Nathan

Tis Wednesday and the next snippet of Forgoten is here! This piece was written by your’s truly and I edited it to dirt several times lol Hope you enjoy!

Read the start of the Forgotten series.

And another Peter Crowley song because why not:

Bright, painful sunlight glanced off the compacted road of red dirt. Heat filled the air, stifling the sea breeze.

Nathan knelt in the gravel behind a barrel.

His heart beat out a pattern on the inside of his chest.

Why do I always get like this?

His scuffed boots scraped in the rocky gravel as he carefully shifted his weight to look out from behind the barrel. A tall youth wearing an ugly sneer was pacing a few feet from his hiding place, his coppery hair looking like fire in the intense sun.

A bead of sweat rolled down the side of Nathan’s face. His fingers trembled as he glanced behind him and then back at the youth.

Run?

No, he was a terrible runner.

Stay?

He would catch him for sure.

A heavy hand descended on his shoulder.

“Gotcha.”

Nathan shouted and jumped to his feet, only to be grabbed by the shoulders and lifted off the ground by the collar of his shirt.

The copper-haired youth leered down at him, his face mere inches from Nathan’s.

“Trying to avoid me?”

“Let me go, Ike,” Nathan hissed through gritted teeth.

Ike shook his head, lowering Nathan down but still holding his shirt. “You’re com’n with me.”

Nathan twisted, his feet flailing, but Ike tightened his grip and began to drag him out of the barrel yard. Nathan pried at his hands with sweaty fingers, scratching at his thick arms.

Ike shifted and threw him down into the dirt like a rag.

Nathan scrabbled with his feet in the gravel, struggling to get up. Ike grabbed his arm and drove a fist into his stomach.

Nathan groaned and bent over, sagging against a barrel. His breath caught in his lungs as stars filled his vision.

Ike stood over him. His shadow fell over Nathan, darkening the ground. His voice was venom-laced. “You’re always there to make things hard, aren’t you?”

Nathan looked up at his face and felt sweat dripping down the sides of his dirt-caked face. “Why?” he gasped.

Ike snarled. “All you need ever know is my fist. That clear, Berklad?” He tightened his hands.

Nathan winced and looked away.

“What’s this?”

Nathan opened his eyes to see Ike reach down and lift a thin, black chain off his neck. Ike looked at the jagged blue stone, his eyes glittering.

“Stop!” Nathan yelled, grabbing at the chain.

Ike grinned and yanked on the chain savagely. The chain dug into Nathan’s neck.

Nathan’s teeth ground against each other. This was not his to take. His fingers sunk into the gravel, the bits of rock dug into his skin.

His eyes snapped up to Ike’s.

He will not take this from me.

He threw the handful of dirt into Ike’s eyes, grasping the stone and sliding backward.

Ike reeled backward, rubbing his eyes, spouting a stream of curses.

Nathan dragged himself to his feet and ran.

* * *

Nathan ran down the street, his legs quivering. He glanced over his shoulder and almost ran into a man. Muttering hasty apologies, he skittered to side and went straight to one of the houses lining the side of the road.

Running up the steps to the front door, he slammed into the handle and flung the door open.

Stamping inside and slamming the door behind him. He paused, leaning against the cool wood as he filled his lungs with air.

He dropped his hands to rest, running his fingers over the familiar grain. He could feel the runes burnt into the pine. The familiar scent of his home.

Reaching up, he pulled the stone from his tunic and rubbed his fingers over its rough surface. No matter what, the stone always stayed cool. In sunlight, it was a rather dull, dusty blue, and one side was nicked and scratched with lines, but there was something about it.

Nathan had no idea how he got it.

It was something he had always had, and over the years, it had become a part of him.

It was something worth protecting.

Tucking it back into his shirt, he slunk to the kitchen to get water and wash his face. He peered around the kitchen door, then started to tiptoe across the creaking wooden boards toward the bucket of fresh water on the counter opposite the wall.

“Nathan?” His mother’s soft voice drifted from the adjoining room.

Nathan winced at the voice and froze mid-step.

Footsteps followed the voice. “What are you doing at home?” his mother asked behind him. Nathan did not look back. He dipped his hands in the water and splashed it onto his face.

His mother touched his shoulder and cupped her hands around his face, turning it to hers.

“Nathan!” she gasped.

He looked down and felt the dirty water trickling down the back of his neck.

She reached up and smoothed the wet hair from his face. Her lips pressed together in a thin line. “Who did it?”

Nathan pushed her hand away gently but forcefully. “I’m fine, ma.”

Her gray eyes softened. “Wash up,” she said. “Then head to the coopers. Your father expects you to work on the barrels up at our shop that you started last week.”

He nodded and turned back to the water.

“And Nathan?”

He looked back at her. “Yes?”

She smiled, but her eyes were still damp. “Don’t be afraid to fight back. You are brave, but you must believe it first.”

Nathan looked away.

Excited for more? Drop your thoughts in the comments below!

Above photo is copyright by Legend Fiction, to view their website, click on the photo or on the link. Legend Fiction