The Journal of Nate Earnheart

I walked the long carpeted corridor. The light streamed in through the windows that faced out over the garden and, beyond our estate’s wall, the towering, silver city. The crisp, sweet sound of the piano in our art studio filled the air, as my younger brother practiced with his instructor. I reached in my pockets and slouched as I looked at the ground, at my feet as I shuffled them. I pulled my cell-phone out of my pocket and looked hopefully at the digital clock on the screen. I sighed, why did the day have to pass so slowly? It felt as if I had been walking around like this for hours, when in fact it had only been twenty minutes or so.

My head bumped into someone’s chest and I dropped my cell-phone and it scattered to the floor. I looked up.

“Whoa,” My dad said, and smiled and rubbed my hair, “watch where you’re going there Nate.”

“Natalie, Dad.” I warned him, pointing a scolding finger, “How many times have I told you that if mom wanted me to have a boy’s name, she would have given one to me… And it would have been something much cooler, like Maximus… or Rex.” I kid and smiled. “Wow,” I said to him, as I reached down to pick up my cell-phone and the back of it that had popped off, “they let you off work early today.” Dad was always at the office until late in the evening, filing paperwork or making phone calls.

“Mm,” he said. I stood back up and saw that his expression was somewhat troubled for a moment before he composed it. “What were you looking so intently at the time for? Waiting for something?”

I shook my head and shoved the phone back into my pocket. “Dinner time is all,” I exaggerated and rubbed my belly, “I’m staaaaarving.”


My brother, as he sat at the piano, his fluffy brown hair, smooth over his angelic head and face, smiling as he played a piece by Mozart, elated as the instructor complimented him, probably dreaming of his future as a world famous musician or composer. My mother, as she walked around our estate’s garden in her large, floppy, ridiculous straw hat, blonde curls falling around her face as she grinned, giving water to the roses and tracing her hands along the hedges, like Mother Nature herself. And my father, patting me on the head and calling me Kiddo, coming home after I had spent hours pacing around the large mansion, shuffling my feet, looking at the clock on my phone, just waiting for him. These are the images that flooded my head, that brought tears to my eyes despite the physical pain, that I knew would haunt me for the rest of my life, as my world first came to its end.

My legs were buried beneath the ashy rubble of the front porch of our mansion, that had been consumed with flames as the rest of the house had, while my family and I were peacefully asleep. I crawled forward on my elbows through the dirt and cried out in agony as I slowly inched free. There was the sound of footsteps up ahead, “Help,” I mumbled, not thinking clearly after inhaling so much smoke. The footsteps stopped. The sting in my eyes started to subside and the tears started to dry. Through the smoke, like images in a mirage, I saw four men. I stumbled up to my feet and backed away, my eyes open in fear. They turned to look at me. The largest guy of the four grumbled something to the others. I continued to inch my way backwards.

“Get her,” I saw his lips move. I recognized his face now. He was one of the mayor’s bodyguards and worked along with my dad.

“No,” I mumbled, shocked that something like this could happen to us. Shocked that something like this could happen to my father. And shocked that I had trusted someone like the mayor, who was capable of doing something like this.

As quickly as possible, I took off running in the other direction, towards our garden and the wall that surrounded the estate. I kept on running through the night, as my home continued to burn in the backdrop of this horror film, without looking back. I clawed my way up a tree that hung over the fence, the one my father kept urging the gardeners to cut because it was a safety hazard, scrapping my knees as I made it onto a branch that dangled over to the sidewalk outside, then dropped and caught myself with my hands on the concrete before crumbling onto my shoulder. I gritted my teeth and then scrambled to my feet, weaved my way into a crowd of people and into a back alley, hid behind a dumpster, and waited for the agonizing minutes to pass by once again, as I breathed heavily and buried my face in my knees, hoping this was all just a nightmare. Please, let it be a nightmare.

"Four dead after businessman's estate burns to ground. Officials say the fire was started in the family's kitchen by their teenage daughter before taking her own life. It took the dispatched fire department approximately two hours to calm the flames that swept over the property. The four bodies were later recovered..."

I was waiting to feel angry after reading the headline at the newstand. But, during the train ride over to this new town, as I walked down the street, like I was just waiting for some voice to tell me what it was I had to do next, as I laid down and rested against the wall of an old butcher shop on the night of the incident before somehow falling asleep, all I could feel was numb, numb and, occasionally, fear, when I heard a shout, a car backfiring, or a siren in the distance. Now, as I folded the paper in front of me and handed the paper back to the man at the stand, who was urging me to buy it, I still couldn't manage to feel anything. No, wait, there was something there. The disappointment that I wasn't even comfortable with getting angry right now. That I couldn't mourn my family. Because I was still too frightened. And I was still alone. And I was still waiting for that voice to tell me what to do...

