Forever Yours
By: Ezio Bonnefoy
The sky was dark. No stars where out tonight. Only the blurred silhouette of a moon lit up the autumn sky. Beneath it a Canadian boy was strutting the streets of a busy New York. His hands where in his pockets and his face in the wind. Anger and irritation pumped in his veins as he crossed the street.
"Damn Alfred..." He muttered for himself. The swelling feeling of fury filled him, from the chest out to his nearly frozen fingertips. He started to walk faster hoping the unpleasant feeling would fume out of him. Matthew was awfully upset. His stupid brother had humiliated him yet again. Spitting out something vulgar without knowing the affect it had. Of course, his father Arthur had thought nothing of it until Matthew stormed out of the small apartment complex with the words: "I'm going for a walk!" He was suppose to yell: "I hate you!" But couldn't manage to say it. It was a little too much, he wasn't that angry. In fact he just needed to be alone for a while. Somewhere alone without the hero, as Matthews brother called himself. Kicking an old beercan, Matthew got rid of some of his frustration. He didn't hate Alfred, he just was too much sometimes.
Matthew stopped for a second and viewed his surroundings. He'd been walking for 40 minutes straight without any destination in mind. Strutting around left and right as he pleased. He scanned the streets and houses that where around him. Matthew quickly forgot his irritating brother when he realized that he had no idea where he was. He quickly pulled out his phone. No network, the GPS wasn't going to work. Crap. He started walking again, scanning the area. A sign was placed at the end of the street saying: Oxenstierna st. Both surprised and terrified by the name Matthew spun around. Was this even America? He didn't know. A foreign name and a foreign place. He could be halfway to China for all he knew. Following the empty street he realized there where no taxis around either. Double crap. How was he suppose to come home now?
The houses around him seemed larger now. The streetlights flickered just like in a horror film. Oh God. Matthew walked faster. He didn't know where, just somewhere away from here. The wind was howling, or was it a stray cat? Paranoia got its grip on Matthew, making him see things in the corner of his eyes. He didn't admit it, and he properly never would, but he was afraid of the dark. Not the darkness itself, but the unknown that lied beneath it. With rapid breath and heart stuck in his throat he finally saw redemption. A bus stop. Almost running to the savior of cold steel he felt hope again. Matthew adjusted his glasses and red the bus schedule. It would be there soon, he'd just have to wait until it arrived.
"Hallelujah." He sighed and leaned against the post. A wind shook him and a few leaves passed by. Damn, it was cold. He hadn't put on his mittens before he left home. Home. Matthew felt bitter only thinking about it. His long walk had made him forget his actual life a bit. It was all so boring. Wake up, go to school, get picked on by bullies, attend class, eat lunch, more classes, go home, get picked on by Alfred, eat dinner, study, sleep. It all went in a sort of loop. Matthew had tried not putting so much thought of it, but it made him sick. Why would anyone want to live like this? The truth was, he didn't want to go home at all. He could just keep walking until he dropped dead.
A car raced by Matthew in a furious speed, taking him back to the present, to the creepy and eery street he was standing on. He checked the time adjusting his posture. It felt as if it went slower, almost wanting him to get attacked on the street. He sighed. It's just an illusion.
Suddenly he heard footsteps. Matthew turned his head only to snap it back again. For 20 minutes he hadn't met a soul and now, on the darkest and most frightening place he had been on all night, there was a man. A man walking towards him. But it was okay, as long as he played it cool. There was nothing to worry about. The possible-murderer-rapist-serial-killer-gang member-thief was just going to pass by, then the bus would come and take Matthew home. There was nothing to fear. Nothing to be afraid of.
Well, it was until the possible-murderer-rapist-serial-killer-gang member-thief walked up to him.
"Excuse me. Do you have a light?" Prepared to fall on his knees and beg for his life, giving his money and watch to this stranger, Matthew instead just simply responded the strange question with a confused look. The man, or the possible-murderer-rapist-serial-killer-gang member-thief, had a cigarette stuck between his teeth. Matthew's brain processed the information once again before he answers the man.
"Um...N-No sorry." Matthew turned his head to the street again. He exhaled. Relived by the question he'd been asked. The man wasn't going to kill him and steal all his belongings. He only wanted to smoke, Jesus Christ. This was to much for Matthews weak heart. He had feared for his life a second ago.
"Oh. Well, you don't look like someone who smokes." The man sounded a bit disappointed. Matthew felt calmer again. Now he'd just leave. That tranquil feeling didn't last long though as the stranger next to him didn't walk away. Instead he pulled up a lighter from his own pocket and lit his cigarette. Hearing the click and flame Matthew turned his head. Dazzled he blinked a few times, staring at the glowing end of the nicotine filled stick.
