There are times in every human's life where their minds mature onto the next stage. Baby to toddler, toddler to child, child to teenager, and so on. Our minds reach a milestone some time along the way (usually birthdays spur this change), and we grow a little more mature. A little older. A little wiser.

But there are some cases in which an event, like the death of a family member can cause several milestones to be skipped in ones life. The child's mind matures too quickly. These skips may also be triggered by a traumatic event in the child's life, and may be something as trivial as seeing a questionable scene from a movie.

Nathan C. Explosion was one of these cases.

Sirens were howling through the torrential wind and rain in Tallahassee Florida. It was 1979, and hurricane Frederick was heading up the Gulf of Mexico, preparing to make landfall in Alabama. The residents of the west coast of Florida had been ordered to evacuate for safety precautions, but some families had stayed. The hurricane itself was nearer to the center of the gulf than it was the Florida coast anyway, and for Rose and Oscar Explosion, that was a risk they were willing to take. Even with their two-year-old son just old enough to walk.

"Oscar. Oscar!" Rose called to her husband as she placed two flashlights into the broom closet, next to a small pile of baby clothes and a few bags of dry food with water. Further back lay blankets and adult's clothing for the couple.

"Oscar!" the brunette shouted, scurrying to their bedroom where she knew he would be. She only hoped to God that he had their little boy.

"What? Rose, I told you to get everything together for taking shelter. What do you wa--" When the woman saw that her blond husband did not hold their very green eyed baby in his strong, sheriff arms, she lost it.

"Where's Nathan?!" It wasn't even a question at this point. More of a terrified screech.

Oscar's eyes widened for a split second before he went into search mode, berating his wife for not keeping an eye on his son like every woman should do. Rose, on the other hand told him to shut up and help her actually look for their baby that he was supposed to be watching while she put together their hurricane kit. With anger spouting from their lips as the checked the house, the finally found their child perched in front of the back door, tiny palms bracing him against the glass panes.

"Oh my God, there you are! Nathan, what are you doing here, sweetie?" Rose was about to sweep her child up into her arms when she saw what her little boy was so fixated on. Just outside lay their black cat Josie, soaked to the bone with rain. Her eyes were wide open and filled with fear.

Little Josie was bleeding from her open maw, and from the wound newly made by a large splinter of wood that had been shot through her side. The young cat lay in a pool of her own entrails, her body twisting in an awkward way that allowed the fragment of wood to sit upright without sparing her poor legs any remorse, the way her legs were bent almost backwards. It was truly a horrible sight for the little boy to behold. Josie had been his cat, really, and to see his one and only playmate unmoving there on the cold, wet ground.

Little Josie was dead.

Rose gathered her child up in her arms, turning Nathan's face away from the guesome sight before them. His green eyes seemed to search hers for an answer for Josie's stillness, the answer to why the splinter went through his cat. His mother could only pray that her baby hadn't seen it happen as she rocked him carefully, trying to make him forget. A distraction.

Unfortunately, little Nathan had seen Josie try to claw her way inside, fail, and then gurgle her last bloody breath as she held her gaze with the two year old.

'Why did you let me die?'

Hurricane Fredrick ended up killing not only Josie, but it killed Nathan's innocence then and there.

Such a relatively small death, but even the simplest things can break a spirit. Can fuck up a mind.

"Hey! Boy! I'm talking to you!" Oscar Explosion's voice boomed as he snapped his meaty fingers in front of his son's face, taking his jaw firmly in his grasp.

"Are you fucking listening to me?!" The blond patrolman jerked Nathan's chin towards him, trying to look his son in the eye. Identical green eyes met in a deadly glare as Oscar's grip tightened. Nathan squirmed in his father's grasp, tears coming to his angry eyes.

"Talk, you little bastard!" Nathan's nose wrinkled from the wretched smell of beer on his father's breath as nails dug into his pale skin. A drunk Oscar was an angry Oscar, and considering he was drunk most of the time he was home... It created a very dangerous atmosphere for the traumatized boy. Created even more hate within his heart.

But four-year-old Nathan would not give in.

"Oscar! Rose screamed, throwing her husband away from her raven-haired child, protecting him with her body.

"What the hell do you think you're doing to my baby?!"

"The kid's a fucking retard! He doesn't talk! He won't obey me! And he keeps drawing these fucked up little pictures!" Oscar growled at his wife, pointing to the drawings littered across Nathan's bed. They were all variations of a boy standing in the middle of pools of dead bodies with a poorly scribbled cat by his side.

Rose refused to look at them. Yes, she had already seen them, but she would really see them for what they were: Disturbingly violent and hate-filled pictures drawn by her one and only son.

"Don't say that about Nathan!" she cried, bringing her little boy to her chest. "Get out! Get out of the room now!" And then a thick hand collided with her cheek in a sharp smack.

With that, Oscar Explosion left the room, leaving Rose with Nathan curled up emotionless near his mother. She tried her best to keep her tears to herself as she rocked the unresponsive Nathan in her arms, but it just hurt too much.

