Chances and Changes 4
Disclaimer: This is the fourth chapter of Chances and Changes. Even though there be will no sex during the first couple of chapters, I plan to include some juicier bits about consenting teens of the same gender and about the same age. If any of that is offensive to you, stop reading. If you are younger than 18 years old, or whatever the legal age is in the country you currently reside in, stop reading this now. Any similarities between this story and real people, places or events is entirely coincidental, since this is a completely fictional story.
This story was written by me, Chris, and the only site that has a license to host this story at this time is nifty.org. Should anyone wish to host this story on another website, contact me under <christheblizzard@gmail.com> and I will reply as soon as possible.
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Hey everyone, I’m Chris. This is the fourth chapter of Chances and Changes. To those of you that have read the first three chapters, I won’t bore with the same things over and over again, continue reading and enjoy! Whoever reads this first, shame on you, start a story at the start, will you! Criticism, feedback or comments to my story, as well as simple chit chat are always welcome! The e-mail address is christheblizzard@gmail.com. Please enjoy the fourth chapter of Chances and Changes!
Sincerely,
Chris
Chances and Changes 4
Nate had never realized how nerve-wracking it can be to stand before an audience! It had taken every ounce of willpower he possessed not to run out of the classroom screaming like a little girl. It had also been a very empowering moment. Once during his performance he had looked up and looked at Thomas. He had practically hung on his lips! After he was done he had taken a look around and realized that he had definitely impressed the entire class. Now he was wondering what he was doing, wandering into the dragon’s maw. Ms. Clementine had made it clear, that they needed to really get to know one another and that meant spending time together, visit each other’s houses and all of that. Almost right after his performance Thomas had sent him a text asking if it was okay to go to his place after school in a few days. Nate had agreed before even really thinking about it and now he was on his way to the student parking lot, where he would meet Thomas at his car. He was just hoping he wasn’t making a terrible mistake. If this was some kind of elaborate trick, Nate was about to run right into it. There was an entire spectrum of emotions running through Nate, like anger at Thomas, which was almost a constant when he thought of him, nervousness, and strangely hope.
“Hey there.” Thomas said when he saw Nate walking toward him.
“Hi.” Nate replied. He was trying to hide how nervous he was about going to Thomas’ place. The boys looked at one another rather awkwardly for a moment before Thomas opened the passenger side door and said “Take a seat.” Nate sat down and pulled the door closed behind. They drove in silence. Nate sometimes glanced at Thomas and thought the other wanted to say something, but he never did and Nate was still wrestling with what to think about all of this. When Thomas pulled up into the driveway of a huge two story villa Nate’s chin just about made a hole into his seat. The place looked amazing. Thomas knocked on the window of Nate’s door
“Stop staring and get inside.” He wore a smile on his face. Nate figured this was perhaps the first time Thomas had earnestly smiled at him and it hit him again how good he looked. Shaking himself out of his reverie, Nate got out and headed toward the entrance. When they got inside Thomas quickly toed of his shoes, and motioned for Nate to follow him. The entire house was decorated very nicely, it looked very classy, but at the same time comfortable. Nate and his father weren’t poor or anything, but this was beyond anything they could afford. Thomas’ own room was a little less impressive and intimidating than that. It was pretty big, and furnished much like the rest of the house, but there were clothes lying about, the walls were plastered with posters and the cables of gaming consoles made a tangled mess next to the TV. Nate’s eyes lit up when he saw an Xbox One and the Battlefield 4 case next to it, and Thomas apparently noticed, for he asked “You wanna play?” nodding toward it.
‘What are you doing?! This is Thomas, the guy that hates your guts! You’re not friends. Do the project and get out.’ “No.” Nate said, putting a neutral expression on his face and turning around toward the desk standing in another corner of the room. He took a seat, started taking out everything he would need for the project and asked “You coming or not?” in a voice that sounded harsher than he had meant to make it. Nate was getting kind of pissed now, though mostly at himself. He couldn’t get his hopes up only to be left standing empty handed again. Thomas gave him a frown then put his phone and wallet on the table and sat down, prompting Nate to scoot away a little, putting their distance at about two feet.
