Chapter two for Is This The End
A random person of requested that I make a sequel to Mattie's suicide with his families reactions. So far, I have Alfred's done. Here it is.
America's story.
Alfred had come over to his brother's place, games and movies in hand. He had he whole night planned out in his head. They would watch the movie together with a large bowl of popcorn between them, a mix between maple flavored popcorn, which was just plain popcorn seeds cooked, sorta, in maple syrup, Mattie's favorite, and extreme buttered popcorn, his own delicious treat.
"This time, I will be the hero! And you will have to cling to me!" Al boomed happily to his twin.
Matthew just smiled back and nodded slightly. "Sure thing. Whatever you say eh."
He had planned that that night he was going to be Mattie's hero. His fist banged on the door loudly, echoing through the house. Canada had a nice house, simple two bedroom, two floored, one bathroom, a library, a study, a great dining room, a large fantastic kitchen that could fit at least five people with room to spare, and a simple living room with a good sized TV.
No one was answering the door. Odd. Alfred grabbed the key Matt usually kept under a fake, yet real looking, rock and unlocked the door, going inside.
"Matt!" he called. "Come on! Dude, I have games and movies for us!" No response.
To the basement.
His feet trudged and shuffled over to the livingroom carpet, his fingers tracing over the vine like pattern along the creamy walls. It was hard to believe Mattie had painted every toom in the house, it was all so beautiful. Alfred's attention drifted towards the basement door, the color of ivy.
The basement was Matties favorite room in the house. In the basement, which was large, had a lot of Mattie's personality to it. The closest wall had held atleast six different shirts of hockey players, signed too, that Mattie had collected. The middle wall was about dull. A maple leave was painted on the wall, about the size of an average American flag, maybe a little bigger, while on either side, from the wall corners to about four feet from the maple leaf was just orange. His wall itself was a Canadian flag. Al had to admit it was pretty cool and showed he truly was a Canadian. Below the maple leaf was a couch of a dark burgundy color that held two people on it. The oposing wall was simple. White wall, only in the middle of it was a large flat screen TV with surround sound that could be heard all the way through the house when Mattie was watching his games. Sometimes Al would bribe his brother into letting him play his games on it, usually worked like a charm since Al knew what buttons to push. The remaining wall held all of Matties prized posessions, the limited edition hockey sticks.
Opening the door, Alfred stepped down the carpetted stairs and descended into the basement. His jaw dropped in shock. All the shirts were gone, limited edition hockey sticks were gone. The burgundy couch had plastic covering over it, in the middle of the floor. The Canadian flag was painted over and gone. The television was still there. Alfred wandered about the room, scanning it all. Very clean. He paused in front of the TV, taking note that there was a sticky note on the side of the screen.
"Al, I'm leaving you my television. Take good care of it." -Mattie.
Worry arose in his mind. Mattie? Giving him his precious hockey T.V.? Something was definitely wrong. Alfred moved away from the TV, too alarmed to be happy about the new gift. His boots pressed down on the stairs as he made his way up, back to the cleaned out livingroom, the stairs groaning under each step. It was then that Alfred noticed that the living room couched were covered as well, as was the television.
"What is going on?" Al thought. "Did he just move? No... He couldn't have left his TV."
Alfred decided that it was time for a thurough investigation of the house, so he set to work, finding everything just as empty as the basement.
To the kitchen.
Alfred's hand brushed the marble counter, feeling its smooth surface. Very rarely did he feel a scratch. Matt was always good about not cutting the counters. Everything was so clean, the counters, the cupboards, the oven, the stove, the fridge, everything. The fridge was empty when he opened the white door on oth sides, fridge and freezer. Deciding to check the cupboards and pantry, Alfred opened and checked them all, each void of food.
A sinking feeling in his gut made him fear the worst for his brother.
To the bathroom and towel closet.
Alfred snuck a peek into the towel closet. Empty. No towels? The beating in his heart began to rush. Mattie always had fresh towels on stock for baths or showers for baths or showers, for himself, and any of his guests. Alfred's hand shot towards the door knob to the bathroom and threw the door open, eyes darting around the lovely bathroom. It, also, had marble counters, each one cleaned and shining. There were three mirrors around the sink, showing all around the room. Al stared blankly at the empty bathroom. No tooth brush, toothpaste, no brush, shampoo, body wash, or razor. Not even the shower curtains were there anymore.
The hallway... And bedroom.
The walls of the hallway were bare, striped of all paintings and pictures, obviously thuroughly scrubbed to get rid of the outline from the pictures. They had been there long enough. At the end of the long hallway awaited Mattie's bedroom, always so warm and greeting with a lovely scent of maple.
Finally he paused in front of Mattie's room door, his hand shaky as he turned the crystal door knob. Matthew got them a long time ago, his French blood drawing him to it naturally. The door did not make a sound over the light tan carpet. His baby blue eyes widened behind his square glasses. The scene reflected in the lenses of his square glasses. A scent reached his nose, a horrible scent, a cross between feces, a rich "blood" smell, and a strong bacterial smell. When he opened his mouth to gasp in shock, the scent scraped and rolled across his tongue, making him want to gag and retch in digust.
His brother. Dead on the floor, body pale. Al stepped back, leaning against the wall and sliding down, hand over his mouth, blocking out the scent. Tears slid down his face as he stared at the cold... Lifeless corpse of his brother. His brothers eyes. They were dark, almost black and a little sunk in, his skin paler then a ghost!
"How could this... Happen? Mattie... Was always supposed to be there!" Alfred shouted, shaking with pain. From the looks of his brother, he had probably been dead for about a week, based on the look, and the smell.
His beloved brother... Was gone. How was he supposed to tell Arthur? Francis? Did they not care for Mattie? Would they even care now that hes gone? One thing he wondered was... How long? How long had he been planning this? How long had he been... Dead. Alfred's heart ached as the realization hit. He was never going to see his brother ever again. Never going to cling to him. Never going to watch movies with him. That sweet smile... That sweet laugh... It was all... Gone...
"Hey Alfred?" Mattie had said to him.
"Yeah, Matt?" he had responded back.
"What if... You thought of death?" the meek voice of Canada spoke, the voice ringing in his ears.
"Don't be silly! I would never think of death! Life is too awesome! And if your thinking of it, things will get better, whatever your problem is!" He smiled, but then frowned, as though suddenly not recognizing the boy in front of him. "Oh hell! Its another ghost!"
Why didn't he see it before... His brother had talked to him. His brother had tried to get help! He had ran to him for help! And what did he do to him? He... He backstabbed his brother. The guilt was already eating away at his heart.
Alfred got up, deciding to go up to the corpse. He paused right next to his brother before kneeling down, taking his brother into his arms, ignoring the horrible rotting stench. "Don't... Don't worry Mattie... I'm here... And I'll always be here..." The tears kept coming once more, slipping onto the body of Matthew Williams. Alfred cried until his eyes couldn't cry any more. Deciding to clean the body, Alfred got up, lifting the limp, dangling body in his arms as he carried him from the room to the bathroom, gently laying him down into the tub. Alfred felt the pang in his heart even more as he thought of the fact that he will never share another moment with his brother. Ever again...
He just couldn't believe Mattie was gone... Truly... Forever... Gone.