You would have thought that living with my parents for my entire life I would be used to the yelling, the screaming, the abuse, but that was the biggest lie I had ever heard and I'd been brought up on lies. Loving parents? Didn't exist in my world. Normal family life? What was that? Happiness? Did that even exist to begin with? How sad it was for a fourteen year old boy to have no idea what it was like to be happy.
I came home directly after school like every other day. Not doing so made things worse than they already were. Even a minute late would be the cause of…well, I didn't want to be late. Something was different today. I couldn't hear my parents screaming through the perfectly kept walls of our house. Those were lies too, there was nothing perfect here but the house itself. A guise to keep the neighbors from asking questions. Wouldn't want anyone to figure out Daddy's dirty little secret now would we?
But the lack of screaming was…terrifying. There was always screaming, it was what let me get to my room and finish my homework quickly before…shit. No screaming meant Mom wasn't home. That meant…I really wanted to be late now, but that would make it worse in the end. Taking a deep breath I opened the door and peered around it, checking for anyone, or anything, moving inside. It was pitch black even though it was a bright day outside. I left the door open, staying in its protection until I came to the stairs. If I could just make it up to my room…
"Mail, where do you think you're going?" I froze, my blood running through my veins faster than was healthy. I heard a snap, my little patch of safety disappearing. I could hear him breathing behind me now, his mouth too close to my neck. I could smell the alcohol on him, it gagged me until I was forcing myself not to wretch.
"I was going to do homework Dad, I have a lot of it tonight." I don't know how I always kept my voice steady through the fear consuming my mind, but I wouldn't show him how scared I was of him. Maybe if he thought I had homework he wouldn't bother me today, my grades were slightly important to him, at least as long as we didn't have to have a conference they were.
"Don't worry about it now. You're mother's not here, we can have some fun." His lips connected with my neck and a forced the bile that rose in my throat back down.
He wasn't going to make me do homework…he was going to have fun…I wanted to cry as I recognized his meaning of fun. I wasn't going to have any fun, it was all him, making him feel good because my mother couldn't anymore. That was my fault, just like what was to come was my fault, that's what Dad always said. It was my fault my mom couldn't have children ever again, couldn't even have sex with my father. I had hurt her before I was even born, without even knowing it. And now I paid for it every day.
His teeth followed his lips and I knew I would have bruises come morning. He took my backpack and tossed it over the railing to fall at the foot of the stairs. He was going to do this again, so early, so soon after the last time. I couldn't breath, I couldn't speak, I just stood there and let him carry me up the stairs to my room. I knew what was coming when he started to undress me and then himself, I knew that I couldn't get away from him. I closed off every sense I could. I had so much practice closing myself off from this, it scared me to think that, but it was true. I couldn't block the pain though. I could always feel everything, hear everything, no matter how hard I tried. I would just close my eyes and wait for it to end as it always eventually did.
I woke up hours later, my stomach empty and my mind fuzzy, and I could still feel the pain of him being inside me, could still feel all of it. I wanted to run to the bathroom and let my empty stomach empty itself into the toilet, but that was weakness and would only result in more yelling.
I was stiff getting up, my joints cracking in protest of the sudden movement. It was dark out meaning I'd been asleep for too long. I could hear my parents downstairs, yelling like always. I dressed quickly, hoping they wouldn't hear me moving and would leave me alone. My window was still partially open, something I did to avoid the alarm going off when I snuck out at night. It didn't happen often but it was good to be prepared.
There was a tree next to my window, strong and large enough to help me get from the second story to the ground safely. My arm ached from my father's "fun" but it was nothing I wasn't used to my now, it always went away after a few hours movement. A walk to the McDonald's twelve blocks over was the perfect exercise. I had enough money for a few cheeseburgers and large fries. Grease covered in grease, exactly what I needed.
There was a blond boy sitting outside the fast-food chain, snapping off pieces of chocolate and looking around as if waiting for someone. I knew him from school though not well, he was always in trouble for fighting and his clothes – he was always wearing leather, even on the days the temperature reached a hundred. I had never spoken to him though. I felt bad when I saw him, he was always alone, like no one wanted to be near him for some reason. He didn't look like a bad person really, just intimidating and lonely. Still, Father would be mad if he knew I spoke to him, so I had every intention of walking past him, getting my food and getting home before my parents found out I left.