“What are you doing?” Thomas asked.
“Nothing, Evans.” Nate replied, once again sounding angry. He was trying his best not to be mad, but you couldn’t just shut down weeks of resentment with a thought.
“Would you please just call me Tom?” Thomas asked.
“Whatever you want, Tom” Nate answered with a sarcastic sneer.
Thomas let out an exasperated sigh “You’re not exactly making this easy, you know.”
“I’m not exactly trying to, either.” Nate delivered the line perfectly flatly. They looked eyes for a second and Nate almost wanted to apologize for being so harsh. Almost.
“Fine. Let’s just get started.” Thomas seemed resigned to his fate. “Okay, we’ll start with the questions Ms. C. prepared. ‘1. What’s your full name?’”
“Nathaniel Jackson Blythe. Yours?” Thomas answered after writing it down. “Thomas Matthew Evans.” He looked at Nate, who didn’t write anything down. “You not gonna take notes?”
“I can remember a name, Tom.”
That earned him another frown.
“2. How long have you been living here?”
“You saw me the day I registered in school. I moved here a few days before that.” Nate said. He thought for a moment, contemplating whether to ask Thomas the same question, but the both of them seemed to reach the same conclusion. These question weren’t telling either of them what they really wanted to know. Thomas was the first to speak again.
“I tried to find the song you played on the internet, but I couldn’t find it anywhere. And it didn’t help that you never told us who wrote it.”
“You won’t find it on the internet, because I haven’t uploaded it. I wrote the song.” Nate said.
“What?! No shit? That is amazing!” Thomas seemed to be seriously stumped at that.
“Where did you learn to play and sing like that? Not to mention songwriting.” Thomas seemed to be very excited. Nate wasn’t really sure what to think about that.
“My mother got me into it, the rest is self-taught.” Nate replied.
“Your Mom plays guitar, too?” Thomas was really getting into this whole interview thing
“She did.”
“Why did she stop?” He asked as he scribbled things down furiously, trying to keep up with the speed of their conversation
“She died.” That seemed to deflate Thomas and he stopped writing.
“I’m sorry.” He appeared to mean what he said, which surprised Nate. Another fact that surprised Nate, was that the question didn’t really bother him. Sure, it was painful to remember what had happened, but Thomas couldn’t be blamed for that.
“It’s okay really, you couldn’t know about it. She died three years ago.” Nate said, not feeling any anger this time.
“What happened?” Thomas asked and Nate thought there was almost concern in his voice, a genuine sympathy that hinted at a side of Thomas Nate hadn’t thought he had.
“I… that’s…” Nate was fishing for words but his mind was blank. He really hadn’t expected Thomas to ask that.
“Don’t answer. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked you something like that.” Tom frowned at himself.
“Let’s talk about that song again. What were the last words? I know you said something, or rather sang something, but it was too low to make out.”
“Oh, I’ll just send you the sheet-music later. I have it on my laptop back home. Then you can read all of it.” Nate said
“Alright.”
“Okay, now let me ask some questions. Your song was “Smells like teenspirit” by Nirvana, right?”
“Yup”
“How do you know it?” Nate wasn’t really sure what to ask about the song, so he figured if he knew some context to the where and when he first heard it, it might tell him something.
“I just heard it at a party last year. Nancy always throws a really wild party around November, because her parents always visit some of their relatives around that time, so she has the house to herself for a few days. It’s actually coming up again soon, you coming?”
“I’m not invited.” Nate’s voice regained some of his earlier anger.
Now it was Tom’s turn to stammer “I, uhm…” He looked decidedly uncomfortable. Nate knew he would be able to push now, but he decided it would be easier to just let the topic drop
“Forget it. So you heard the song on last year’s party. What was it like?”