"But I can't keep waiting," The voice finally said in my head. "You have to do something. They somehow managed to cover up what had really happened to my family, probably paid off the forensics team to plant and ignore some evidence, but that doesn't mean they won't be looking for me. I can almost guarantee that they are." I shivered at the thought and pulled my sleeves down over my hands and gripped them in my fists. The stares of the passerbyes made me feel even more nervous, like I had a sign over my head that said, "Look at me, I'm hiding something," but it was then that I realized that I was still walking around in my PJs.

I sneaked a hoodie and some old jeans out of a bin behind a Good Will. I'm pretty sure that they were a donation that someone had dropped off, and that I had just committed a crime, but, according to what everyone believes, it wouldn't have been the worst thing I have done. Not in a long shot. I changed clothes in a gas station restroom. After stepping out of the stall and looking at myself in the mirror, a smirk finally spread its way across my face. The words, "If mom wanted me to have a boy's name, she would have given one to me," came to my mind because, right now with these baggy clothes and dirt smeared on my face and my hair a mess, I looked just like a boy.

"That's right," I mumbled. I took my hair that ran down my back and pulled it up like I was making a ponytail. "Natalie is dead. I have to reinvent myself. And, if the mayor's goonies are looking for a girl like Natalie, then who better to become than a boy?"

I grabbed some scissors at a nearby dollar store and chopped off my hair with them when no one was looking, leaving a pile of blonde curls on the floor in my wake. On that day Natalie had officially died, and Nate was born in her place.

The door shutting woke me up. I sat up on the couch and the blanket that was draped over me fell off. I rubbed my eyes. Claire was standing over me, shaking her head. She sat down on the couch next to me and patted my head, "Sorry Nate," she said to me, "but he said you have to go."

"What!" I shouted, suddenly fully awake now. "But, you said that he said that it was just fine, you know, since I'm not into girls or anything."

She shrugged her shoulders. "Boy can't make up his mind."

"So... so you're just going to kick me out like that?! What am I, a puppy?"

... I was a puppy dammit.

I leaned dejectedly against the staircase of Claire's appartment building. I met her one night outside of a club... I was just sleeping, but Claire seemed to think I had had one too many drinks. So... I let her think I was drunk. And, since Claire was as ditz who didn't seem to think that anything weird might happen if she took a strange, intoxicated guy back to her apartment... she took me back to her apartment and let me "sober up." The next morning is when I told her I was actually looking for a place to stay, and asked if it was okay if I roomed with her, and that it was okay because I was "gay." Apparently, however, that didn't seem to satisfy her new boyfriend. And I was dumped... metaphorically.

The door opened again and my face lit up. Claire peeked her head out. "Sorry about this again Nate," she tossed a bag out onto the street. "There are your clothes." She slammed the door back shut and I clenched my fists as I stomped over and snatched the clothes up off of the sidewalk. I shook a fist at the door, grit my teeth, and swallowed down the stream of curse words I was about to spew. I threw the bag of clothes over my shoulder and slumped as I walked down the street.

Great, now what was I supposed to do? Another night sleeping on the streets? It had been a year since I found myself in this situation, since that day my world ended and I took on the name of Nate. It was like I was slowly becoming a different person. The calm, soft-spoken, friendly oriented Natalie was becoming a rough, foul-mothed, tricky city kid... I kind of missed the old me, and wondered if she was still deep down there somewhere. I grunted and rubbed my shoulder in discomfort at the thought. Let's not get my hopes up. I feel if I let her show, something dangerous would happen. Like I'd start thinking it's safe to go home now for instance... It's been a year now right? If I let the old me surface she'd surely break down and go running back to her hometown. And that can't happen. Not until I'm sure the coast is clear.


That night I slept in an alley again. I was awoken a few hours past midnight to a sound that sent shivers down my spine, the sound of gunshots. Images flashed in my head. The face of that man from that night a year ago, the heavy man's eyes that sent the other three after me through the dark, like dogs hunting a fox. My eyes snapped wide open and I looked over my chest in a panic for blood. There wasn't any, of course. In the moonlight I could see three guys running up ahead. They came to a screeching halt in front of a chainlink fence. Two of them faced the other one down, one held something up from his side towards their victim. Bam, he fired a shot from the gun and I saw his target jerk backwards, slump forward, and crumble to the ground. Whispered words, then the two ran away. Leaving the fallen alone to bleed. I breathed heavily, never taking my eyes off of that body laying there, for what felt like hours. Finally, I worked up some courage and tiptoed over towards the fence. He was certainly dead, his face was already like ice. I rummaged through his inner coat pockets. In there was a wad of cash, a gun, and a switchblade. I shoved the switchblade and the cash into my hoodie... I didn't really know how to fire a gun anyways and for some reason didn't wish to know how.

