Hey everyone,
Here's another chapter for you! I wasn't planning on writing one this week, but inspiration struck, so here we are. Hope you enjoy it!
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But anyways, enjoy the chapter.
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Nate sat at his desk, a notebook open in front of him, scribbling down his thoughts. The heaviness he'd been feeling these past few days weighed on him. Anxiety mixed with stress over everything that had happened—it was taking its toll.
To clear his mind, he did what he did best: wrote. His emotions spilled out in rhyming lines, hoping it would ease the tension within.
It had been four days since he consumed blood for the first time, and the thought of it wouldn't leave him alone. Was it safe for him to be around Bella and Uncle Charlie now? What did this new reality mean for him?
Speaking of Bella, she hadn't been herself lately. She was distant, barely speaking to him, and when she did, it felt forced. Every time he tried to engage her in conversation, she either avoided him completely or gave half-hearted replies. It gnawed at him. Was she angry? Scared? Maybe it was him—had she noticed something?
His thoughts spun in too many directions for him to focus on writing. He needed to talk to someone, and despite his reluctance, maybe Anna was the right person.
Grabbing his phone, he glanced at the screen. Leah's name flashed across his contacts list.
He had tried calling her many times, but she hadn't answered. She was angry with him—he knew that much. But maybe this time would be different?
"Maybe?" Nate muttered to himself, hitting the call button. He listened to the familiar ringing, but after a few moments, it went to voicemail.
Sighing, he shook his head. "Guess not," he mumbled, scrolling through his contacts until he found Anna's name. Hesitating for a moment, he pressed the call button.
After a few rings, a familiar voice picked up. "Hello?"
"Hey, Anna, it's Nate," he said, feeling the hesitation in his voice.
"Oh, Nate! How are you?" Her tone was light and cheerful. "Sorry about the delay—I didn't recognize the number. I've been meaning to save it," she said with a laugh, and he could hear the sound of dishes clattering in the background.
"That's fine," he replied, unsure of how to approach what he needed to say. He hadn't exactly planned for this.
"So, I was wondering if..." He trailed off, the words stuck in his throat.
Anna must have sensed his hesitation. The noise in the background stopped. "Yes?" she asked, her tone more focused now.
"I was wondering if your offer still stands," Nate finally managed to say.
There was a pause, and then Anna responded, understanding dawning in her voice. "Absolutely. What time works for you? Or would you prefer to schedule for another day?"
"How about now?" Nate asked. He didn't have anything else planned, and he couldn't bear the thought of another restless day spent alone in his head.
"Now is perfect," she said brightly. "Come on over."
"Great. I'll be there in about twenty minutes," Nate said, glancing at the time.
"Perfect. I'll get some cookies and tea ready. See you soon." Her voice was warm, and the call ended with a sense of finality.
Nate set his phone down, staring at it for a moment, wondering if he'd made the right choice. But there was no time to dwell. He needed this.
He stood up, grabbed the black hoodie from his bed, and pulled it over his head. He also reached for the black cap on his nightstand before heading downstairs.
As he descended, Bella, who was sitting on the couch with a book, looked up. Their eyes met, and she immediately noticed the dark circles under his eyes.
"You going somewhere?" she asked, sounding awkward, as if she wasn't sure how to talk to him anymore.
"Yeah," Nate replied, glancing at the book she was holding. "I'm going to meet a friend. Will you be alright here?"
Bella nodded quickly. "Yeah, I'm going to Jacob's again, so..." She trailed off, still feeling the awkwardness between them, unsure how to act around her cousin.
Nate paused before reaching the door, something in him pushing against her strange behavior. He couldn't ignore it any longer.
"Did I do something?" His voice was blunt, his usual tact gone. He looked directly at her, his eyes filled with hurt. "You've been avoiding me, and I don't know why."
Bella's face immediately showed confusion, then realization. "Nate, no," she said, shaking her head. "You didn't do anything. I'm sorry if it felt that way."
"So, what is it then? If I didn't do anything, can you just tell me what's going on?" he asked, his voice softer but still tinged with frustration.
Bella stood up from the couch, crossing the room to stand in front of him, her arms wrapping around herself. She looked unsure, timid even.
