Nathaniel

Chapter 1 [Edited]

Authors note:
This is it! The start of the revamp of Nathaniel! Here comes longer chapters, more scenes and more romance!

Hope you all enjoy reading the new version of my book and new readers- hello! Welcome! I hope you like reading as much as I enjoy writing it!

Don't worry, the plot and character names won't change so you can still continue reading if you wish, whilst I work my way through rewriting.

Thank you! And on with the story!

❤️💜

Nate

"Nate! Your mum's here!"

This was the moment I'd been dreading since the early hours of the morning. Tossing and turning all night long and throwing the quilt on the floor with my legs, I couldn't get the arrival of my mother out of my mind. It was weighing me down and keeping my mind running on overdrive. Will she have changed- even just a little? Can we even  go one day without fighting?
At three in the morning I'd ended up going downstairs for a glass of water, but my hands shook so much that the glass shattered on the floor at my feet. I was barely holding it together. She was rotting my mind and I didn't even live there anymore.

It had been months since I had last seen my family and I was desperate for today to go well. I missed my dad and my brother like hell, but my mother and I, we butted heads more often than not. She was a bull and I was her red scarf.
I've been dreaming about my mum and I's relationship improving for years now, but realistically, I can't see this happening. That ship had sailed a long time ago. Ever since the day she dropped me off outside this care home's door, we lost the connection a son has with their mother. 11 year old, 12 year old, 13 year old- hell- even 14 year old me pined for my family for years. Every night for the first year, I cried myself to sleep before I learnt to toughen up. She wasn't coming back for me. That chapter of my life was over. I was 15 now. If things hadn't already changed, they weren't going to.

I took one last look in the bathroom mirror; brushing my fingers through my scruffy hair so that all the deep brown tufts lay flat on my forehead;  I pulled down the sleeves of the band t-shirt I was wearing so that they covered the tattoos on my arms and I took a shaky breath in to calm my nerves: I had to keep up this facade in front of my mum. She'd hate who I actually was- not that she doesn't hate me already. That's how I ended up in this dump in the first place.

It didn't quite feel right wearing these clothes. I wasn't comfortable without my leather jacket, ripped jeans or coal black combat boots. Every time my mum came to visit I had to change myself so that I wouldn't face the wrath of the charging bull. I was fed up of it but fighting back would only cause me more pain.

"Nate! Hurry up! I need the toilet!" One of the other boys that lived in care with me, banged on the other side of the door.
"Give me a damn minute!"
"I've given you twenty damn minutes!" I chuckled at the boy's light hearted banter before  splashing some water on my face and leaving the bathroom. "Thank god. It only took you 20 minutes and 39 seconds today. I think that's a new record!" He laughed but quickly shut up when he saw my face. "Oh, it's today isn't it?" The boy's eyes widened in realisation, "Do me a favour yeah, if she tries anything, lay one into her. She deserves a taste of her own medicine."
"Thanks George, but I'm just done with her shit already. Nothing I say to her will even come close to how I'm actually feeling. Now go use the toilet before you piss your pants."  I'd watched the poor dude stand there, bouncing slightly, to try and hold it in for the past minute. He didn't want me to take the mick out of him for the rest of his life.
"Good luck soldier." George tipped an invisible hat to me before slamming the bathroom door in my face.

"Nate! Did you hear me? Your mum is here."
"Yeah! Coming!" I called down the stairs and followed the sound down to the hallway.

"Good morning Nathaniel." My mum's punctuality and formality struck me as soon as I reached the bottom step.

It always took me aback when my mum would pick me up- she was always so formal and uptight.  This was different from me and my dad: and not just because she was British and we weren't.

"How are you mum?"
My mum was really, stunningly beautiful.
She had strikingly crystal-like blue eyes that stood out against her fiery red locks. She held herself, and me, to a high standard. She never left the house without ensuring that not one curl is out of place or any wrinkles in her pristine outfit removed.

But beauty is only skin deep. 

"I'm doing wonderful darling. I would be better had you been on time..." She looked down at her diamond encrusted watch. "We'd better leave now if we don't want to be late."
"Sure. See you later Rob." Rob smiled and walked us out to the car.
"Me and your mum filled out the paperwork already so there will be no need to do any when you get back." He grimaced at the thought of how the last dozen home visits had ended. "Be back here no later than 5. Have fun!"

With the final warning from Rob, I clambered into the passenger seat of the black BMW and we set of the the city of my late childhood.

Me and my mother sat in silence for a long time, as we got further and further away from Rob and my safe home. It was awkward, to say the least. She had the radio volume on so low that you could only just make out the music that was playing and we avoided all eye contact with each other. She was acting as if I wasn't even in the car.

Twiddling my thumbs in my lap for a few moments, trying to figure out what to say to break the tension, I ended up saying the first thing that came to mind.
"Can you tell me the story of how you and dad met?"
My mum turned her head towards me, confusion on her face as if she suddenly remembered she had a son in the car. She quickly moved her concentration back onto the road.
"Why? I've told you before."
"Just forget it then."  I faced away from my mothers glare and stared out the door window at the trees that lined the roadside. The tension was almost worse- nearly unbearable.
"Watch the attitude."
I rolled my eyes. "Sorry."
"...I met your father a year after I moved to America. Like you know, I moved so that I could get away from your grandparent's... traditional ways. But when I met your father, he was just so sweet that I fell in love with him almost instantly. And less than two years later, we had you."

We had been so happy in America. Our little family- my dad, my mum and me-  had such a nice home out on a sandy beach and we'd go for a walk along it every evening- usually flying a kite or playing a game of frisbee together. It was the happiest I'd seen my mum. They were the best days of my life.

But with a blink of an eye, everything changed.

One night (a night I remember well) mum had a phone call.

It was my grandma.

"It's your brother, Anna. He was taken into hospital last night after a car accident and... I'm so sorry Anna. He passed away this morning."

The cries that ensued that night, twisted my heart and wrenched my gut. There was no consoling her. I was only 5 but hearing your mum cry like that... there's nothing like it.  She sobbed her heart out all night until she eventually fell asleep from exhaustion.
That week, the decision had been made that we would leave our life behind and pick up sticks to England so that mum could be close to her parents.

My life changed in more ways than one thst week. Being in the company of her parents, my mum became the rigid and 'perfect' person she is today. Not even the birth of my little brother Lewis could break the evil spell that looms over the person that used to be my mum.

Nothing can break my mum's trance.