"May I ask, if you did have a lighter, why'd you ask me for one?" Crap. Matthew regretted his question. He was afraid of what answer he would get. Thoughts of all the horror films he had been forced to watch together with Alfred popped up in his head. This is the part where the bad guy reveal himself and tells the innocent victim their going to be kidnapped because he didn't have a lighter or something. Preparing for his death sentence Matthew looked into his killers eyes.
"Excuse for a conversation." He answered flatly. Matthew blinked yet again. What the hell? Was this some kind of joke? The stranger smiled and continued.
"Well, now that I got your attention we might as well chat a little, non?" Matthew was still baffled. Excuse for conversation? Might as well chat? This guy was nuts. Matthew sighed and turned his head back, not answering him. He felt the strangers eyes on him. Scanning him. Was he looking for something to steal?
"You're not from around here, are you boy?" Matthew noticed his accent. He kind of sounded like his Irish uncle. His speech wasn't slurred like the drunks, but he rolled the R's way back. And he didn't pronouns the H as well. Now Matthew processed what the man actually said. Boy? What did he mean by boy? He was a gown man not a boy!
"I-I was about to say the same t-thing to you, France is it?" The man frowned with the stick in his mouth. That's what you get! Matthew felt like he had the situation under control, just asking him a question in return. Yea, he was cool alright. Cool as the Canadian snow. Cool. He kind of forgot the person next to him for a few seconds until he opened his mouth again.
"Ah! France...Yes, France. Paris actually." Matthew noticed a hesitance in his answer. Why didn't he just say yes? Wait, was he an illegal immigrant? Matthew turned to him to see what he looked like. Almost as if he could see if he was illegal or not. The man breathed out a cloud of smoke in front of him. He had blonde hair, reaching his shoulders and what appeared to be a stubble. It was a bit hard for Matthew to see in the darkness.
"So, what is a young man like you doing out here in the middle of the night?" The stranger persuaded with the conversation. Matthew quickly turned his head when their eyes met. He didn't like eye contact. Hell, it was awkward enough just having a stranger talking to him
"Well...ehm...I-I was walking." The man chuckled.
"And now you're taking the bus back? That's a bit strange, don't you think?" Strange? He's the one who's strange! Asking for a lighter he didn't even need and talking to someone he just met.
"I-It was a long stroll. Besides..." The Canadian crossed his arms and cleared his throat to toughen up. "What are you doing here?" Aw yea. He was cool again. Matthew peeked at the smoker from the corner of his eye to see if he reacted as he did before.
"Work." The man took another sip of the cigarette, staring out on the street.
"Work?" Matthew dropped his pose. "What kind of job ends this late in the evening?" The man laughed softly again.
"Well." He looked back at Matthew and smiled. "I'm starting to ask that myself." What did he mean by that? Matthew was deeply confused. This man was odd. Smiling and acting so kindly towards him. Jesus, he didn't even know who he was! The stranger put his cigarette between his teeth and held out his hand.
"Hey, I'm Francis." Matthew just stared at the hand for a few seconds, then at the stranger, then back at the hand. "What's your name? I suppose you don't want me to call you stranger?" He said smiling. Well, Matthew had called him stranger and possible-murderer-rapist-serial-killer-gang member-thief so it only seamed fair if he called him something like that. After blinking a few times he shook Francis hand.
"Matthew." He said bluntly and stared into nothingness to hide his embarrassment. Why did a stranger, no:Why did Francis want to know Matthew's name anyways. He isn't some kind of interesting man. Just someone waiting for the bus.
"Well, Matthew." Francis said it with a strong accent. It sounded more like Mattheu. He couldn't even pronouns his name correctly."Looks like your bus is here." Matthew hadn't noticed the upcoming vehicle.
"Oh!" He smiled and waved to the chauffeur to stop. He knew that they where sometimes old and didn't see well. Especially in the dark. The breaks screeched and the bus stopped. Walking up to it Matthew noticed Francis didn't follow.
"You're not hopping on?" Francis shook his head and lifted his hand smiling. Matthew stared for a moment, he then forced a smiled and lifted his hand in return and walked on the bus.
-x-
Streetlights passed as Matthew stared out into the night. The light swilled over him in a constant motion, illuminating him and reflecting in his glasses. As the bus made it's way closer to home, Matthew felt like time was running out. It was calm and quiet inside the bus. In fact, it was only him and the driver and some old man in the back. The atmosphere in there was tranquil. No Alfred bugging him, no Arthur asking him about everything, no bullies picking on him. It was just peaceful for once. Shit. He didn't want to go home. This bus ride could take forever and he wouldn't mind. But he had to get home. To his life.
