"Papa will always love you"
It was the last thing 5-year-old Matthew heard his dad said to him. Putting a stuffed polar bear in his arms and leaving him with his friend and his friend's son, he walked out the door, putting his hands behind his back turning to the German and Spaniard cops that had enough pity to let this broke father say goodbye to his only son before he was taken to jail for crimes so petty, it was almost stupid. The Frenchman could only hope his little boy had a better chance in this world with his friend Arthur.
10 years later, Mathew, now 15, looked over to his brother. They weren't related but one would never know by looking at them. Picking up his now broken glasses, he frowned softly. His brother smiled, obliviously chatting with his friends, unaware of the tormenter who had broken Matthew's glasses. Alfred was his name. Alfred, the only person Matthew still thought cared for him. He used to take care of him, make sure no one picked on him, but now, Alfred seemed to completely ignore the bullying that happened to his brother. He seemed to be blissfully unaware. Matthew sighed and faked a smile. Few people in his life ever cared. All of them were gone or stopped caring. Few noticed a sharp glare that was sent to poor Mattie's tormenter.
Day after wretched day passed, his smile, although fake, got much harder to put on. No one cared. No one ever cared. People hit the back of his head, called him names, and humiliated him. Alfred did nothing. The bell rang and Matthew made his escape to the bathroom, pulling out a cool, metal blade. He pulled up his sleeve, revealing cuts littering his arms. Running the blade against his wrist, he felt a sting but it faded quickly. Cutting a few more times, he pulled his sleeve down of his red sweat shirt. Red so no one could see the blood. He put away his knife and plastered on his fake smile. He walked out, no one noticing the faint sadness in his eyes except for a hero with bloodied fists.
It was storming. School was canceled for the day as rain and hail pounded against the roofs. Thunder clashed and Matthew let out a yelp, pulling his teddy bear from so long ago against his chest. The door slowly crept open. "Mattie? You okay?" Mathew ran over to the sound of his brother. The only one who knew of his fear of thunder. It was a silly fear but Mathew couldn't stand it. Alfred wrapped his arms around the other, determined to be his hero for everything. When Alfred protected Mattie openly, Mathew got hurt even more, so he changed tactics. It was hard not punching the people that hurt his little bro right then and there, but it was the only way to stop his pain. Sometimes it seemed not to work though. Alfred hated it. Mathew cringed as the thunder clashed again. He hated how nice Alfred was being right now. Why couldn't he care in front of others? Was it that embarrassing to be around him?
Mathew's books fell off his desk. One of Mathew's tormenters threw them there. Bending over to pick up his books, he didn't notice the movement someone made that had the bully crashing to the floor. Mathew didn't care. He just wanted to disappear. Someone bent over to help him but he ignored the person, not even looking up to see who it was. A single tear fell down. Matthew was breaking apart. He ignored the hand that was outstretched to help him up, figuring they were just going to push him down again. A look of hurt crossed the one-trying-to-help's face.
He was slammed against a wall. This wasn't the first time this happened either. People thought they could do anything to him, and in reality, they could. No one was going to stop them as Matthew was shamelessly groped and rubbed in the bathroom. Strangers he didn't even know, forcing him to do things lewd and disgusting. This was no different than any other time. Though this time, he was finally broken. Tears steamed down his face as he was thrust into, painfully and repeatedly until the man came into his body. Then the man would leave, and Mathew would shakily put on his clothes as he was raped once again. "This is the last time…" he muttered to himself, pulling out the blade once more and dragging it against his flesh. Making the blade go deep… Too deep. Moments later, he lay dead on the once white floor in a pool of his own blood. Mere seconds later, Alfred burst in. He was too late. His brother was already gone. He saw the dropped knife just a few inches away. Tears slid down his face. "I'm sorry Mattie… I'm so sorry… I failed to be your hero…" he said, grabbing the knife. A life without Mattie whom he had grown to love so much was unbearable. He slit his wrist just like Mattie's and laid next to him, grabbing his dead brothers hand as he faded into unconsciousness, joining his brother in the eternal sleep.
Dozens went to Alfred's funeral, morning the loss of a beloved student or friend. Mathew didn't have the same reception. Many asked who he was, others were happy he was gone. A pitiful two, being raised in the same family and being treated vastly different. A man came up to a grave, a look of sadness on his face as he fell down weeping. A single rose in his hand for his now dead son. The Frenchman cried over Mathew's grave as he was let out of jail the day before. A British man, Arthur, came up to Francis, putting a hand on his shoulder, and handing his dear friend a box with a stuffed, worn, polar bear. A fresh batch of tears slid down the frenchmans face as he uttered one last thing before leaving, holding the bear close.
"Papa will always love you"