I let out a small yelp when he pulled me down to sit next to him. He didn't say anything at first, just eyed me warily, his eyes boring in to mine. I felt like he could see all my secrets and it was unnerving to say the least. I didn't want him to know what had just happened, what I had let happen. He would probably say it was all my fault, that I had brought it on myself, and then the whole school would know and I would never have a minute of silence. I leaned away from him, turning my eyes to the asphalt. He was silent for a minute more before finally speaking.
"It's not your fault you know." That was all he said and my eyes were glued to him again. How did he know?
"How…how did you know?" I couldn't think of anything more intelligent than that though there were hundreds of other questions floating around in my mind. He looked out at the empty street, snapping off more chocolate.
"I know the signs. And you come here more often then most guys from where you're from do. Most rich guys prefer something less…disgusting."
"I'd rather eat where less people notice me after…well, you know." I tried to play it cool, tried to hide how scary it was for someone to actually know what happened at my house. He wasn't looking at me with disgust though, he wasn't looking at me as if I was something dirty that had brought this all on myself. He was acting completely different that my father had said people would if they found out.
'They would call you disgusting, laugh at you. Nothing would happen to me, they would take you to an institution. You could meet people just as fucked up as you are, you could even trade stories.'
I shivered at the memory. But this guy, this guy I had never even spoken to, wasn't calling me disgusting, or dirty. He wasn't telling me I needed help. He was…telling me it wasn't my fault… And for once I believed it.
"You want to come inside with me? It's really no fun eating my yourself and this sidewalk isn't exactly comfortable." I stood and offered my hand to help him up. I couldn't explain it but I wanted his company, even if for only an hour or two.
He eyed me, as if trying to find a trick in my offer, before taking my hand and leading the way inside. I smiled to myself, hoping this was more than just a one time deal.
Two hours and three full meals later I had found out that this guy was incredibly smart. He had straight A's, which for anyone at our school was just a bit…intimidating. He called himself Mello, but I was pretty sure it was a fake name. When he asked mine, I blanched a bit. I had thought he had known when he pulled me down to sit with him, apparently not. I told him I was Matt, if he knew any different he didn't say anything. We didn't talk about what we both knew were sensitive subjects, I think we both wanted to preserve was much normalcy as possible. I didn't ask how he knew, really how he knew. I couldn't help it, I was curious.
"I've seen you come here a lot. Usually a lot later in the night or earlier in the day. Most of the time you look horrible, like you want to drown or something. You're always wearing baggy clothes that are definitely not what someone with money would wear and I've seen your house, you definitely have money. It's like you're trying to hide behind your clothes, that if you wear things like that no one will see you. And you're right, by the way. Very few people even know you exist. It's a skill, to blend in like that. It's also a defense mechanism, and the way you use it, anyone who does notice you can tell right away what you're hiding."
He spoke like this was all supposed to be common knowledge to me, and I suppose it was. But the fact that he could tell this much about me, just by seeing me in school, was even more proof of his intelligence.
I looked at my watch, hoping it wasn't too late. It was after midnight. Fuck, my dad was going to kill me. I told Mello I had to go, and he got up with me and actually walked me home. I stared at the door before heading over to the tree I had come down earlier. He watched as I climbed up and crawled through my window. I looked over the ledge and waved. He gave a small wave back before starting back down the street.
"Mello!" I had to ask. "Are we gonna hang out in school tomorrow?" I could hear his laugh even from the corner.
"Of course! We're friends now idiot!" I smiled. I hadn't had a friend in ten years.
My smile quickly vanished when I heard my door knob being jiggled. Shit. He had heard me.
I jumped into bed, pulling the blankets up to my chin, hoping he would think I was asleep and leave. He walked in the room, standing over my bed. I forced my breathing to mimic sleep. In, out, in, out. Slowly, evenly. I repeated it over and over inside my head. He never said anything, just reached down and punched my gut hard. I whimpered slightly but kept up the act, knowing what would happen if he knew I was awake.