“It was fun. I was a little drunk and when the song came on it was just one of those great moments, you know, the kind you remember.” Nate was taking notes now for the first time.
“I mention drinking and that’s the first thing you write down?” He asked with a raised eyebrow.
“Of course. I might have to act as a witness at some point and I want to get this part right and accurate.” Nate tried to say it flatly, but smirked at the end, making Thomas laugh loudly. It was an honest laugh, the first time he saw Thomas display an emotion other than hate that wasn’t scripted or expected of him. Nate found himself liking that laugh a lot then froze ‘Where did that come from?’ He tried to push thoughts like that to the back of his mind, but had a hard time dispelling the sweet lies his mind was whispering to him. Thomas was a very attractive person and it wasn’t only his looks, though he had plenty of that to go around. He just seemed so sure of himself and his place in society and it showed in his mannerisms, his body language and the way he spoke to people. There was just something natural about him that made you want to be around him. Nate had to remind himself time and time again, that this was a person that hated him, that he could not get invested into this whole mess, this project.
“You’re a real smartass, you know that, Nate?” Tom said, grinning a smile at him that was infectious and made his thoughts from earlier puff away like mist on a hot day.
“I’ve been told before.” Nate said and then continued in a mock lawyer’s voice
“Now that we have established underage drinking, is there anything else you might want to add to your testimony, Mr. Evans? A DUI maybe? Public urination?” When he adjusted invisible spectacles, Tom, who had been laughing before, gave a snort in laughter so energetic, Nate thought he might fall off his chair, though his own shoulders were shaking in a vain attempt at containing his amusement.
They didn’t get any more work done the following hour, telling each other funny stories, puns or making poor impressions of people. Though in a way they did work on the project, since they were getting to know each other, got to see what the other enjoyed doing from stories they told and how they told them. Suddenly Tom’s phone vibrated with a text. Since it was lying face up on the table between them, Nate could read its contents with just a glance, though Tom didn’t really seem to pay attention to it.
‘Charley: Yo man, U done with that fag yet? Can I come over or u need to disinfect your room now?’
‘That’s right.’ Nate thought ‘You’re the school fag, and don’t you forget it.’ His good mood vanished just as quickly as it had appeared. For a moment he had let himself indulge in the idea of a different life, simply leaving the old Nate behind and starting over new. Here, that wouldn’t be possible. He was the public enemy number one. His smile melted off his face and he started packing up his things.
“What are you doing?” Thomas asked surprisedly.
“It’s getting late. I’m gonna go home.”
“Uh, okay.” Thomas stood up and grabbed the keys to his car.
“Don’t bother. I can walk just fine.” Nate’s voice was steely and cold, his gaze hard. He was displaying a determination he didn’t feel though, for inside there was only emptiness. Why had he dared hope? He stalked out of the room and down the stairs.
“Nate, what’s going on? One moment you’re sitting there having a good time, the next you jump up and practically run away.” Thomas said as he gripped Nate’s arm. Nate turned around and gave him a stare that could have melted iron and frozen a river all at once.
“Do. Not. Touch me, Evans” Nate put all the loathing he could muster into his voice. This was nothing more than another opportunity to be disappointed, another opportunity to lose something. Well, you can’t lose what you don’t have. Thomas was no friend and he could never be, for he was the one that had made Nate’s experiences at this school as miserable as possible.
Nate shook off Thomas’ hand and continued moving. Thomas was trying to convince Nate to let him drive him but Nate simply ignored him and started running as soon as he was out of the house. Even with Nate’s fast pace it still took him about 40 minutes to get home, because the Evan’s residence was almost to the other side of town. When he got home his father was already there, sitting in the living room and watching TV.
“So, how did it go?” Nate had told his father about the project and also about him going to visit Thomas. Nate didn’t answer though and just said “Hey Dad, I’m gonna go to sleep.”
“What? It’s barely past 7. Are you hurt or anything?”
“No. I really don’t want to talk about it, okay Dad? See you in the morning.”
“Nate!”
