Mangled (A NateWantsToBattle/NateMare story)

Ten

The next day, I was released from the hospital. Nate had to stay there an extra day before they transferred him over to a major psychiatric hospital outside of town.

But the day before he was transferred, I went and gave him a visit.

There were the usual officers standing outside of the room to make sure he wasn't doing anything to himself. But as my Dad and I saw the two of them, they didn't seem as on-edge as before. They were actually relaxed, as if they were slacking on the job, but we knew they weren't.

"How has he been?" My Dad asked one of the officers.
"He's been really calm, sir." One of the officers explained. "It surprised us, especially after he witnessed his friend die right in front of him."
"I feel like he'll be breaking at some point though." The other officer stated. "Especially once we transfer him over."
"Well, whatever happens, just stay on guard." Dad responded.

The two officers nodded and I made my way inside of the room. Dad came in with me, but stayed hidden because he knows Nate isn't really fond of him.

I walked over and sat down in the chair next to Nate's bed. He was looking down and writing lyrics in his journal. I took a peek over to see what he was writing.

Voice in my head said to keep on going...

Suddenly, he jumped and closed the book as he was startled to see me.

"I-I'm sorry..." I said, "I didn't mean to scare you."
"I'm surprised your here." Nate responded. "I would think that you'd want to be out of here as soon as possible."
"I felt the need to see you." I responded.
"Why?" Nate asked. "To apologize for my loss and to feel sorry for me?"
"Nate, I know how much Mat meant to you." I responded. "And, I felt like I had some sort of friendly connection with him too..."

Nate didn't say anything. It looked like he was going to unleash fury on me again, but almost instantly, that feeling went away as he quickly went back to writing in his journal.

"That journal really helps you, doesn't it?" I asked.
"This is the only other thing that helps me keep myself calm." Nate explained. "If this journal were to also be taken from me, I would probably go insane..."
"My Dad and I saw some of what you wrote in that journal, as he was giving it to you here." I explained. "With what you wrote, you could become a musician, maybe even famous."
"I probably could..." Nate responded. "But with my behaviors, it probably will never happen."
"You never know." I told him. "If you keep focusing and fight through your battles without physically causing a fight, you may be able to."
"You think so?" Nate asked.
"It's possible." I responded.

Nate then continued to write in his journal. This time, he let me see what he was fully writing.

Voice in my head said to keep on going
Don't let them see you bleed don't want your weakness showing
Need you to see me
If you could just believe me

I smiled. For some reason, those lyrics he wrote seemed amazing. It was also so much different than what he was writing before. It seemed more enthusiastic and happy. Everything else he wrote was more dark and scary.

He then looked over to me and smiled. He was actually smiling. Not a menacing, evil smile or a fake smile, it was all real.

"These are all just choruses." He told me. "I need to come up with some more lyrics in the future to fully finish all of these songs."
"Just take one step at a time, Nate." I assured him. "You're doing amazing."
---
The rest of my visit with Nate was quiet and calm. I just sat there and watched him write more lyrics down.

After about an hour, my Dad motioned me over to him. It was time for me to leave.

"Listen, Nate, I need to get going." I told him.
"Okay..." He said, kind of upset.

I smirked at him and he smiled back. He then wrapped his arms around me and embraced me in a hug. It was soft and gentle.

I then hugged him back as I whispered in his ear.

"Good luck..." I said to him.
"Thank you." He responded.

We then let go of each other and I began walking out of the room. I looked at him one last time and gave him a wave before leaving the room, with my Dad who came out from hiding.

"That went a little too well..." He told me.
"He's changing, Dad." I told him.
"Do you really think so?" He asked.
"I know so..." I responded.

I knew that this could possibly become a new and much more positive chapter in his life.

Mat was probably right, this whole entire thing could change him.