His name was Nathaniel

18

Nathaniel spent most of the day in a daze, overwhelmed by the unfamiliar surroundings of the hospital. He had never been outside the mansion much, let alone in a place as stark and busy as this. His mind buzzed with thoughts of Adaliya, memories of their time together mixing with the stark reality of his current situation.

By late afternoon, Nathaniel found himself growing restless. He had always been confined, but now that he had tasted a bit of freedom—even in a hospital—he wanted more. He knew it was risky, but the walls of his room felt like they were closing in on him, and he needed to move, to see more of this world he had never known.

After some internal debate, he decided to approach Greg. Greg had always been more understanding than his father, and Nathaniel hoped that his old caretaker might allow him a bit more leeway.

"Greg," Nathaniel began hesitantly, looking up at the older man who had just returned from speaking with one of the doctors. "Would it be possible... to walk around the hospital a bit more? Just to see it?"

Greg looked at him with a mixture of concern and reluctance. "Nathaniel, you're still recovering. You need rest."

"I know," Nathaniel replied, trying to keep the desperation out of his voice. "But I need to get out of this room, even if just for a little while. Please, Greg."

Greg sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he considered the request. Nathaniel could see the hesitation in his eyes, the conflict between wanting to keep him safe and understanding the young man's need for some semblance of freedom.

Finally, Greg nodded. "Alright, but only for a short while, and the guards will stay close. I can't let you out of their sight."

Nathaniel's heart leaped in his chest, and he nodded eagerly. "Thank you, Greg. I won't cause any trouble, I promise."

Greg gave him a small, sad smile before helping him out of bed once more. The two bodyguards, still as impassive as ever, fell into step behind them as Greg led Nathaniel out of the room and into the hallway.

As they walked through the corridors, Nathaniel soaked in every detail, marveling at the bustling activity around him. The hospital was a microcosm of life, so different from the static, controlled environment of his father's mansion. Here, people moved with purpose, driven by a need to help others. The smell of antiseptic lingered in the air, mingling with the faint aroma of hospital food. Nurses chatted in low voices as they passed, pushing carts filled with medical supplies.

Nathaniel was fascinated by everything he saw, from the way the nurses interacted with patients to the intricate machines that hummed softly in the background. It was a world of technology and efficiency, and he couldn't help but feel a strange sense of wonder at the sheer scale of it all.

After a while, Greg noticed Nathaniel's interest in the various rooms they passed, each one filled with equipment Nathaniel had never seen before. His curiosity was palpable, his eyes wide with amazement as they approached a room with a television playing softly in the corner.

Nathaniel paused, staring at the screen as colorful images flickered across it. He had read about televisions, of course, but had never actually seen one in use. The moving pictures, the sounds, the way it captured a moment and replayed it over and over—it was mesmerizing.

"What is that?" Nathaniel asked, his voice tinged with awe as he pointed at the TV.

Greg smiled faintly. "That's a television, Nathaniel. It's... a form of entertainment and information. People use it to watch shows, movies, news, and many other things."

Nathaniel nodded, absorbing the information. It was incredible to him, this device that could bring stories and information to life in such a vivid, dynamic way. The realization that he had never experienced something so common to others made him feel a pang of sadness for the sheltered life he had led.

After a while, Greg suggested they return to Nathaniel's room. Though reluctant, Nathaniel agreed, his energy already waning from the exertion. Back in his room, dinner was waiting for him—simple hospital fare, but it was comforting in its own way. He ate in silence, still turning over the day's experiences in his mind.

When he had finished, Greg surprised him by bringing in a small portable television. "I thought you might like to watch something," Greg said, setting it up on a stand near Nathaniel's bed. "I'll show you how to use it."

Nathaniel's eyes lit up with excitement as Greg handed him the remote and explained the basics of operating the device. For the next hour, Nathaniel flipped through channels, marveling at the variety of programs available. There were news broadcasts, game shows, cartoons, and even music videos. Each channel was like opening a new door to a world he had never known existed.

He eventually settled on a documentary about wildlife, fascinated by the images of animals roaming freely in the wild, so different from the world he was used to. It was like being transported to another place, far away from the confines of his reality.

The evening wore on, and just as Nathaniel was beginning to nod off, the door to his room opened, and his father stepped inside. The atmosphere in the room changed instantly, the tension thickening like a dark cloud.

"Father," Nathaniel greeted him cautiously, sitting up straighter in bed.

His father nodded curtly, his eyes scanning the room before landing on the television. "I see you've been keeping yourself entertained," he remarked, his tone neutral but with an edge that made Nathaniel wary.

"Yes," Nathaniel replied, his voice quiet. "Greg thought it might help pass the time."

His father walked over to the TV, switching it off with a flick of his wrist. The screen went dark, and the room plunged into silence. He turned to face Nathaniel, his expression as stern as ever.

"You seem to be recovering well," his father observed, though his voice lacked warmth. "But I hope you realize that we still have unfinished business."

Nathaniel swallowed hard, feeling the familiar anxiety bubble up within him. He knew exactly what his father meant—he hadn't forgotten the interrogation, the demands for information about the girl he had been sneaking out to meet.

"I do," Nathaniel replied, keeping his voice steady. "But you said you would wait until I'm fully recovered."

His father's eyes narrowed, but he nodded. "I did, and I will. But don't mistake my patience for leniency. Once you're back on your feet, I expect answers, Nathaniel."

Nathaniel nodded, though he could feel the weight of his father's words pressing down on him. The reprieve was temporary, and he knew that once he was well again, the questioning would resume, likely with even more intensity.

His father lingered for a moment longer, as if assessing whether Nathaniel was being truthful. Finally, he turned to leave, pausing at the door. "Rest, Nathaniel. You'll need your strength."

With that, he was gone, the door closing softly behind him. Nathaniel let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding, his heart pounding in his chest.

The encounter had left him shaken, but he was determined to stay strong. He couldn't let his father break him, not now, not when he had so much to lose. As he lay back against the pillows, his thoughts drifted back to Adaliya, to the dream he had of their life together. It was the only thing that gave him hope, the one bright spot in the darkness that surrounded him.

And no matter what his father did, no matter how much he tried to control him, Nathaniel knew he would hold on to that hope with everything he had. Because Adaliya was worth it—she was worth all the pain, all the fear, and all the uncertainty.

As the night deepened, Nathaniel fell into a restless sleep, his mind filled with images of the world beyond the mansion walls—a world he was only just beginning to understand.