I realized I needed to start learning how to protect myself. Living on the street was dangerous enough, even more so for a girl... boy... whatever. I stayed overnight at this one guy's house. There I watched martial arts and self-defense videos for two weeks straight on the internet before I was kicked out by the landlord. I met some pretty cool kids who taught me how to best use my switchblade. Everything else came from practice, from experience (a little dude like me was an easy target I guess... like high school all over again, sort of), and from my prior years as a gymnast and a member on the track team.

Two years went by, I had completely immersed myself in my role as Nate. His personality, his characteristics, his likes and dislikes just kept growing and growing. He was ready to take on the world. Too bad it was about to come to an end... again.

Did you ever wonder what it would be like to be a ghost? Did you ever imagine a day when you would be standing in front of your own gravestone, with the wind blowing the hair that poked out of your jacket’s hood, the trees howling in the distance on a dreary day? Was it necessary for the day you came face to face with your haunting past to be dismal? If I went by the books, then it had to be so.

I sighed and bent down and brushed some dust off of my foot marker. On the headstone it read, “Here lies Natalie Thompson, daughter, sister, and friend…” They forgot about murderer. I stood up and tugged my hood a little more around my face. Three years have gone by now. My father, my mother, and my brother all rest here in this graveyard that I finally worked up the guts to visit. Seems like I’m the only company they have had in a while. I’m the only one alive left to give a damn… and I’ve been frightened, guilt ridden, and chased away to the point that I haven’t been able to. Not until now. I haven’t been able to cry until now either.

In the wind and the fall air my tears felt like burning ice as they dripped down my cheeks. I sniffled and wiped an arm across my face to get rid of them. It was so stupid, the thing that brought me here. I was cruising the night spots with my new friend, Conner, having a good time hitting up some bars, hitting on some girls… well at least Conner was. Through the crowd I heard someone call a name, Natalie, and turned my head to look. You’d think I would have heard the name before now. It’s not exactly a common name, but it’s not an unusual one. I stared as a girl came running up to one of her friends and embraced her with a hug.

“Hey Nate, what is it man?” Conner’s voice broke my daze and brought me back to the room.

“Nothing,” I mumbled, and took a sip of my drink. “Just thought I heard someone calling me is all.”

I fell to my knees and put my head in my hands. Was it Natalie that was calling me? I just wanted to lay down on the grave and die right here and there… That’s what was running through my mind. My body would merge with the ground and meld together with the soul I left buried beneath it. Then, maybe, I could finally be at peace.

There was the sound of gravel moving in the distance and my ears perked. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a black car pulling into the cemetery. I stood up slowly, making sure my face was turned slightly away from whoever it was. I shoved my hands in my pockets and walked in the other direction, sharply but slowly, my head lowered, like a distraught person who could no longer stand the grief of losing their loved one, when in reality I could have stayed there and wallowed in my grief and mourning for all eternity. What else does a ghost have to do?


The train ride back to my new roost was bumpy, but I managed to sleep with my head against the window for most of the way.

Right now I was living a good two and a half hours away from my hometown. It’s not that far when you think about it… but there seemed to be some distance that I couldn’t cross before being pulled back towards the security of familiarity… if that makes any sense.

My good friend Conner was letting me room with him, in a loft above his uncle’s video store. He got me a job there working in the back storeroom. Most of the time I just sat there lazily chewing bubble gum and reading magazines.

“Conner!” I shouted, as I came through the front door of the loft and took off my shoes and threw them on the floor. “Let’s go out tonight!” There was no answer. I peeked my head around into his bedroom. There was no one there. He must have gone out without me… Well I didn’t expect him to sit around all day and do nothing while I went out to mope.

I quirked my mouth to the side before the realization that I was alone finally hit me. I did a fist pump in front of me, multiple times. This meant romantic comedies, girly magazines, candy and lodes of it, everything that I needed to get over a sad day and I could have it… because I was alone and hell yeah I was going to enjoy it. First, I needed some cash to go buy some junk food, but I spent most of mine on train fare… I was sure Conner wouldn’t mind me borrowing some and returning it.

I went into his room and reached up into the top of his closet, scavenging around for the plastic jar I knew he kept his money stash it. My hand hit something and it fell to the floor, a plastic bag with tiny white pills inside. I gulped. Probably just some pain relievers or something… sure. Like hell I would believe that. Something didn’t feel right.

