"No, Al, no!" Mathew cried, straining against his bonds. He was locked to his bed, which was bolted to the concrete floor. He writhed against the handcuffs, trying to move away from his brother. Tears were forming in his eyes, heart in his ears, his stomach in his throat. "Please, Al, please!" he sobbed. Adrenaline pumped through his veins, fear driving him wild and frantic.
Mathew's older twin sat on the wooden chair beside the bed, taking long and calm drags of his cigarette, breathing slowly, the stream of smoke billowing out and fading. Alfred looked exactly the same as Mathew, or rather, Mathew looked like Alfred. Mathew always had been the twin who had the longer hair, usually wavy, but he had been assimilated. He now looked almost exactly like Alfred. Except for his body frame and his eye colour,which was a violet blue.
"Don't you wish these calmed me down like they used to?" Alfred finally asked. It was like his voice petrified Mathew and the younger went still, hyperventilating and sobbing. Alfred reached out to grab Mathew by the forearm.
Mathew tensed, breathing deeply, until Alfred pressed the end of his cigarette to his arm. Al ground it deep into his skin, searing the flesh, and singeing his arm hair. Alfred took off the cigarette, and brought it to his lips again, taking another drag of the inhalant. The end of the stick went red hot with each inhale, and Alfred pressed the end into the same spot again. Mathew screamed the entire time, the smell making him sick to his stomach. His stomach heaved, and bile rose to his lips, but he didn't let it spill out, for fear that Alfred would punish him more.
Finally, Alfred stopped. He rose up, tossing the key to the cuffs onto the bed beside Mathew, just barely out of his reach. He silently moved to the door, opening up to the stairs that led to the main floor of the house.
Before he left he turned around and chucked the cigarette at Mathew. "Fag!" he spat. Then he turned around and slammed the door shut behind him.
Mathew, able to wriggle the matress just enough for the key to his release to come tumbling down into his palm, uncuffed himself and rushed to the little cramped spare bathroom to force the bile out of his throat and stomach. Mathew coughed as his innards churned and seized and his body shuddered, covered with sweat. He looked around the room that he would be liberated from shortly. It was cold and barren. The walls where plain and the bed was old and worn. There was a ratty old rug in the middle of the room that, despite how often Mathew had tried to clean it, looked, and smelled, like piss.
Mathew inspected his arms, the newest burn gleaming with blood and puss leaking out of the bright red circle. It had joined the other red circles on his arms, some more faded than others. He was starting to get used to the burnings, although that didn't make them any less painful. He pulled up his shirt and inspected the other marks. A bruise here and there from Alfred's beatings, a couple scars, and a scar where his neck met his shoulder, where Alfred had slipped with the knife when he held it to his neck for the first time.
"Yes... It's too bad he missed." Mathew chuckled darkly as he absent-mindedly stroked the leathery skin.
Mathew couldn't help but think of a better time. Or at least, he couldn't help but think of a time when the better ended. He and Alfred used to be best friends at some point. As children, they were part of the perfect family. Loving parents, a good house, lots of sunshine and picnics. Mathew thought he remembered his parents as good looking, well adjusted people. He thought he remembered his mother being soft, beautiful, and gentle. His father was always there, always proud and prepared for any fatherly duties. Truth be told, Mathew didn't know what they were like anymore, he only knew for sure what came after, and he couldn't even remember their faces.
It all began, the basement, the torture, the horrid slew of negative emotions, on a beautiful summer day. Mathew remembered how they were going on vacation. It was the start of another adventure by the Williams family! The radio was singing softly as Mathew and Alfred played eye-spy in the back seat of their station wagon. Mathew couldn't remember where they were going, or if they were really going anywhere. It didn't matter anymore, anyways. It was just when they had all starting singing along to the song on the radio when it happened.
All Mathew knew was wiped out in a secon, as a drunk driver, yes, in the middle of the day, rammed into them. Mathew remembered that moment clearly, almost in slow motion. The car smashed into the passenger side of the car, closest to his mother who was turned around to check on them. The force of the impact snapped her neck, killing her instantly. Alfred hit his head on the door, knocking himself unconscious. The force of the impact rammed the car into a telephone pole, pressing it hard into his father.
Mathew remembered his father didn't die straight way. He just bled to death.
The drunk driver was the worst, though. Since he didn't wear a seatbelt, he flew through the windshield and landed on the hood of the William's family station wagon, mangled, broken, and very dead. Mathew, of course, remained unscathed, other then bruises all up his arm from crashing into the door, and scratches from the shattered glass.
Mathew walked beside the policeman as the adult escorted him to the ambulance where Alfred lay still, an oxygen mask strapped to his face.
"Why does Alfred have that on his face?" he asked the man.
"He needs it for... he needs it so the paramedics can make sure he'll be okay until they get him to the hospital," the solemn policeman said to him. Mathew kept trying to look back at the body on the hood of the car. Mathew knew it was a bad thing for the man to be there, but he just couldn't look away, even if the policeman kept trying to keep him looking at his brother.
Mathew couldn't remember how the police ended up with their belongings, and he couldn't remember how it was decided that they would go to live with Pastor Jones.
Alfred, wounded and lost, completely opened up to Pastor Jones, allowing himself to be adopted and taught the ways of God and the bible. Mathewremained Mathew Williams. He rejected the Pastors teachings. From that, Mathew himself was rejected in the pieced together family. He became invisible. He tried to remain cheerful, but it was hard when he kept being flat-out ignored. It became even harder when the Pastor started making night-trips into his room.
Mathew lay still, holding his breath, hoping that if he stayed still enough, Pastor Jones would leave him. He cursedhimself when his lungs practicly burst, shooting the air out and bringing in another breath to be held. He trembled under the pastor's touch, sliding up his leg, and in to his no-no zone. Mathew's heart beat in his ears, and he prayed. He prayed to the pastor's god, praying for him to make the man stop. He clutched his sheets, shocks going up his body. And then the pastor left. He left Mathew to cry in peace.
Brought back to the present, Mathew sprayed himself with areosol deodorant and threw on his long-sleeved red black shirt, and his red hoodie as well. He checked the time. He only had 3 hours until Alfred would finish church and his shift at the salvation army. He had enough time to run down to the video store. He would have to rent an old movie, one that could last him a week.
Faced with the prospect of getting out of his own personal dungeon and actually being entertained caused Mathew to gain a bit of a spring in his step. He trotted out of his house and towards the little strip mall close by, more cheerful than he had been lately, even though the burn still stung.