Friends With a Greaser

Chapter 1

The room was dark, like a deep bottomless hole that no longer contained any hope just like the young man sitting in it. His hands shook like miniature earthquakes as he looked out the giant thousand dollar window of the million dollar mansion he was in. Even though he had a beautiful view of New York his eyes were glued to the small white envelope sitting on the table.

His tear stained navy blue eyes were haunted and his rusty orange hair was a mess as if he hadn't combed in years. He sat there on the fine leather couch playing with a golden chain that sat around his neck.

The letter had large cursive handwriting that wrote To My Dearest, Nic. Just seeing the words brought more tears to his eyes as his hands muffled another sob. The impact of losing his mother to leukaemia was large, it felt like a bullet wound to the heart.

The silence was eery in the room with the exception of the sobbing boy. Soon the sobs grew quiet as the boy caught a hold of his emotions and tried to calm himself down. He knew he needed to open the letter in this house, the last memory of her would be spent in the place where they spent the most time together.

Shakily, the boy reached forward as gingerly picked up the letter and turned it around to reveal a red wax stamp that his mother loved. He almost lost control of his emotions again as he thought of her smiling and showing him the stamp, but he recovered quickly be ripping open the envelope.

It was a letter. Nothing else, but a letter. His eyes slowly began to scan the paper wondering what his mother had to tell him.

~~~

To My Dear,

Nicholas Morrison

If you are reading this, it's probably because something has happened to me. I know this must be hard on you considering you are such a momma's boy! But my love, life will continue on and you will be just fine without me. I raised you for 17 years and your father will do the rest. Yes honey, your father, Caleb Matthews.

I know I've told you many things about him, and all are true, but it would make me very happy if you would go visit him at the address of 14th Avenue Canal Street, New Yorj. Please don't be bitter with him, he doesn't even know I had you.

Also Nicholas I just want you to know I love you with all my heart, and you are the best thing that has ever happened to me. Be safe, be happy and live every day to the best of your ability.

Love,

Your Mother.

~~~

Silent tears flowed down his cheeks as a sad smile appeared on his face. He loved his mother and her joking and her super cheesy quotes, but they always made him smile.

"Sir?" Someone called from behind him and Nic slowly turned his head to see who it was. A small blonde maid flinched as his eyes landed on her but quickly recovered. "I'm sorry for interrupting, but the family who are buying the house want to come check it out." She bowed her head slightly in respect.

Nicholas slowly stood, huffing slightly from his lack of food in the past couple days. He slowly straightened his white shirt and fixed his tie, it was his school uniform, or used to be anyways. He slowly folded the letter with shaky hands and lightly set it in his pocket, the address off it already memorized in his head.

"Thank you." He quietly nodded as she handed him a back pack full of his stuff that he'd requested to be packed up.

Nicholas quickly passed her and walked across the marble floor. Any sign of emotion had drained away from him as he went through the giant double doors. Outside a family stood talking to the seller of the house, they seemed excited about the house, but not the scraggly looking boy coming out of it.

"Whose that?" The mother asked, her eyes narrowing.

"Mommy is he homeless?" The little girl tugged on her mother's sleeve as she pointed wildly at the boy walking down the steps up to the mansion.

The sales men slowly lowered his voice. "That's Nicholas Morrison, his mother used to own this house before she passed away."

The mother's eyes seemed to soften as she watched the slouching boy walk to the yellow sunshine cab that awaited him. "Is he alright? Does he have somewhere to stay?"

"Well I don't particularly know, I just usually leave boys like those to social services," the salesmen motioned them toward the house. "Now come on, let's go see your new home!"

"Where to?" The cab driver stared at Nicholas through the mirror, awaiting an answer.

"New York, Canal Street, on 14th ave." He mumbled, his eyes glued to his house as the family made their way up the steps, invading his home. But it wasn't his anymore, it was theirs.

The car slowly began to move through night like a flash of light, speeding through the traffic filled city. Nicholas felt like he was in the car forever, thoughts had swamped his mind, so full that he barely heard the cab driver turn around to ask for his money. He slowly handed it over and got out of the car.

It took him a moment to realize where he was. It was the dark part of town, he slightly shuddered. He quickly sized up the old ratty apartment building in front of him. His father lived here? Slightly hoping he was at the wrong place.