The Hidden feeling.

Chapter 1

Ok hi! So this is the first thing I've written on here. I hope u like it.

    Have you ever felt lost? Not like, I can’t find my car in the dark lost, but the lost that you don’t know who you are anymore? The lost that can make you feel so scrambled and almost empty that you can’t sleep at night? That you’re tired of thinking ‘who am I’ but it’s the only thing that comes back to your brain? 

Well… I have. 

I have felt like a robot. It doesn’t really have emotions, it just walks around doing everything in routine, but doesn’t give any thought of what it’s doing. I’ve felt every emotion at once, or just one at a time. I’ve felt a lot of things, and have to keep them stored away in boxes in my brain. But the boxes keep falling off the shelves and I have to heave them back to where they were put. I want to forget they’re there, but every time they fall I automatically think about it again. It’s an endless cycle that I wish would just stop.

Stop!
Stop!
Stop!

You see, I come from a conservative family. We don’t talk about our emotions. We live day-by-day… like robots. We sit, we pray, we eat, we sleep. We think and never really talk about feelings. I mean I talk to my brother and sisters, but it’s not really where I pour my feelings out. The biggest thing that’s happened in my family, was the time my sister Jenny had a secret boyfriend, and my parents found out. That was terrifying. What are they gonna do when they find out my secret?

I’ve always been jealous of Jenny. I always have wanted to be like her. She has s dirty-blonde hair that goes down to her waist. She’s rather short for a high school senior, but is taller than mom at least.  She was beautiful in every way. On the outside at least. Inside she was like a rock. Careless about everyone. Always breaking rules, but not caring about the consequences. She’s rebellious. I always kind of wished I could be like her. I prayed that God would give me the courage to tell my parents. To tell them what’s wrong. To say that they’re choices in life have made me feel bad. Like I’m a bad person, when apparently God makes me the person I am. 

Why?
Why?
Why?

Why, would God make me someone who is frowned upon? What’s up with that? 
What did I do?
“Nicky!” My mom called as I sat in the bay window in the kitchen looking out at the crisp November afternoon. It was chilly out and I could see the slight frost in the air. The sun was setting and it was so peaceful, I wished I could be out there playing in the leaves, and losing track of time.

Thanksgiving was coming up, my family’s favorite holiday, minus Christmas, of course. It’s the day we get to Thank God for the meal he put on the table, when I watched the whole family cook it together. I didn’t see God, pulling the Turkey out of the oven. Or watch him make the pumpkin pie. I did most of that.

“Nicholas!” I look around to see my mom with a puzzled expression on her face, as if she’s been asking me for a while.

“I’m sorry. I’m just thinking.” I reply as I start to walk over to the sink.

“About what, may I ask?” She replied as if she kind of cared. She gave me that look that parents give to their children, when they’ve never seen their kid upset before. Obviously, she knew something was troubling me.

“It’s nothing I guess.” I replied as I hastily started to dry the dishes left by the sink after my sister Emma had washed them.

“Then hurry up.” She says, not taking a moment to think that I could be keeping something from her. “I want you to start to prepare dinner, I have to pick Seth and Jenny up from baseball and I would like it if you helped out the family.”