But Nate was already bounding up the stairs and heading toward the shower. As the hot water soothed his strained muscles he was just wishing he could melt and wash away in it.
When Nate woke up the next day he felt different, like everything around him was muted and numbed. Still, he stood up, showered, got dressed and went downstairs for breakfast. He hardly spoke to his father in the morning, who seemed to be stressing out about something, but Nate just couldn’t find it in him to care right then. During school Nate hardly even said two words despite all the effort Sam put in, but Nate would only give uninvolved, single-word answers and she soon stopped trying. The next day went much the same and to Nate they seemed to bleed into one another almost seamlessly. Thomas tried talking to him on several occasions, but Nate simply ignored him. When Thomas started texting him that he was sorry for what Charley had written, Nate replied ‘Don’t worry about the project, I promised I would do it.’, but for some reason that seemed to make Thomas angry. Nate was aware that something was wrong with the way he acted and felt, but not even that seemed worth the effort. Why care? Whenever he started at himself, that was the question that popped into his mind, and he could find no answer.
Several days passed, with Nate still in this lethargic mindset and despite Sam’s best effort to engage Nate in some kind of activity, he didn’t feel like doing anything other than sleep. Aside from going to school Nate hardly ever left his room anymore and if his father weren’t bringing him food to his room, he would probably forget to eat altogether. His father had also told him, that he would be required to stay a night out of town, Friday to Saturday, because of some important business meeting or another. Nate only nodded uncaringly. He and Thomas had met one more time to work on their project, this time in the school’s library, but they hadn’t been very productive, so Nate had decided to leave. All the time during their meeting, Thomas had looked as if he wanted to say something, but he never did.
Nate was beginning to believe, that he could survive the rest of his time here that way, just moving on autopilot, picking the path of least resistance. After all, wasn’t feeling nothing better than feeling pain? But of course, things never went the way he thought they would. The day after he and Thomas had met up for the second time, Nate was on his way off the school grounds after class, when he suddenly found his path obstructed and when he looked up, saw Charley towering above and before him, blocking him from walking any further. Nate tried to maneuver around the other boy, but Charley stepped in Nate’s way.
“Where you hurrying like that, fag?” Charley asked with a mean sneer.
“Just let me go, Charley.” Nate said, voice still flat. “Or what?” Charley asked. This didn’t look good. When Nate took a look at his surroundings he noticed that he and Charley were alone next to the gymnasium. Charley grabbed Nate, but he managed to break free from the other boys grip and swing a fist at him. Nate should have run, but his mind was in panic-mode now, and he wasn’t thinking rationally. The punch landed, but since Nate was still off balance, it was only a weak hit. Charley was neither weak nor off balance, though, and when his fist collided with Nate’s face, he was momentarily dazed. Charley grabbed him again, and this time Nate’s feeble attempts at escape were fruitless, as Charley half dragged, half carried him into the gymnasium and further into one of the locker rooms. He gave Nate a painful shove that made him fall over and hit the ground hard.
“Now undress, you perverted freak.” Charley spoke in a commanding tone.
“What?” Nate was shocked by the other boy’s words and for the first time in days there was something in his voice other than apathy, terror. The question and failure to obey earned him a kick in the ribs from Charley.
“I told you to undress.”
“Please don’t do this Charley, I beg you.” Nate had tears in his eyes now. How many times did he have to be knocked to the ground, kicked, demeaned and embarrassed until it was finally over?
“You think I’m gonna fuck you? You wish, you stupid fag. Now take your clothes off.” He said even as he slapped Nate hard across the face, who had gotten on his knees. Before Charley could kick him again, Nate unbuttoned his pants and quickly pulled them off.
“Now your sweater and shirt.”
“Please don’t make me do that Charley, anything but that.” Another kick. And another. Finally Nate’s resistance broke and he pulled his sweater and the shirt underneath it off over his head in one motion. Nate was lying on the floor in only his boxers now and Charley could see them. He could see everything. When Nate looked up at him he could hear the sound of a cell phones camera.