He gave me a few good kicks before leaving me to my pain. I didn't get much sleep that night.
The next day started like any other. A breakfast of fake smiles and polite bullshit conversation.
"So Mail, who was that blond girl I saw watching your window last night? You fucking around? Do you know what people would say if they saw you with that whore? What kind of girl wears that much leather anyway?"
Oh, Mello. Idiot couldn't even tell he was a he.
"He is a friend, Dad. And I'm not fucking around. There's no point to it."
He glared at me, my mom just stared at her eggs in silence.
"Keep him away from the house then. I don't want anyone asking what some delinquent is doing on out lawn."
I wanted to say that Mello wasn't a delinquent and was much smarter than he would ever be but I knew the consequences for it. I settled for an internal rant and a few muttered curses that I was lucky he couldn't hear.
I left the house early, for once glad to be going to school. Mello was waiting on the sidewalk, snapping pieces off a chocolate bar again. I had a feeling he was carrying a good amount more in his backpack, but didn't mention it. We walked in companionable silence, neither of use really felt the need to speak. We had only known each other for less than a day and we were already more than comfortable with the other. Funny, how a shared secret could do that.
We didn't see each other much in school. He had more advanced classes and was a year above me so the only thing we shared was lunch. It was nice to sit with someone for a change, even if the food was still terrible.
We filled the hour by asking each other questions. Clothing preferences – as if it wasn't obvious – favorite pastimes, games, television shows, movies, music. We had a lot in common, I found out. I also found out his birthday was in a few weeks, and that he would rather read than go to school. I was happy to finally have someone to talk to even if it was only in school. I knew everything would be the same when I got home, but at least I had a sliver of something to look forward to.
He walked me home again after school, stopping to stare up at my house from the sidewalk. It didn't look like anyone was home, both cars were gone and I thought it was a work day for my dad so I invited him in. he stared at everything with a curious look in his eyes, making me wonder what his house was like. He never mentioned it, and I wasn't about to press him for answers. He could tell me when he felt like it.
He sat on a plush leather couch and flicked on the T.V., setting it to a news channel, the main story about some mass murderer and a detective I had heard mentioned before that was trying to catch him. Mello was completely engrossed in the program and I didn't mention my disinterest in it. I got a bar of chocolate out of the pantry and tossed it to him, he smiled his thanks before ripping a section of the silver wrapping off and snapping off a piece. I pored myself a glass of lemonade and settled down next to him on the couch.
The story was actually pretty interesting. Every victim was a criminal and had died of a heart attack, but no one knew exactly how so many were dieing so quickly. It was a bit scary. But when they showed a threat from the detective investigating the murders, I recognized who they were talking about. L. Greatest detective in the world. And suddenly I was just as interested as Mello.
Apparently L had narrowed the region the guy was killing from after only a week of being in the case. He had threatened him on live T.V. and everything and the guy, Kira apparently, was taunting him by only killing criminals in that area. Smart guy, confident.
"I'm trying to find L you know." Mello mentioned as if pointing out the weather. As far as I knew, no one had ever seen L's face, even the people who he had work for him.
"And how are you doing that?" Might as well ask, if he was so willing to share.
"I'm keeping up with this case, Kira, and when I have enough information I'm going to try and get it to L. If it's good enough I might get to meet him."
Ah. That's actually a really good idea when I think about it.
"I'm pretty good with computers, want me to help?" Sure he might say no, but it's something to get me out of the house. And I can just make up a project for Dad. Or I can say I'm taking notes to be an investigator when I'm older, he might be pleased with that.
Mello eyed me warily like the first time we had spoken, trying to discern my abilities with a computer no doubt. Seemingly appeased, he nodded.
It was at that moment that my dad decided to come home, bringing the smell of booze with him. I heard Mello gag next to me and quickly dragged him to the back door. If Dad saw him, I'd be dead. He didn't argue with being kicked out. He just gave me an understanding look before ducking out of sight. I sighed and turned to face my drunk father.
