Being thought to be mentally ill and antisocial by your own parents isn't easy. Even if it is partly true. Being separated from the only person you really talk to isn't easy either. How long will it take for the flame to rejoin its star?
Okay, I'm not giving up on Compliments. I'm still working on it. This idea just popped up so I had to do it. And, sorry for OOC Natsu but his personality this way just fits the story line
Disclaimer: Fairy Tail belongs to Hiro Mashima. Got it?
Don't You Remember?
Chapter 1
"Alright, we're done with classes, go play," Mom said to me, eyeing the doodles on my sheet of homework. Even though all work was homework, Mom still called it "schoolwork." I snatched my materials from the kitchen table and scurried to my room to drop them off. As I threw the supplies onto my small desk I glanced at the digital clock sitting atop my wooden side table. Red lines formed the shapes of numbers on the clock, four minutes before 2:30. I rushed to the kitchen, grabbing the brownie from my mother's waiting hands without a word, and hurried outside.
I plopped onto the grass, the small blades flattening under my weight. I waited there for her, taking small bites of half of the chocolate dessert. After around five minutes, I watched impatiently as the golden crown of hair made its way up the hill. I grasped a post of my fence with one hand, the other holding the other half of the brownie. She stopped walking as she came upon the barrier separating us. Her smiling face peeked between the thin poles, and she thrust her expecting hand through the fence. I smiled and placed the dessert into her small hand. "Thank you!" she chirped before taking a bite from the sugary delicacy. I laughed as I wiped a crumb from her cheek and she blushed at the small gesture.
"So how was school?" She inquired and I scowled at the wretched words. "Boring. As usual," I replied and a harmonious laugh rolled from her lips. "Mom thinks I can't spell or anything, even though I always get good grades on my tests! I probably have a better vocabulary than her!" I boasted. Lucy rolled her eyes and took the last bite from the brownie. "How was your school day, Lucy?" I noticed she was hesitant about answering before she gingerly lifted a hand to trace a growing bruise on her left cheek. I flinched at the sight. How had I not noticed that before? "Wait here," I rushed out before running inside my one-story house. My sneakers skidded against the tile as I sprinted into the kitchen, Mom standing at the sink, eyeing my questionably. "Everything okay, Natsu?" she asked, concern laced through her words. I whipped my head her way for a split second, then rushed to the drawer that held the small Ziploc bags. Not bothering to notice my hands were stinging from the cold ice cubes, I dropped the solid water into its plastic prison.
I sprinted back outside as if my life depended on it. Lucy was waiting there, picking a few tulips that had strayed from my mother's garden. I handed her the bag of ice, and she took it with a grateful smile. That golden smile that meant everything to me. Yet for her, it was merely a jerk of her lips. "Thank you, Natsu. I'd better be getting back though, Mother is probably worrying about me," she said in her sweet voice, and I nodded in acknowledgement. "Bye, Luce. Have a good day tomorrow. And don't let any jerks punch you either, 'kay?" I growled the last part, but she just laughed and started walking away, clutching her flowers in one hand, and used her other hand to hold the bag of ice against her swollen cheek. What was she beat up for this time?
I prodded at the menacing green trees on my plate, a bored expression written across my face. "So how was your day, bud?" Dad asked, taking a gulp from his glass. "Fine," I replied, and continued to play with the vegetables lying helplessly on my porcelain plate. "Natsu, stop playing with your food, if you don't want them then put them with the leftovers," Mom scolded, jabbing her thumb to the direction of where the pan of food was sitting. So, I got up, pushed my chair in, and poured my vegetables into the pan, earning a glower from Mom. I plopped a piece of beef into my mouth before running upstairs to my bedroom. I also pretended not to hear my mother's exasperated sigh.
My parents took turns kissing my forehead and murmuring soft "goodnights" to me, and turned off my bedroom light. As soon as I heard the confirming shut of my parents' bedroom door, I slipped into the dark. Of course, I knew eavesdropping was a bad thing; I had been caught before and been lectured, but how could I resist when I knew they'd be talking about me? About my differences from other kids? About my small improvement on my social behavior?
Pressing an ear against the cold surface of the door, I heard soft murmurs, barely being about to make them out.
"Igneel, I just don't know what to do with him anymore! What if he grows up and barely speaks a word to anyone? How will he make his way through life if he doesn't show any manners?"
"Darling, give him time, he just doesn't understand things, is all. He'll be a fine boy when he grows up. Don't you have faith in him?"
"Of course I have faith in him it's just-I'm just worried for him!"
"I know, I know, we all are. We just have to be patient with him and make sure he understands everything."
Their conversation ended with a shaky breath from Mom, and I slunk back into my bed silently. I lay there, staring blankly at a dragon plush at the foot of my bed. Didn't understand? Did they think I didn't understand how to carry on a conversation? Did they think I didn't know about how to properly interact with other people? Why didn't my own parents understand me? Why couldn't they accept the fact that I just didn't want to talk?
The world can be a cruel place sometimes, I guess.
How do you like the first chapter? I have the whole story planned out so woo! And I can't wait to write more chapter to this story! Hope you enjoyed it~
