Once he was in a state of seclusion behind the security of his slammed bedroom door, Gil let it all out. The boy simply fell to his knees and sobbed uncontrollably. He cradled his calves in the weakening grasp of his scrawny arms and held them to his chest. Sometimes, he'd swear that there was absolutely no one who could possibly understand him. There simply couldn't be a soul as unfortunate as Gilbert Finnegan. He wouldn't wish for anyone to carry his burdens and bare his scars. And especially share the same conceived notion of birth as him. No one on the face of the earth deserved to be a nattie. The boy just sat and wept for a good few minutes or so. Or at least he found comfort in the last thought to cross his mind. He wasn't alone. Gil's tears seemed to dry when he thought of Frederick.
Frederick was a nattie, or as a scientist would say, a product of natural birth. So, Gil and Frederick shared that fact. However, Frederick was also unique in his own individual right. Not only was he a nattie, but also one of the flawed. Anyone who wasn't particularly close to the child would most likely be able to pick up on the fact that he was special in some way, but probably wouldn't be able to place a finger on how he was exactly. The boy was exceptionally bright in just about every school subject. Especially math. He loved numbers. Frederick could ramble on and on about the differences between imaginary, rational, and natural numbers. And this was all before middle school. The boy was only in kindergarten. His intelligence though, seemed to be limited to just academics. When it came to being social amongst his peers, he fell was perhaps a bit subpar. He little to no sizeable number of friends. Or at least until Gil came along.
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