“What the fuck, you freak?” Charley looked a little pale now. To Nate’s surprise he just turned on his heels and walked out of the locker room. Nate couldn’t shake off the shock. Charley had seen, seen all of it and TAKEN PICTURES. Tomorrow the whole school would know the entire story. As Nate was lying on the floor, crying he could feel something inside him break. No, more like it exploded, akin to a vase hit by a sledge hammer. Nate’s mind cleared and he suddenly knew what to do, finally knew the answer life had been pushing on him for three years now. He got to his feet after a moment and started to dress, luckily Charley had left his clothes when he had stormed out. Nate left the gym and quickly and quietly walked home. When he got there his father was gone already, and would only be back the next day and had left Nate some money, so he could order some food. Even though he should have felt scared or perhaps excited at the decision he had made only a short while before, he was strangely calm and felt… disconnected from the world and himself. He was also hungry, so around 7 he ordered some Italian food and ate it in front of the TV, watching some stupid cartoons. After he was done, he knew it was time. He went to his father’s liquor cabinet, picked the oldest scotch he could find and took swig of it. Despite the burning in his throat it didn’t taste too bad, so he decided it would do. His next stop was their medicine cabinet, where they always kept a stock of benzodiazepine, in case his nightmares got too bad. He took the full bottle of pills and went to his room. He started drinking the scotch, and since he had never drunk alcohol before, it didn’t take much to make him tipsy. As he sat there, contemplating his last evening, he felt the sudden need to talk. Not someone he knew, just… someone. He punched “hotline” and the town’s name into his phone and clicked the first number that turned up in the search. He neither knew nor cared what number it was.
Brian started his shift at the call center at 7:30. He had picked it up again after a yearlong break, back when he was 15 his sister Alice had gotten him into it. He had completed all the necessary training back then and after a single course he was deemed fit to start taking calls again.
After his rub in with Sam he had taken a hard look at himself and didn’t like what he found. It was hard to admit even to himself, but he had become a spoiled brat and a bully. He also found that that wasn't the person he wanted to grow up to be and he felt especially bad about the things that were happening to Nate, because he and Tom had played a key role in those events.
In an attempt at redeeming himself he had started taking up hours at the volunteer call center again. When he told Alice she had been somewhat reluctant and skeptical. She had said she wasn't sure if he should do that. She wanted him to explain what had brought on the change of heart and when he tried to give her some evasive answers she didn't buy them.
"You're an insensitive bully! What if you start treating a caller the way you do people at school, huh? Do you realize what could happen? So if you don't stop spewing BS and start telling me the truth, I’ll make sure you never get a shift there!"
He knew she was right and hearing her say it drove the point home quote sharply. He wanted to cry but didn't feel he deserved any consolation.
"I know, Alice. I'm an asshole and I hate myself for the way I hurt people. I want to change, but I don't even know where to start! I just want to do something to start making up for all the bullshit I did."
She looked at him sympathetically. They had been close once, but had drifted apart when he started hanging out more with Thomas and his crowd. They were fighting almost constantly now.
She hugged him and said "I'm glad you want to change Brian. I knew you were still there somewhere, hidden under a thick layer of douche." He laughed at that.
"But Brian, this won't be easy. Helping others is a good thing but it won't erase the past. At some point you will have to apologize to those you hurt and accept that some of them might hate you whatever you do or don't."
"I know, Aly. I just want to be able to look in the mirror and not hate the person staring back at me."