"It's alright, Nathan..." His small hands trembled for a moment, before he stilled them, silent tears rolling down his reddened cheeks.

"We're okay. Daddy's just a little angry. He didn't mean anything he said." She kissed the top of his head albeit she was shaking. Rose looked down at Nathan, her beautiful, dark, traumatized child and asked him the same question Oscar had been screaming at him, though she put it in a kinder, more worried manner.

"Why won't you talk, baby..?"

It had been a year since Mr. Explosion had last tried to get his son to talk, and had finally accepted the fact (which really wasn't fact in the first place) that his son was Autistic. His son was a goddamn retard! There was no other explanation, not that he bothered to look for one like Rose did. That woman was always searching for a way around the inevitable... God, just thinking about her excessive optimism gave Oscar a headache. He grumbled, cracking open a new beer only to guzzle it down immediately afterword. He slumped on the couch and turned the volume up on the television. Today was his day off, and he would spend it on his ass watching football.

Nathan, too, was finding out that his mother's optimism was beginning to wear on him whenever she was around. Ugh.

Today was even more of that optimism shining through. It was his first day of school.

"Nathan, honey! Hurry up, or you'll be late for the bus!" Rose was scurrying around the kitchen, trying to finish her son's lunch, stuffing it in his cheery green backpack hurriedly. Nathan, however, had better things to be doing than getting ready to go to some dumb school with other dumb kids.

Curled up in the corner of his closet he sat, a little orange fluff-ball nestled comfortably in his lap. The five-year-old had befriended a stray kitten, and was now keeping him in the safety of his dimly lit closet in fear of either one of his parents finding the little animal. Especially his dad. They would never let Nathan keep the kitten, but they didn't understand! Those two oafs would never understand the affection he felt for these animals. These smart, swift, all around fantastic--

"Nathan Chogan Explosion," She started, and he cringed when she used his middle name. He hated it. It meant Black Bird in some Native American language, apparently, but he still hated it. "Get out of that closet right-- is that a CAT?" Oh God, oh God, oh God he was in trouble. Seeing his mother's looming figure in the doorway sent shivers down his spine as he shook his head furiously. No! The startled little creature in his lap was not a cat! It was just a stuffed animal! Just go away, Nathan wished. Maybe if he wished hard enough, the little feline would become invisible and his mother would just walk away. But much to Nathan's disdain, the cat did not become invisible, and his mother continued yelling at him.

"I've been looking for you everywhere," she lied. "You're going to be late for the bus if you don't hurry up, so get your butt out of the closet and get that animal out of the house! You know your father hates cats." Rose reached for her son's arm to drag him out of the closet, but when she did, the red macerel tabby hissed and accidentally scratched Nathan's cheek with his tiny, needle-like claws and dashed out of the closet and out of Nathan's room.

The boy tried to scramble to his feet, letting out a cry of despair as he watched the cat dash away toward a sure death in the living room. Tiny beads of blood formed under the scratches on Nathans face, as he began running to try and save his little friend from his father, vaguely being able to hear his mother telling him to get that cat out of the house.

Angry tears flooded to his eyes as he reached the living room, only to hear a loud yowl and a hiss, followed by his father's angry, 'half-way to drunk-ville, and still trucking' voice.

"What is a god-damn cat doing in the house?!" His meaty hand lunged to the kitten as it tried to protect itself from harm by biting at the officer. Oscar Explosion was unfortunately made of steel. Nathan froze in the living room as he stared at his father in horror.

Oscar turned to his son, a dark glare on his features.

"... You bring this animal in here, boy..?" he asked slowly. Malignantly. Nathan just stood in place, his eyes wide with raw panic. The kitten mewled in Oscar's tightening grip, beginning to suffocate, and the sound echoed in the five-year-old's mind like shouting in a megaphone. It suddenly registered in his mind that Oscar was going to kill the kitten. He was going to crush it until its lungs collapsed and died.

"You know I hate cats. I hate these stupid animals..." And with a last convulsion of his fist, the orange feline let out a gurgled mew, and fell completely limp. In the background, the television was cheering loudly, having seen a touchdown from one of the teams, but Nathan was deaf to it. Oscar peered over his shoulder back at the TV, and became re-interested in the game and his beer that he had left in order to take care of the now-deceased annoyance in his hand.

"Here. Catch." the police officer tossed his son the dead kitten casually, and sat back down on his couch. Nathan dove to catch the poor thing, still dazed in all of his anger. "Go throw it away in the garbage, and get the hell out of here. You need to go to school to graduate and join the forces." At this point, Rose walked in, having missed the whole event completely. She had no idea what had just gone on, and was about to tell Nathan to grab his backpack and get to the front of the house, when her little boy snapped.

"... I hate you. I hate you. I fucking hate you!" Nathan screamed at his father, his voice ringing out completely coated in rancor. Rose's eyes went wide and her jaw dropped open in astonishment. She would have quickly scolded her son and chastised him for using such language in her house, if it weren't the first time her little baby had uttered a single word. Even Oscar's features showed nothing but complete surprise. His son's five-year-old voice was damn intimidating.

