I remember those days. The days that I've sat in the shade, watching the sky. To open my eyes to the world, as the sky cried. Hearing the wind whisper to me.
Telling me, "Just remember…" Honestly, what was I suppose to remember? Even my mind is pounding, screaming at me to remember something. What was it?
Alfred used to always tell me that either, "That's your brain telling you to remember to do your work duh." or, "Maybe you should tie a string around your finger. So your headache won't be such a bother." That's Alfred for you, a useless git.
I wouldn't be asking him anymore. I've tried and it's just a worthless waste of time.
All Alfred wants to do is sit down and eat fattening foods, and play those childish video games. What a bore. I prefer reading a 3,000 page book about dark magic and witchcraft. It's something not only I love, but also relate to. I really love magic, especially black magic. The way it's dark power sparkles, why its feels on my finger tips, the way it brings me total control. How my mind inhales the beauty of its power. I also feel as if I'm free when I have my black magic to play with or use on others. The people who don't believe in magic shall pay someday. They'll have their bitter taste someday soon. But for now I need them to help me remember the forgotten.
When I ask Allistor or even Kiku, they just smile and say, "Oh forgetful Arthur."
I am ; Amnesia Sir; Scatterbrained; you name it. I have the entire list of favorite name's one may say, when it comes to my memory. My brother Allistor is the one who teases me the most about it.
"Silly, silly Arthur…" Allistor chanted.
Sometimes in this spot I lay on, I'll fall sleep under the shade, only to open my eye's again to a boy looking sadden. His eyes are empty looking and he is holding a dusty white stuffy that is faded in colour.
He would sit next to me, lay down and then his eyes fall into a gaze with mine. Shutting my eyes tight, fearing for the worst to only to open for him to be not there anymore. But instead, when I do open them it's nighttime. I see the clouds darkening, I hear the thunder starting to getting louder, rain smashing, screaming of the wind. I can smell the scent of falling rain from the distance. I inhale the thick cold oxygen that feeds my lungs until it's full.
"Have I fallen asleep again? I forgot it's already supper time. Oh well, time to be getting home than." As I grab my soaked school bag and sweater, I stand there watching the rain one last time.
This is the problem…that boy only appears out of nowhere. His cold chilly violet eyes and his hair, a silky blonde is way too similar to someone I've known once. That was years ago I suppose. I sometimes wonder if he knows me, the boy. Because I feel like I've known him from somehow before. Isn't it strange? I've never met this boy or I've think I've never met the boy.
I sometimes feel like he is watching me. Everywhere I go, he'll sometimes be there. At work, school, home, almost anywhere that boy is there at less once. He'll suddenly be there, staring at me, whispering, "Have you really forgotten about me Arthur? You've promised." That was the day I realize, he knows my name.
The therapist I've used to talk to about the boy, he suggested I have Schizophrenia.
I couldn't believe him, I just couldn't. I was so sure I didn't have Schizophrenia. How could I? Just because I started to see and hear someone who didn't exist, did not mean I have Schizophrenia. But he told me I have some of the symptoms; hallucinations, disorganized speech, negative symptoms, depression, forgetful and social with drawl. I course I told the git that I've did not have Schizophrenia and that if he gave me the chance I could prove it to him. Plus he had said I had only some of the symptoms, which for me wasn't enough to determine that I have Schizophrenia or not. He didn't listen to me and was about to send me off to treatment just like that. But I've convinced not too.
Here I am today, still seeing the boy. He is still watching me I'm sure of it and no one believes me of course. I've stopped talking to the councilor about him. Alfred has come to me, telling me he is worried for me and that maybe I should go to the doctor or something. He told me he feels like my condition is getting worst.
Alfred these days starts to look at me like I'm some kind of dangerous creature. One night as I was going off to bed with my flying mint bunny, in one of the rooms, to be exact in the computer room, I find Alfred searching various things on Google, I couldn't get a close enough view of what he was looking at, in the morning, I go through the internet history to only find myself reading about people with Schizophrenia. Reading a bit of what the it supposedly is and what it does and who it affects.
I close to computer scene, and go looking for Alfred.
They may see or hear things that don't exist, speak in strange or confusing ways, believe that others are trying to harm them, or feel like they're being constantly watched.
"You're crazy! There is nothing wrong with me!" I scream at Alfred later that morning, "How could you say that to me Alfred? Huh? I thought I could trust you!"
"Arthur! You think you have some magical powers!-Or special abilities-whatever! At first I thought you were joking around, but after five years of being friends, I realize you weren't joking. Dude its freaky! You are also starting to see things! Arthur… you need help."
In many cases of schizophrenia, it may appear in the late teens or early adulthood. Schizophrenia can also appear for the first time in middle age or even later in their life.
"Arthur I am sorry but…maybe you should-"
"Alfred enough! I am perfectly fine!" I snap. "Leave me alone bloody git! And stop worrying. "
Schizophrenia is more intense for men than for women.
Schizophrenia makes it difficult and even possibly frightening to settle in the activities of the daily life, between the real and the imaginary.
People with schizophrenia may withdraw from the outside world. Or become confused or even act out of fear.
He told me that it wasn't like that at all. He told me he is just worried, and there is nothing wrong about worrying over your friend. I know that is a lie and he is only afraid that I may hurt him. What a coward.
As the days go by, Alfred tries over and over to convince me to go to treatment, or whatever I can do to get support to help me get well.
What is going on? Does it not matter that I feel like I know this boy from somewhere!? That he is actually there talking to me? That I feel like I forgot something about my life?! Something important?