"I've just been... going through something," she mumbled, avoiding his gaze at first. But when she looked up, the guilt was clear in her eyes. "I shouldn't have shut you out."
Nate sighed, feeling the weight lift slightly. "It's fine, just... next time, don't scare me like that. Tell me what's bothering you. Maybe I can help."
Bella gave him a small smile, grateful for his understanding. "I know. You're right. I'll try."
Seeing the hurt in her cousin's eyes just a moment ago, Bella felt guilty. Here she was, overthinking how to act around him just because she'd uncovered his secret, while Nate had done nothing wrong.
But in that moment, she realized the truth: nothing needed to change.
Nate was still Nate—her cousin, the one who always looked out for her like an older brother. Without saying a word, Bella closed the distance and wrapped her arms around him in a hug.
"Sorry," she whispered, her voice muffled against his shoulder. "I shouldn't have kept things to myself."
"It's okay," Nate said quietly. "Just talk to me next time."
When they finally pulled away, Nate smiled down at her. "Anyway, I've got to go. But we should hang out later. We haven't spent much time together."
Bella smiled, a bit more relaxed now. "Yeah, that sounds good."
Nate grabbed his keys from the rack and pointed at her playfully. "Don't forget."
She mirrored the gesture, pointing back at him. "Never."
With a chuckle, Nate said his goodbyes and left to meet Anna, feeling a bit lighter than before.
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Pulling up to the white house in the suburbs, Nate took a deep breath as he turned off the ignition, nerves creeping in as the weight of what he was about to do settled on him.
"Well, here goes nothing," he muttered, stepping out of the car and walking up to the porch. He glanced around, noticing for the first time how similar all the neighboring houses looked to Anna's. That struck him as oddly amusing.
As he reached the front door, he took one final deep breath, preparing to knock. But before he could, the door swung open, and Anna greeted him with a warm smile.
"Nate, how are you?" she asked, leaving him momentarily puzzled. He hadn't even heard her approaching the door. Had she been waiting on the other side the entire time?
Shaking off the thought, he gave her a small, awkward smile. "Not great, if I'm here, I guess," he admitted, then quickly realized how it sounded. "I'm sorry."
"No need for that, dear," Anna said, brushing it off. "Believe it or not, a lot of people don't like shrinks." She took his hand and gently pulled him inside, the sweet aroma of cookies filling the air.
"Come on in, don't be shy," she urged as Nate followed her into the living room, which looked just as it had during his last visit, except for a plate of cookies on the table.
He sat down on one of the couches, while Anna retrieved a thick notebook from a shelf and settled across from him. Nate's eyes wandered nervously around the room, his anxiety growing with every passing second.
"So," Anna said, catching his attention, her pen ready over the open notebook.
"So," he echoed, his nerves betraying him as she noticed the tension in his voice.
"Help yourself," she offered, gesturing to the cookies. Nate took one, biting into it, the rich flavor momentarily distracting him.
"They're good," he said shortly, placing the half-eaten cookie back on the tray, feeling a little more prepared to dive into what had brought him here.
"So, tell me, Nate, why did you call me this morning?" Anna asked, her pen poised to take notes.
Nate closed his eyes for a moment, trying to sort through his thoughts. Why had he called?
"Because I felt overwhelmed," he admitted, reopening his eyes to find Anna watching him with quiet understanding.
"And why is that?" she asked, folding her legs as Nate shifted in his seat, the only sound in the room being the soft ticking of a nearby clock.
He hesitated. Could opening up about his feelings really help? But he'd made the decision to call her, so he had to try.
"Because of everything," he began, his thoughts swirling. "It's like... it's like the world is against me. Nothing ever goes right." He paused, clearing his throat as painful memories resurfaced—each time he thought happiness was within reach, something would tear it away.
Anna quietly jotted down notes. Nate felt strangely uneasy watching her, as if each stroke of her pen was exposing something deeper than he wanted.
"Why do you believe the world is against you, Nathaniel?" she asked, using his full name for the first time.
"Because ever since I can remember, something bad would always happen just when I thought things were finally getting better." He began recounting his past—the divorce, his father's death, and moving to Gladwin with his mother. "I thought living with her would be good... but it turned out to be one of the worst things for a kid my age."
