you in high school. It's why I have full guardianship over your useless ass. You're going. Unless you want the belt again." Nate's dad gestured to the black leather belt wrapped around his work pants, his fingers hovering over the metal clasp covered in dry blood.

Nate looked at his hands, seeing the old wounds of the metal buckle from just a few weeks back. When Henry was in one of his drunken rages. Never did he hit his wife, even during the divorce. All the strikes went to Nate.

"Alright dad." He swallowed hard, feeling sweat pool under his armpits. Sweat of terror and submission.

"Good boy." Henry ruffled his son's blonde hair. "Sometimes you make your old man proud."

***

Heading downstairs, the home was quite nice. Two floors, always rather clean. Henry sat in the middle of the dining room, which connects to the primary hub of the home known as the living room.

Nathan sat at the opposite end of the long, dark wooden table, a plate of steaming vegetables in front of him. Nathan's dad didn't force him to eat meat. He knew that was a lost cause. Not to mention, if Nate was too emaciated, the social worker who came monthly would question it and take Nate away.

He looked at his small meal and ate, making sure not to make eye contact with his father, who chewed on a thick piece of veal and potatoes.

A grandfather clock ticks through the home and an old radio played an old song. "Above and Beyond" by Buck Owens.

"I'll go on the trip, Henry." Nathan said tiredly. Not tired in the usual staying up late. A sort of mental exhaustion. Submitting to an evil that seemed larger than life itself. That evil was known as his father. So much power, and so much viciousness, wrapped into one twisted man. Had God thrown everything evil into one person? It seemed entirely possible.

"Good. Glad to hear it. Call me dad, though. You know I deserve respect. You know what happens if I don't get that respect."

"Yeah." Sighs Nathan, finishing his small portion.

In bed. Finally. Henry was downstairs watching some sporting event drowning in beer. Though he was in a good mood tonight, so probably no beatings would happen. Nathan tried to read a hardcover book called "Devolution" by Max Brooks. But his mind wondered, and he finally turned off the bedside light which sat on a small nightstand along with books he had yet to read.

His bedroom dipped into total darkness. Strange shadows danced across the room, shadows of Nate's writing desk and shelves of fantasy novels that circled Nate's only personal space. The light source of these shadows was from the open window a few feet away from the bed. The moon was beautiful, big, and silver. He kept the drapes open. He enjoyed feeling a slight cool breeze as he slept.

Closing his eyes, he quickly opened them. Truthfully, he wasn't sure if he was in a deep sleep and dreaming or not. The man swore he felt something watching him. Turning his head to the bedroom door, he didn't see Henry standing holding his leather belt. So, if someone was indeed watching-who was it?

Getting out of bed, he walked to the open window, wearing only tight underwear, and peered out. The single street he lived on was dark. Living out in the country meant streetlights weren't common. Houses weren't close to one another, so a neighbor would need to walk a mile or so just to watch him sleep. Woods surrounded the home. Occasionally, a truck would zoom by, but nothing much else. It seemed ridiculous.

He looked at where the moonlight hit the road. Perfectly illuminated in shadow was an orange fox in the middle of the street. Almost like a ghost.

Nate pondered. Should he go outside and get a closer look? He loved animals. More so than every person he had ever met. The fox stared with its black, beady eyes and mangled orange fur. It's four paws still and its bushy tail wagging. The eyes were unblinking and looking straight into Nathan's soul. If a fox beckoned with words or a gesture, he'd gladly go with it. Maybe he'd enjoy life with animals? Maybe they wouldn't abuse him and use him? If an animal were his guardian, maybe things would turn out for the better?

As quickly as it came, the fox leaped into the woods, which stood across from the cement road.

Nathan sighed, annoyed at himself, and went back to bed. Wrapping himself up in a light blanket. It was 1:00AM, and he had to be up for the hunting trip at 9:00 sharp.