Chapter Text
Year Three,
Nathaniel had sat in the middle of the room, his legs tucked beneath him. In his small hands was a wooden duck, its yellow paint worn smooth where fingers had touched it many times before. Father had given it to him that morning, before Father had gone away to work. Nathaniel liked the duck. He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth and made a soft quacking sound, the way he thought ducks talked. He pushed the toy slowly along the edge of a warm sunbeam on the floor, watching it glide through the light.
Mommy sat close, reading a book he had brought from his bedroom. There was the quiet sound of pages flipping and it made him feel safe. Mommy being near always made things feel right.
Then there was a loud bang. The big wooden door was shoved open hard and slammed against the wall. Nathaniel jumped, his whole body jerking all at once. The duck slipped from his fingers and fell to the floor with a sharp clatter that hurt his ears.
A man stood in the doorway. It was Father, but he looked different from this morning. His face was tight and darkened now.
“Explain this,” Father said. Nathaniel had never heard Father sound like that before. It made his chest feel funny and tight. It was scary.
Nathaniel looked at Mommy. Mommy had stood up from his chair. His mouth was moving, and he was saying something, but Nathaniel couldn’t understand the words. Father’s voice grew louder. It pushed over Mommy’s voice and made it disappear.
He didn’t like this. He wanted it to stop. He wanted his mommy.
Thin arms wrapped around him. He was pulled back against a chest. It was his Nanny. She held him tight and rocked him a little. "Shh, my prince, cover your ears," she whispered urgently in his ear. Nathaniel shook and pushed at her. He didn’t want Nanny. He wanted Mommy.
“Mwammy!” he cried, reaching out his small, chubby arms toward him. “Mwammy!”
Mommy heard him. He stepped toward him and reached out his hand.
But Father was faster. His hand clamped down on Mommy’s arm. His Father didn't seem to hear him at all. With a rough jerk, he pulled Mommy towards the open door.
“Mwammy!” Nathaniel screamed. He kicked and pushed against his Nanny, but she held him tight. She pressed his face into her shoulder so he couldn’t see anymore. He heard the heavy footsteps, the scuffle, the slam of the door.
Then there were screams. Mommy’s crying came through the thick wood on the other side.
Nathaniel went stiff in Nanny’s arms. He cried into her chest, his body shaking.
The book his Mommy had been reading was left on the floor.
This was the first memory Nathaniel ever remembered.