DESTINED BY FATE

Prologue:     It was early in the morning as he was laying on the bed, lost in his thoughts. Eyes filled with pain, hands holding each other as he stared at the ceiling. Thoughts roamed his head and caused too much chaos and a headache.      Why did he have to feel that way? Why did he always feel pain? His heart longed for love, he needed the touch of someone. To be loved. He wanted to know what it was like to be in love. Why couldn’t he just be loved? His heart begged him for it like it was something he could control with a snap of his fingers.      He was going to turn eighteen soon. Eighteen and never felt what it’s like to be in love. He only knew his family and best friend. Nobody cared for him other than those. Or that was what he thought.      He gasped silently, getting out of his deep trance, hearing the voice of his mother from downstairs.      "Charles!" She called. "Breakfast will be ready soon, get up and get ready" she added.      “Be down in a few minutes, Mom.”     He groaned as he got up from bed, as lazy as ever, still finding it hard to open his eyes widely.      He felt like a newborn baby, still learning how to walk on his feet. Another day of school. He grimaced, remembering that it was Monday, worst day of the week. Didn’t everybody agree to that?     Charles managed to take off his clothes through the drowsiness and let them fall on the floor carelessly. He then entered the shower, letting the steaming hot water cover his entire body. He liked it that way, warm and soothing. It took his mind off things for a while. He always wished there was another way to calm himself down than the shower.      After some minutes,he decided to get out and start dressing up. He dried his body with a towel and picked his favorite crimson red top and leather jeans from the tall brown closet.      Within five minutes, he was ready to go downstairs for breakfast. He was starving like he was kept from eating for days. As he stormed out of his room letting the door shut with a loud bang by mistake, he cringed.      “Sorry, just a mistake!”he apologized, shouting for his parents to hear him.      He took two stairs at a time like every morning since he was a kid and headed for the kitchen directly.      “Morning!”     He greeted his family who were already sitting on the table, waiting for him. His mom smiled and his father nodded, his face buried in a newspaper.     "Hello little Cherry!" He called out, smiling at his little sister who giggled in a cute way upon seeing him. He liked calling her that since Charlotte's face always had an adorable red color every time he saw her. So the nickname fit, he thought.       He sat down serving himself some toast and his favorite…Nutella. The smell was enough to make his eyes sparkle and get him as excited as a kid for candy. He took a knife, spreading it on the toast and sitting down, biting into the first one.      "Your father will drop you off at school today darling. I have a really early meeting today. I'm really sorry hun” His mother said, looking away from him, already imagining the glare directed her way.      “Okay, mother.” He replied, hiding the irritation from his father. He did not like his dad dropping him off at school since whenever they were together, they would always have this long and extremely boring father and son conversation. He would mostly talk about love, how he used to be a player in his college days, how he met his wife and she changed him into a better man and that they are happily married for 20 years.      "Well guess it’ll be just you and me lad.”     His father joined in the conversation, using his British accent. Charles nodded, letting out a long and heavy sigh and leaving the dining table to get his backpack.       It had hung on the wall after he got back from school last week. Caleb, his father went to the driveway to move his Lexus 450. He horned, signaling for his son to hurry up.     He let out a groan, wondering why his father was always so quick about everything and walked closer to the car, imaging what he was about to listen his father talk about. Was he in the mood for that? No he wasn’t and can never be.