Usually everything was pretty quiet until about 9:30. Then the calls would start trickling in. It was mostly girls that called them, which was mirrored in the volunteers, but there were calls by boys almost every night he had been there too, and since most of them felt uncomfortable talking to a girl about their problems, afraid they would take the girls side in the conflict (most calls were about girl problems), they would ask for a boy to talk to. There were other male volunteers as well, but they tried to get different shifts, so there would always be at least one of them there. Most calls were harmless, a fight with parents about curfew, not having enough money to take a girl out on a date, stuff like that. Then there were the calls that gave Brian chills. He had never had someone like that on the phone, but the stories were always flitting about. He was always scared picking up the phone and being unable to help whoever was calling, or even worse, saying the wrong thing. What if someone killed himself while or after talking to him? He wasn't sure he could handle that. After two weeks of working, he had started getting back into routine. Most guys just wanted an older brother to talk to, someone who wouldn't judge and tell them it was going to be alright, and so that was what he did. The first caller was a guy that had taken his father’s car and made a scratch into it while parking. He tried to assure him, that while his father would likely get mad, he would be glad his son was safe and hadn't hurt himself in an accident, plus, a scratch could be covered up by a specialist quite easily and wasn't too expensive.
The next one had a guilty conscience, because he was dating two girls at the same time. When asked, he told Brian he hadn't had sex with either of them, so Brian told him to be honest to himself and to them and try to resolve the mess without seriously hurting anyone.
Then at eleven his nightmare finally happened. The phone rang and Brian picked it up.
"Hi, how can I help you?" Brian tried to sound upbeat but he had a bad feeling.
"Hey there" a familiar voice slurred. He couldn't place whose voice it was, but it was definitely someone he knew. Perhaps from school? The speaker was also definitely drunk, they had been told about the signs and symptoms of different substances, as well as how to deal with people under their influence.
"Is there something you want to talk about, buddy?"
"Call me Nate." A cold shiver rolled over Brian. This wasn't like his nightmares at all, this was worse. He tried to sound calm, but motioned to Mrs. Carlyle to come and listen in on the call when he asked "Nate, are you drunk?"
"Yeaaahhh, this is great" there was a gulping sound
"Nate, where are you right now?"
"Home" okay, at least he wasn't driving or anything.
"This is all gonna be over soon. I'm done with all of this bullshit." Another gulp.
Brian was close to panicking now.
"Nate, are you taking anything else?"
"Ben… Benzo… those pills I take when I can't sleep" he sounded very drowsy.
no no No No NO NO, this was bad, very bad.
"Nate, listen to me. You have to tell me your address, help is on the way, but they don't know where to go." Another gulp.
"I'm sleepy, I'm gonna lie down"
Brian yelled "No, Nate listen, please you have to tell me your address!" Silence.
‘Ok Brian, think, who knows Nate’s address’ Brian’s mind was going a million miles an hour, as he fished his phone from his pocket and scanned his contacts, but he couldn't find anyone who might know.
He kept muttering profanities at all these useless numbers cluttering his phone. Then he got to 's' and exclaimed "Thank God!" He had exchanged numbers with Sam earlier, so they could contact one another for the project. He called the number and looked at the clock hanging above his cubicle. The phone rang "c'mon, pick up, pick up, pick up the fucking phone!" it felt like an eternity passed between each ring.
“Just ignore the caller ID and pick up the damn phone!”
"Brian this --" a drowsy and disgruntled Sam answered the phone.
"Sam, this is important, so shut up and listen." Brian put all the command into his voice he could muster.
"You have to give me Nate’s address."
"What? Why?"
"JUST DO IT, DAMMIT!"
"Maple Avenue 36. Brian what's going on?" She must have heard the concern and urgency on his voice.
"I’ll explain when I pick you up, your place is on the way." He ended the call, grabbed his keys and sprinted out of the building toward his car. He had written down the address and his coworkers would know to call for an ambulance and tell them what happened.
Usually, getting to Sam’s place should have taken him about 15 minutes. He did it in 5.
When he pulled up she was already standing outside and waiting for him.
"What the hell is going on Brian? If this is some kind of prank, you don't want to know what I’ll do to you."
Despite the urgent situation he couldn't help but smile "I can imagine. I volunteer at the call center for troubled youths downtown. Today, about 15 minutes ago, Nate called there. He has taken sleeping pills and washed them down with alcohol. I needed his home address, so I could send an ambulance there." Sam was shocked. "What?"