He leaned back on the couch, avoiding eye contact as his emotions began to well up. Anna stopped writing, listening intently.
"She was always on drugs, switching from one man to the next," he said, his voice thick with frustration. "I had to raise myself and make sure she was taken care of too."
Anna set her pen down, focusing fully on him. "There must have been positives, though. It's important to focus on those, Nate. Sometimes we let negative experiences overshadow the good."
Nate sighed, rubbing his forehead. Two positives immediately sprang to mind.
"Matthew," he said quietly, a small smile forming on his lips.
"Matthew?" Anna echoed, her pen ready again.
"My best friend. We met around the time I moved to Gladwin. He... he practically adopted me," Nate said, a flicker of fondness in his voice.
Anna smiled, recognizing the importance of this friendship. "It sounds like you had a good friend."
"The best," Nate agreed, though the weight of his darker thoughts still lingered beneath the surface. "Though he can be a bit loud sometimes," he added, making both of them chuckle lightly.
"And what else?" Anna prompted, sensing there was more.
Nate hesitated before finally answering. "Music."
Anna's face lit up with interest. "Oh? Do you like listening to music?"
Nate nodded. "And making it."
Anna's hand paused mid-note. "You write music too?"
"Yeah," he confirmed. "When I'm struggling to put things into words... I write it out. I rap."
"And how does that make you feel?" Anna asked, clearly intrigued.
"Free," Nate replied simply.
Anna leaned forward slightly. "Could you elaborate?"
"If something's bothering me and I can't talk about it... music lets me get it out. It's the only way I know how to deal with things sometimes," he admitted.
Anna nodded, understanding. "And it gives you clarity."
Nate nodded, the conversation allowing him to reveal more than he had anticipated.
After a moment of silence, Anna changed gears. "Alright, Nate. I think the first thing we need to address is how you feel about your parents' deaths."
Nate stiffened at the mention, his eyes darting around the room as the familiar panic set in. His breathing grew shallow, and sweat beaded on his forehead.
"Nate?" Anna's voice was soft but concerned. "We can stop if you need to."
He raised a hand, stopping her. "No... it's fine. We can continue."
Anna, watching him carefully, asked, "Do you think their deaths were your fault?"
Nate's ears began ringing as the image of his mother's body sprawled on the couch flashed before him. His breathing grew uneven, but he focused on a memory of a calming voice, a song that always soothed him.
Finally, he exhaled. "Yes," he admitted softly, the weight of his confession pressing on him.
"Nate, you need to understand something important," Anna said, leaning in as she closed her notebook. "Other people's decisions are not your fault. Your parents' choice of committing suicide.."
"No," Nate interrupted, shaking his head.
Anna, thinking Nate hadn't understood, clarified gently, "You can't control other people's choices, Nate. Blaming yourself for something beyond your control is pointless."
"No, that's not it," Nate interrupted, shaking his head. Anna's brows furrowed in confusion.
"What do you mean?" she asked, her voice uncertain.
"My father," Nate said, his voice tinged with frustration. "He didn't kill himself."
Anna blinked, confused. "What?"
Anna's heartbeat quickened ever so slightly, and Nate noticed it.
"He died in a car crash," Nate continued, frowning. "Why would you think he committed suicide?"
Anna, though outwardly calm, was visibly shaken. "Oh... of course. My mistake," she said quickly, standing up. "Would you look at the time? I have another client coming soon."
Nate stared at her in disbelief, confused by the sudden change in the atmosphere. "Wait... aren't you supposed to give me advice or something?" he asked, getting up.
"Yes, of course," Anna replied hastily. "We'll talk more in our next session. For now, you really have to go. I need to prepare the office."
Before he could protest further, Anna practically ushered him out of the house, shutting the door behind him.
Nate stood there, baffled. Listening to her racing heartbeat behind the door, he shook his head. "What the hell?"
He slowly made his way back to his car, replaying the strange encounter in his mind.
"What the hell?" he thought again, sinking into the passenger seat. Something about the way Anna had reacted didn't sit right with him.
Then, a wild idea began to form in his mind—one that seemed crazy, but still, an idea nonetheless.
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