The only person who hasn't been telling me I need help is Feliciano. Who I haven't seen in over a year.
"Are you seeing him again Arthur?" Feliciano asked me on that April morning of last year, "You've forgotten about that day haven't you ve? That's alright. It's probably better that way, anyway."
Just when I was going to ask him, "Forgotten what?!" He waved me goodbye and ran off to Ludwig I suppose. Off to Germany for a year or two I told by his brother. Lovino was it? He seem angered about his brother running off with Ludwig, it was like he was going to explode in rage. I didn't want to risk any chances of being blown up, so I took off before Lovino could.
I really wish Feliciano was here, so I could ask him what I've forgotten. I feel like Feliciano is the only one who can help me at this point. I need answers. And I need them fast, or Alfred might send me off to treatment soon. Because Alfred is supposedly worried for me. Like bloody hell I'd believe that. Not even in millions of years.
Closing my eyes, I mutter to myself; "What have I forgotten?" I feel as if I could burst into tears anytime soon. My heart starts to become cold, empty. Something feels out of place, something feels missing. Or someone.
"Have you really forgotten about me Arthur? You've promised. Even if you promised, I know you'll remember. You can't forget completely can you?" I turn to my side, there he is again. His cold looking, pale lips form a very weak, weak smile. He has deep bags under his dead eyes, that is visible to the naked eye, because of his snow skin. It's kind of saddening, almost wants to make you cry. I look toward the tree not wanting to look at him anymore.
I stand there and listen to him instead.
"Just listen to me…try to remember…for me. Please…"
I'm trying lad. It's impossible. I am sorry.
"What have I forgotten?" Fearful, I turn to look to him again, he's gone. Vanish, like ash in the wind.
Just as I asking myself this, my phone started to ring. Picking up my phone from my pocket I happen to notice an unusually caller ID. Francis? Why was that frog doing calling me out of nowhere while I was deep into my thoughts? Wasn't he in Paris or something along the lines of that? Stupid git.
Sighing angrily, I answer the phone," What do you bloody want frog?!"
"Bonjour to you too Arthur! Comment êtes-vous?" He asks in a cheerful tone, as if he were attempting to mock me already. Because that is Francis for you and in my current state, I am in no mood for insults right now.
"Speak English and…I've been fine." I grumbled out, "So frog, why are calling me during this time of the day?"
He pauses for a second before replying, "Oh oui! I was in town and I was wondering if I could-"
"Absolutely not."
"I haven't even asked yet-"
"I already know what you're going to ask. You cannot stay at my place!" I shouted into my phone, the rain around me is pouring faster. My hair is soaked along with my other clothing.
"It's just for tonight! Besides don't you need a ride home, non? I can see you, outside of my car window. You're going to catch the flu if you stand in the rain any longer Arthur." I turn to see him in his silky black car. Francis shuts his phone, "And you know that Arthur, so hurry up and get in!"
I become pale, was he watching me?
"I-I don't need it." I start to slowly pace myself in the opposite direction. What the hell? Why was he watching me? I start become nervous. I can feel it in my bones, my veins, my heart starts to beat faster. Breath quickens.
"Don't be stupid Arthur! Your house is twelve blocks away from here!"
"I-I said I don't need it frog! Now go away!" I feel as if I should starting to runaway, at a "safe" distance. Why am I being nervous now? Just moments ago I had a strong, powerful voice. Now what am I doing? I don't even know. Why am I asking so many questions?
"Alfred told me everything Arthur! I promise I mean no harm!" Francis saids, as he gets out of his car.
I stop in my tracks startled. Alfred did what now? Francis slowly makes his way toward me.
"He told me everything. I'm only here to help Arthur. Now get in the car."
Alfred told him? B-But why? I've thought I could trust him.
"Arthur-"
Now even Francis knows. He must think I'm a dying pet or something. I cannot lose to Francis, not this time. My blood starts to heat up, by my eyes also start to tear up once more. I cannot take this shit anymore.
My feet take off dashing in the opposite direction of Francis.
"Arthur!" Francis calls runs into his car.
I am not going home. I cannot trust anyone anymore.
I run down streets, and streets of cars and people. The rain for some reason pours harder, stupid Alfred! I don't even know where I am running to, but I let my feet take full control.
As I take one final turn, I stop and seat myself in an ally deep in the downtown area to catch my breath.
Soon I found myself crying, betrayal is all I could feel. I've thought Alfred would know better than to tell Francis about this. Especially Francis! I'm sure soon everyone else is going to find out. Because now Francis knows, and he can have such a big mouth at times. Especially if it's about him! Blasted frog! Piece of trash! Green baguettes! I hate him so much!
That's when I realize, What do I do then? If Francis tells everyone? I should have known better to not have trusted Alfred.
I find myself tearing up faster. My eyes start to become puffy, red and gross looking. Damn it all! I let the tears fall endlessly down my cheeks.
I feel so alone.
"Arthur don't cry." A voice whispers, "I'm sure Alfred didn't mean it. You know how he is."
The boy. The thing I've been seeing, is sitting right beside me. My heart starts to pound fearfully.
"Please don't cry Arthur. Everything is going to be fine, I promise."
His dead violet eyes are almost welcoming. They are so familiar, I swear.
"Okay?"
I am talking to the non-existence again. "W-Who are you?" I ask him at last.
He looks to me. Silent. Upset. Almost heartbroken. His eyes more sadden and dead than ever. From his pale lips, he whispers "I am Matthew Williams."