He had watched his Dad bleeding out.
It happened 15 years ago; he was seventeen. He was standing in the hallway, his eyes fixed on his Dad's body, lying on the cold ground. Blood was running from his forehead through the carpet to the ground. All was read. And he did nothing but watch.
His mother was crying. Her make-up was smeared and her hands trembled. He could see the gun moving. Up, down, up, down. She stood next to his father and for the first time, besides her tears and her sobs, she did not look small near him.
Matt swallowed. He wanted to say something, but his lips were dry and his tongue heavy. Coldness had settled into his bones and for a moment he wondered if he'd turned into stone.
"Matt, turn around, please," his mother said suddenly. She had a soft voice. He'd never heard it raised against him, save for that one time he tried pot. Thinking of this incident makes his thoughts smile bitterly. It was such a triviality.
Matt slowly turned around. His body remained rigid, only his feet did two steps to the opposite direction. He was facing the living room now. Through the open door, he could see the book case. The book case with his mother's books was always his favourite place. He loved to lend books, reading them in his room all alone and feeling like he would understand his mother better. And he did, because he understood why she had shot him.
"I don't know what to do," he heard her muttering. Fabric was rubbing against each other. She was moving. Probably pacing up and down, he imagined. "I just don't know."
Suddenly she stopped. Police sirens echoed in the night. Some of the neighbours must have called the police after hearing the gun shoot. Matt breathed heavily as he realised that his mother was going to be arrested.
"Matt," her soft voice again. Her hand was touching his shoulders as she turned him around. "I'm sorry." She whispered, "Not for what I did." Tears were running down her face, "But for leaving you. Listen to me now. You have to call Christie. Ask her to come and take care of you. She will probably need a day or two to arrange everything, but she will come. Do you hear me?"
Matt nodded.
"She will come and take good care of you." Her voice trembled less and as she raised her hand to move the fingertips slightly over his face, he could see that her hand was steady now. " Just don't forget, I love you. Okay."
He nodded again. "Okay." His mother smiled and pulled him close with a force that even now still surprised him. She held him tight and only as they could hear the police car stop in front of their house, she let go of him.
"I did it for you," she said firmly, before she turned around. And with her back to him, her hands stretched out towards the police officer, Matt understood what she had actually said: 'Now do something good with your life.'
And he tried.