"You're home early. I thought you had work today." If I ignored him it would be worse. I tried for calm, and only just achieved it. He was shutting the door and I saw Mello give me an apologetic look before it closed. Why was he giving me that look?
I didn't have time to think as lips met mine and I was drowning in my own disgust. I held still, waiting for the end. He didn't like being ignored and pushed more forcefully against me. I whimpered and he smiled against my lips. He was enjoying my pain, the bastard.
His hands fumbled down my pants, gripping what no father should ever touch. I tried to pull away, I didn't want this, not so soon after Mello had left. What if he saw? I would never be able to look at him again. I tired to close myself off from reality but it wouldn't come. I was going to have to go through this like the first time.
He pulled away, noticing the T.V. for the first time.
"Why are you watching this shit? Hoping Kira will kill you for being so disgusting, are you?" I didn't say anything and he pulled his hand back to strike my cheek.
I could taste blood and knew it was from my lip, but did nothing. If I just let it go on it would be over faster. He hit me again and again. Kicking my ribs and stomach. I was coughing blood before he stopped. He didn't leave. He just pulled down my pants and did what he pleased.
After he was finished he had me clean up his mess, and then told me to make him dinner. He was laughing the entire time, watching the story on L. I tuned him out, refusing to listen to him complain about someone who had more success and brains than he did. I was fairly sure a rock had more brain cells than he did, but again I kept myself from saying it out loud.
I climbed the stairs to my room, hoping sleep would be easy though I knew it wouldn't be. I undressed, opening my closet for a clean pair of pants to sleep in. I almost screamed when a blond head stuck itself from behind the hangers of clothes.
"Mello what the fuck are you doing here? If my dad sees you…" I looked at the door I had left unlocked and quickly locked it before my dad decided he was bored with T.V. and came up.
Mello had climbed from the closet looking at me with an expression I didn't quite know how to place.
"Pack a bag. You're staying with me from now on." I gaped at him not sure what to say. Of course I wanted to go with him, but I didn't know if I could leave my dad here…he would kill me if he found me later.
But I felt…compelled to go with Mello, like I had just been waiting for him to come to my house and say it. After a moments hesitation I nodded and packed a good portion of my clothes, handheld games, and computer in a backpack, making sure to grab my school stuff before I followed Mello out the window.
His house was small and he explained that it was the most he could afford since he was more or less on his own. He had an aunt who sent him money every couple of weeks but it wasn't much. He also had two jobs that paid a lot but weren't very safe. He had a T.V., a computer, a kitchen with all the appliances, a bedroom, with two beds – one of which was now mine he explained.
"Why did we have to leave now though?" I asked after setting my stuff down and flopping on the bed. I didn't want to go back, but I didn't want to impose on Mello, or bring my dad's anger on him.
He stared for a moment before answering. "If you hadn't left he would have hurt you more. Have you even seen yourself? You look like you got in a fight with a truck."
I felt like I had gotten in a fight with a truck, and lost. But that still didn't explain having to leave.
As if reading my mind he answered again. "Look, I know the signs because my dad did the same thing to me. A different reason sure, but the same consequences. It took me all of twelve years to notice that he was getting progressively worse and to realize I needed to leave before he killed me. Your dad had that same look in his eyes that mine had when he tried to kill me. I wasn't going to let you go through what I did."
He sat on his bed and effectively ended the conversation. I thought about what he had said, and it made sense. What didn't make sense to me was that he hadn't had a single emotion in his voice when saying it. It was deadpan, flat, empty. I could tell there was more to the story than he was going to tell me and decided to let it drop. I was too tired for questions right now anyway.
I curled up around the pillow and was asleep before Mello even turned on the small T.V.
A/N: OK so i don't know if this has already been done, the whole raped by his father thing, since i haven't read through every Matt/Mello story out there, and i really don't have that much time as much as i would enjoy it, but i woke up and just really wanted to write something like this. i have no idea why, but i think something like this happened to Matt before going to Wammy's just because he's always listening to Mello and he's good at ignoring his rants and stuff.
OK so don't hate my take on how they met or anything else that happens, which i really don't have many plans for since this is just spur of the moment... ideas are welcome though so yeah... reviews are nice