Rose moved to touch Nathan's shoulder, but he whipped around, tears streaming from his savage eyes.

"Don't touch me!" He roared, slapping her hand away harshly. Nathan ripped the backpack from his mother's arm and ran out the front door with the kitten cradled in his free hand. As fate would have it, the bus for school was just pulling up to his house, and the boy made a mad dash for it, nearly tripping on the steps up. He made it in, however, and the bus driver didn't hesitate to take off once Nathan had taken a seat far in the back. Alone.

By the time Rose was out the front door, the yellow bus had already begun down the street.

"Nathan..?" she whimpered, her eyes watering with tears at her son's hostile behaviour. She waited until the bus was visible no longer until she made her way inside to fold the laundry. At least her baby could finally talk...

- - -

On the bus, Nathan perched himself on the seat to lean against the window as he watched the dead kitten in his lap. Once or twice he stroked the orange tabby's cheek, wondering how long his fur would stay soft. He would never forgive his father for what he did to his friend. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Nathan was dying. His young soul, the innocence that was left was being torn apart slowly...

"Hi."

Nathan went rigid, and his eyes glanced up to meet a little blond girl, her curly locks bouncing as she sat down next to him without permission. The raven-haired boy scooted closer to the window and turned his back to her slightly.

"Is that your cat?" she smiled pointing to the tabby in his lap. She suddenly realized that it wasn't moving. "It's dead. Why are you carrying around a dead cat?" her nose wrinkled in the cutest way possible, making Nathan want to hurl. "That's kind of gross..." she sighed, scooting away from him just a little. She was annoying. And that red ribbon in her hair kept trying to lick at Nathan's face like the Devil's tongue.

"... My name's Misty." She told him without prompt. "What's yours?"

Maybe if he answered, she'd shut the hell up and go away... "Nathan." he responded darkly, stroking the kitten one last time. He looked out the window toward the approaching gray clouds and sighed. 'Figures...'

The bus pulled up to a stop at the school, letting the kids off of the bus one by one. Little Misty lead Nathan off of the vehicle and toward the school, but by the time she had actually reached the campus, the blond turned around and saw that the boy she had 'befriended' on the bus was no longer following her. He was nowhere in sight. But the bell was about to ring... So, she bounced away to her class, deciding to look for him later.

Nathan had run out behind the school where the trees were heavy to conceal himself from any teachers that might be crossing the campus at the moment, and slumped down underneath a tall oak. He was finally faced with the task of burying his feline companion after watching the beautiful rusty cat in his hands for almost two hours. The sky rumbled above his head as he sat on his knees before the oak tree, laying the kitten on his backpack for a moment while he dug a small grave for the creature. It took him another hour to actually bring himself to bury the tabby, kissing him on the forehead before he curled the small body into the hole, and swept the dirt back into place.

"I'm sorry..." He whispered, shutting his eyes in pain, before standing with his backpack to leave. Slowly, the little Blackbird rose to his feet and shuffled away from the grave out into the gloomy overcast.

After awhile, Nathan found himself on the playground in the back of the school, sitting down on the swing silently. He dropped his backpack to the ground, kicking it away from him as he rocked himself with his feet. Life was cruel. People were cruel. Nathan hated everyone.

He was only five years old, but he had fully grasped the evil of the world in the short time he had been here. All the violence, the loss, the hate, the sorrow... It burned its way into his mind and would never release him from its painfully realistic clasp. It was almost funny how just small things could spur this realization; The death of his feline comrades, the utter frustration from his father, and the complete optimism from his mother. The world was not a fairy-tale like the ones Rose would read to him some nights, in fact, it was more-so the complete opposite. There was no fairy god mother. Only a wrathful God, who Nathan was beginning to wonder at this tender age... If that higher power actually existed.

Lost in thought, Nathan didn't hear the bell ring for school to be let out, nor did he hear the approaching storm, or the little bouncing girl that had found him at last. He didn't come back to the real world until she spoke.

"Aren't you afraid, Nathan?" Misty asked, her red ribbon whipping behind her head in the rush of wind. Her blond locks curled around her cheeks as she stood infront of him, hoping to receive an answer.

"Aren't you afraid of the storm? It could kill you, you know." she could hear her mother yelling her name from the car not too far away, but she didn't turn to respond to her.

Nathan, however, did not answer her question. His eyes raised halfway, almost meeting hers, but fell short, staring off into the dark clouds on the horizon.

"Isn't your family coming for you, Nathan?" That girl was getting annoying. "Nathan?"

This time, Nathan raised himself from the swing to shove Misty violently away from him, sending her to the ground angrily. The blond looked up at her classmate, tears in her horrified eyes as she scrambled up to get away from him, crying as she ran to her mother's car. He sat himself back down on the swing, staring up at the sky as it started to rain, a stray drop landing on his thin lips.

"No." he whispered to himself, the rain coming down harder, now.

"The rain took my family."