"I know it’s a lot to take in, but we need to go there, now. Every minute can mean his life."
They drove in silence and although he tried to keep his foot under control, he was still driving quite a bit above the speed limit. When they got to his house the ambulance wasn't there yet.
"We have to get in" he looked at the door, which appeared sturdy and prepared to charge at it.
"Wait, there should be a key under that rock." she picked it up and almost dropped it back down again. Her hands were shaking badly. Brian took the key and rammed it into the hole, twisted and as the door clicked open, they rushed in.
"Second floor, second door on the left." Sam said, rushing after Brian. Hey pounded on the door, but it was locked. He took a step back and kicked with all the strength adrenalin would lend him. The wood around the lock shattered and splinters flew outward as the door slammed open. Nate was lying on his bed, one hand flung over his eyes, the other holding an empty bottle of scotch.
It hit them like bricks. This was their classmate. A little boy really, only 17 years old, but so hopeless he was killing himself. And Brian had helped push him there. On the nightstand next to his bed was a bottle of pills that was empty as well.
"What do we do?" Sam choked back a sob.
"We wait." Brian said as Sam took Nate in her arms and rocked him slightly. Brian went back out so he could show the paramedics where to go.
The drive to the hospital was nerve wracking. Both Sam and Brian drove in the back of the vehicle along with Nate. Brian explained what had happened and showed them the pill bottle he had found on Nate’s nightstand. It was powerful stuff, subscription medication. They gave him something to try and stabilize him but said his blood pressure was low and his breathing shallow. Sam held his hand the entire time, crying softly and Brian was trying to calm down, but tears were stinging his eyes as well. He had never been a religious person, but for the first time in his life he found himself praying.
Chapter 4 END
Chris’ Babble
ARGH, I want to kick myself! I reread the third chapter to remember all the details of what happened so far and I noticed I made a TERRIBLE mistake. I had this really nice phrase prepared about the first part of Nate’s song. I wrote “… It was a life worth living” or something like that. What I really wanted to write was “… It was a life lived in the key of C”. I think it sounds really cool and it would have fit so nicely, with music describing that life and everything. Instead I wrote something rather bland. So there, that was bad. Maybe I will write it in and beg the nifty people at nifty to switch out the files.
So what is there to say about this chapter? I have never suffered from true clinical depression before, but my brother has and I have talked to him about it a lot. I hope I managed to convey some of what that feels like in the way Nate is feeling. I just hope it doesn’t seem pretentious of me to assume I can portray something like that without having experienced it myself. :/ If you have any comments on that, please shoot me an e-mail! Please don’t be offended if that failed miserably. I in no way want to demean the experiences of people that live through that. I just hope I can make it justice. Also, I am in no way a medical expert, and I tried to look up the symptoms of overdosing on sleeping pills and alcohol, but most sources I could find said that mostly the effects vary strongly from person to person and that it was hard to make any solid assumptions. So, I kind of made something up. If you are a doctor and reading this, I hope I'm not making you cringe too hard. :D
I told you before, that I have a plan with Brian, and here it is. I really don’t want characters to seem one dimensional. Brian did bad things, but he is not truly a bad person! Charley is doing horrible things to Nate, but all of them are just teenagers trying to live through high school. I think terrible decision making is a part of youth, much as being a dick to people that don’t deserve it. I just hope they all get their moment of growth, though I don’t know yet what I will do with Charley. Interestingly enough, my plan for Brian is more fleshed out than those for Nate or Thomas, simply because it is shorter and kind of more like a side-story. Nate is the main character of Chances and Changes, so there has to be a lot that happens to him.
I have taken so many notes on what to do next, but I just can’t really decide things like whose perspective I want to tell them in, the dialogues that need to happen and stuff like that. I have a rough outline for the next 2-3 chapters, but that’s basically the easy part! I hope I can do it.
I hope you enjoyed the fourth chapter of Chances and Changes! Stay tuned for more!
Sincerely,
Chris