A/N: This story is based on a dream that I had back in high school. It seemed so unreal that I just had to write it.
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Madeline Jones walked down a long corridor of offices, looking for one in particular. She had to find him. He was her last hope at ever having a normal family again. If he couldn't help Matthew, then no one could. That was all there was to it. She took a deep breath as her eyes fell upon the name plaque across the open door to his office. "Excuse me," she softly said, getting his attention at his desk. "Are you Dr. Toris Laurinaitis?"
Toris Laurinaitis sat back in his chair and folded his hands over the paperwork he had been writing on. "Indeed I am," he told her. "Come on in. Have a seat, ma'am." His green eyes followed the blonde as she sat in the chair across from the desk. "Now, what is it that I can help you with today?"
She sighed, wondering where on earth to begin. "It's my son, Matthew. He has many social problems." Madeline wasn't even sure if she had even explained that correctly, but it was the easiest way to put it. Besides, she wasn't exactly sure how to describe Matthew's problems other than "social".
"What kinds of social problems?" Toris asked, straightening his paperwork on his desk. "Does he not fit in or something? Is he depressed?"
"Those are only two of the three that I can think of off the top of my head," she answered honestly, biting her lip as she internally dreaded his next question.
"What would that third problem be, Mrs. Jones?" he asked after a quick glance to his appointment book to check the name.
"He hasn't spoken a word since he was nine years old."
Toris looked through his paperwork, trying to find his information on Matthew Jones. "How old is he now?"
"He just turned sixteen," Madeline sighed. Her deep blue eyes looked to the floor.
The psychologist gently slapped his hands onto his desk and rose up in his chair a little more. "Woah," he whispered to himself. In his years as a psychologist, he had never heard of anything like this before. "What happened to him when he was nine? What could've been so bad that he'd stop speaking for seven years?" he asked Madeline.
Madeline folded her hands in her lap and gazed down at them. "There were many things."
"What would these things happen to be, Mrs. Jones?" toris asked her, folding his hands over his paperwork once more.
She took a deep breath. "To start things off, he was bullied at school for being over weight, so he became anorexic. My husband and I tried to make him eat, but we eventually had to hospitalize him. When he came home from there, his father left for Iraq two weeks later. He was devastated, and that's when he stopped talking." Madeline sighed. "Somewhere around three months later, his brother was killed in an accident. A drunk driver ran over him." She put her hand to her forehead in distress. "Matthew locked himself in his room for three weeks. Now, he just sits at home and writes in his journal. Whenever someone goes to see what he wrote, she slams it shut and storms off." She looked over at Toris. "Even through all of his, he has been a 'Straight-A' student." Madeline went quiet for a moment. "A year ago, my husband was fatally wounded on the battlefield. Again, Matthew refused to come out of his room." She looked up at Toris with teary eyes. "Dr. Laurinaitis, I'm so worried about him!"
"From what it sounds like, he has every reason to be how he is," Toris stated. "I will help him as best as I can. Hopefully, I can get him to talk again."
Madeline stood up and vigorously shook Toris's hand with both of hers. "Thank you, Dr. Laurinaitis! Thank you so much!"
"It's my pleasure, ma'am," Toris said with a smile. Though deep down, he was wondering what sorts of things to expect from this Matthew Jones.
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Matthew Jones sat in his room, scribbling in his journal. His mouth was closed in a firm line. He didn't want anyone bothering him. He was the kind of guy who enjoyed the silence that surrounded him. Being a man of no words, it soothed him.
A loud knock on the door changed everything. He silently sighed and closed his journal before making his way across the room and opening the door. And there stood his kid sister, Madison. Her dark hair was falling out of her pigtails as she stood there, crying.
"Can I come in, Mattie?" she tearfully asked, wiping her eyes on her sleeve.
Matthew shrugged and stepped aside so she could enter. He shut the door before getting his guitar out while Madison perched herself on his bed. His foot kicked over a stool before he sat on it and began to strum. It was a song he had written years before.
Madison scrubbed at her eyes for a moment before realizing it. "It's the song!" she gasped out. She looked down as her brother smiled and nodded to her. Her heart told her not to say it, but she couldn't stop herself as she softly said, "I remember when you wrote this song." She watched her older brother's smile fade. "It took you three weeks."
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Seven Years Previous
Matthew pensively walked by a lake with his brother Alfred. The two boys were nearly identical in their looks, behaviors, everything. People would often ask if they were twins, to which they would shake their heads, smile, and say, "No way! We're triplets!" Which was true. They had a triplet sister named Amelia, but they weren't nearly as close with her as they were with each other.
"Mattie, how long do you plan on keeping this up?" Alfred demanded as his brother shrugged his response. "You can't be silent forever."
Matthew gave his brother a challenging look. Did he not realize who he was dealing with? He was the most stubborn of his siblings, by far. If anyone could do it, he could.
"So you're going to keep this up until not one single sound escapes your lips?" Alfred watched his brother nod. "Well, how about you practice then?" he asked. He could tell his brother was confused, so without another word, he pushed Matthew into the lake. Alfred pointed at Matthew when he rose back up and climbed out, laughing. "See, you need to practice, Matt. Practice is what it takes."
Without another word, Matthew tackled Alfred into the lake as they laughed and laughed and laughed.
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Present Day
Madison bit her lip as she watched her brother stare blankly at his guitar. "Mattie? Can you hear me?" she asked.
Matthew shook his head to bring him back to reality. He slowly nodded. Thinking about Alfred always depressed him, but sometimes he just couldn't help it. Certain things just triggered flashbacks.
"You stopped mid-song," Madison told him. She smiled as he began to play once again. "Are there any words to this song?" Her eyes lit up as Matthew nodded. "Can I read them?" Her heart stopped for a moment as he stopped playing and stared at her. "I'll take that as a no." He shrugged, causing her face to light up once more. "I guess that old phrase really is right," she mused to herself as he began playing again. "Actions really do speak louder than words."