The day tragedy struck his family was the day Nathaniel McCoy decided he was never going to sing again.
Once a gifted singer, Nathaniel was now living an unwanted life. It does not help his father relocated their family to Alabama- a place Nathanie...
"Every time I see you, I see a part of you I have never seen before"
- Nathaniel's Lyric Journal
THE FIRST THING CARLOS AND I HEARD WAS THE SHOUTING
Then it was followed by the sound of something shattering. We turned to look at each other. Carlo's huffed with disappointment at the familiar noise of Mom and Dad were fighting once again.
"I'm out of here," Carlos muttered to himself.
He abruptly turned around and was going to walk out before I managed to quickly grab his arm. "Where are you going?"
"I am going out with my friends now. I can't stand this fucking place anymore," he grumbled angrily. He twisted his arm away from my tight grasp, and walked towards the emergency exit, shoving it wide open before leaving.
The sound of Dad shouting voice from the doorway made me debate whether it was best to go to Esteban. It seemed the best option to crash at my best friend's home rather than dealing with this. However, something felt off about Mom and Dad fighting. It was louder and angrier. Usually it was over something petty, but this was serious.
I mentally braced myself when I unlocked the door.
"I will never forgive you for this," was the first thing I heard from my mother from the kitchen. She hurriedly walked out, tears streaming down her cheeks. My dad followed behind, rubbing his temples.
"This is what is best for you," my father bellowed back.
My mother crouched towards the floor, crying in a ball with her hands clutched over her bald head. She has become more sensitive and sick lately because of the chemotherapy, but watching my father towering over Mom made me uneasy.
"How long were you going to keep this away from me?" she asked in a wobbly voice. She stood up, and staring my father down. I frowned at the comments, unsure about the situation. She clenched her fists and took a few shaky breathes.
I walked in.
"Hey leave her alone. Both of you leave each other alone. I don't think this is-"I began before I was cut off from my dad grabbing my arm, and dragging me out of the kitchen. I froze, allowing him to drag me down the hallway and understanding his abnormal behavior. In fact, I never seen him this angry or riled up since my mother's diagnosis and treatment.
"Stay in your room until we get this sorted out," my father rushed, opening my bedroom door and forcing me inside. My mother stormed behind him, yelling at him in Spanish.
"Don't hurt him," my mother shouted before continuing to curse in Spanish.
Before I could do anything else, Dad slammed the door on my face.
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