Matthew sighed. Back to reality. To shitty, boring reality. A feeling of uneasiness filled him. Just the thought of this thing called reality. He had thought of something more to life than this. When he was young he wanted to become a doctor, a Noble price winner and an astronaut. Now he just wanted to disappear. I felt as if nothing mattered anymore. Was anything suppose to matter? Is this the way you should feel when you grow up? He didn't know. What he did know was he didn't like it.
Having such a bitter way of looking at life drained his energy. This was a problem since he didn't get much sleep. He couldn't eat ether because he was just never hungry. Everything just tasted like cardboard in his mouth anyway. Except for pancakes with maple syrup. Gosh, he loved it. Sadly though Arthur didn't make it that often. He didn't make any tasty food at all for that matter. And that wasn't just Matthews opinion, Alfred didn't like it ether.
The bus stopped. Matthew woke from his deep thoughts and looked at the road outside. Almost there. The old man slowly got of the bus before the doors closed and it started rolling again. Matthew started to count down. 10 blocks left. 9 blocks left. 8 blocks left. It was just like a ticking time bomb.
Matthew saw his block coming up. Crap. His stomach turned. Here we go. He got of the bus, feeling the cold weather outside hit him as soon as the door opened. But the chilly weather was nothing compared to the pain in Matthew's chest. He stared up at the apartment complex, fixing his eyes on one of the windows. It was still lit. Arthur hadn't gone to sleep yet. Damn, he had to face him. Dropping his head he felt as there was a massive weight on his shoulders. Anxiety, that's the only way he could describe the feeling. Fearing something and wanting to flee as fast as possible.
He took a deep breath. Okay, he could do this. His boots squeaked against the concrete stairs. The sound echoed and grew larger the further up it came. Matthew stopped at the second floor, seeing the familiar oak door. Kirkland residence. The Canadian boy stood there only staring at the name. He finally swallowed and pushed down the heavy handle. It creaked. Of coursed it creaked, everyone in the whole freaking building had to know he was coming home late without any logical explanation.
"Your home." Matthew barely manage to close the door before Arthur popped his head out of the kitchen.
"Yea. Sorry. I lost track of time." The boy's voice was lowered, turning his word into mere whispers.
"No worries lad. Um..." Arthur tasted the words in his mouth before he spoke them. Almost like he was afraid of saying the wrong things.
"Was it a good walk?" He sounded angry. Matthew hung his jacket on a hook placed in the small hallway, avoiding eye contact before sighing and bending down to untie his shoelaces.
"Yea. I kind of needed some time on my own." He could feel his fathers eyes on him as he took of his shoes. When he finally stood up he saw that Arthur leaned against the door frame to the kitchen. Like he was waiting for him. His bushy brows where as serious as always. He looked away cleansing his throat.
"There are leftovers for you in the fridge." The suspense in the air almost made it hard to breathe. Matthew knew he was angry. Arthur tried to hide it, but Matthew could tell.
"Ah. Thank you." Matthew pinched the sleeves on his red hoodie.
"I could heat it up for you if you like." Alfred sighed and looked directly at Matthew. It felt as if his mossy eyes stared right through him.
"No, thank you. It's fine. I'll just go to sleep." Matthew said, hiding behind his glasses and blonde hair. As he tried to walk past him, Arthur grabbed him by the arm. Stopping the boy and holding him in a firm grip.
"Matthew."
"I'm not hungry." Matthew said quietly, feeling how his heart sank in is chest.
"You're never hungry..." Arthur's words turned Matthew's blood cold. He just wanted to disappear into thin air.
"C-Could you let g-go of my arm please?"
"Matthew please just talk to me." The Brit's voice was seriously low. "What's going on?"
A thousand emotions rushed through Matthew's body making him shout. "Nothing!" Surprised by how loud he was Matthew covered his mouth for a brief moment, only now noticing his hand was trembling.
"Don't lie to me, Matthew." Holding back tears Matthew sighed. He turned his head with the blonde bangs covering his eyes.
"It's...nothing. I-I just need some sleep. L-Let go Arthur...Please." Despite being taller than Arthur, Matthew felt small next to him. And when the Britt straighten his back he felt microscopic. His otherwise cozy glace had turned cold.
"Fine." He slowly let go of Matthew. The boy waited until his hand had completely let go of his arm. He let out a light breath, before walking towards his room. Opening his door Arthur cleansed his throat.
"You can't keep going like this." Matthew body stopped. Those words carved into his chest. He turned around before saying quietly.
"I know." Arthur sighed, putting his hands into his pockets.
"Goodnight." He smiled kindly, raising his bushy brows.
"Goodnight." Matthew lowered his head and disappeared into his dark room. As soon as he closed the door he heard Arthur mumble on the other side.
"Bloody hell."
Non: No