I grabbed my jacket and the money that I finally found and rushed out into the oncoming night. The heavy metal hinges squeaked as I went out the back door of the video store and the door slammed closed behind me. I stopped, inhaled and wriggled my fingers as I realized that I had forgotten my keys. I spun around and jiggled the door handle. Dammit, I was locked out. I kicked the door with my foot and then hobbled backwards, yowling out obscenities like a sailor.

“You!” Someone shouted from the end of the alley. I whipped my head around to look at whoever it was that had the nerve to call me You. A guy with a faux-hawk, patting a wooden baseball bat against his palm, and three other dudes that I could care less about. Faux-hawk dude smirked, “Are you an affiliate of Conner?”

“Damn, did you just use the word affiliate?” I said sarcastically and grinned. “Well ain’t you the educated bastard.” My smile faded. “Now what do you want?” I said coldly. “Can’t you see I’m doing something?”

“What are you doing?”

“I’m locked out of my house, so fuc…” Ugh, shit… Why was I so stupid?

“Your house?” His eyes widened and he looked down on me like he was talking to a child. “I thought you weren’t an affiliate of Conner… Would you happen to know where your little pal went? Someone we know would like to have a word with him.”

I held my hands out in front of me. “Honestly man, I have no clue. Do I look like the dude’s babysitter?”

“No, you don’t look like his Nana,” he said, “but you’ll get the message across just fine.” Suddenly, he swung the baseball bat towards my head, I ducked just in time for it to brush across a few strands of my hair. “When he finds you in the alley, he’ll know what he has to do. So just sit still and take it like a man twerp.”

Take it like a man, yeah right. I charged at him and sent my elbow into his chin, while his head snapped backwards I smoothly glided underneath his arm and headed towards the brick wall. All I had to do was get past them and then I was safe. Two of his friends came towards me. I jumped before one could lay their hands on me, pushed off of his shoulder and drove him into the wall. Using the momentum and the lift I got from his friend, I kicked the other one in the face with my heel.

I stumbled as I landed on the ground. When I stood back up, the fourth one caught me around the neck with his left arm. He used his right fist to drive a punch into my stomach that made me heave. Then another one that made my eyes water. I bit down on his nasty arm and tasted blood in my mouth. I wasn’t sure if it was mine or his at this point. His grip loosened on me and I managed to slip out of his clutch. In front of me was the sidewalk and the street, open to run to. I was ready to sprint towards it, but was shaky. I hesitated.

Someone caught the back of my shirt with their hand. “Let me go you…,” I couldn’t choke out the last word as something slammed into my back and made my knees bend. I fell forward onto the ground as faux-hawk dude stood before my blurry eyes with his bat over his shoulder. He brought it down on my side this time.

“Don’t worry kid,” he assured me, his eyes angry and bloodshot, “we’re just going to rough you up a bit is all.”

That’s the last thing I remember before everything went black.

Night in the city wasn’t beautiful. I feared the creature’s of the night much more here than what I did the creature’s that lived in the forest behind my home. I gazed up as the buildings above me spun in circles. Sirens, cars, and alarms pierced my mind and made me want to cry. Wait, was I crying? I couldn’t move my mouth, I think my lip was busted. It was hard to blink too, and was my nose broken? It hurt enough to just breath, much less try to move. Maybe if I just laid there long enough, someone would come to take me away. You couldn’t see them very well because of the city lights, but there were stars out that night. Spinning along with everything else spun up in my beaten head.

I know I’ll probably sound like I’m experiencing a bad trip right now if I start talking about extraterrestrials and other worlds, and stupid things you see on the sci-fi channel, but did you ever look up at the night sky and see the stars move? Do you know the stars are always moving? Well, okay the stars aren’t moving, but just our view of them. When I was little, I used to stare up at the stars for hours. Though their movement was so miniscule, I swear I could see them slowly creeping around the sky. It was then that I convinced myself that we were not alone in this universe, and that those stars were indeed aliens driving around in their little space cars… And I had felt so smart for spending the time, looking up at those stars to figure it all out, I thought I deserved a medal. Or, if not a medal, at least a little thank you from our green friends above, for finally taking notice of them. And during times when this world felt like too much for me to handle, they could at least do me a favor and beam me up and take me away.

Weird how right now I couldn’t even wish for that. If you could believe the irony that at the very same moment a giant beam of light descended from the heavens and caught the whole world on fire, in an event that would be the end of life as we know it, I was wishing my little green friends would shoot me with their death ray and just end it all instead… well maybe you’re experiencing a very bad trip too. Please, let this be a bad trip.