Hey updating again. this chapter is a bit shorter than the others.
Warnings cutting, child abuse ect...
I don't own. Though if I did... uh you don't need to know what imma thinkn'.
Chapter 3: Razors
(Gilbert's POV)
Upon arriving home I began to unpack boxes of my stuff. Unfortunately my dad had decided to be an ass. He had brought in everything except for my stuff and when I asked Ludwig about it he answered quote, 'That I was asleep and since I didn't help with anything else I had to carry in my own stuff'.
Many boxes later all of my stuff was in the basement. You herd me the basement. I get the basement. The awesome basement. Everything had been removed from the space so that I could sleep there. It was mostly just random storage.
Feeling bored I search around the boxes until I come across the box labeled 'Electronic Crap' in my awesomely scrawled handwriting. Shuffling through the box I find my laptop and plug it in, setting it on my bed.
Turning on the device and logging in to Facebook I check to see if any of my friends from New York are on. Francis, Antonio, Alfred, and Arthur were on. By the looks of it they were all video chatting together. Joining I find Arthur and Alfred arguing over something and Antonio trying to break it up but, all he could do was talk. It wasn't like he could pull them apart or anything. Francis had also joined the argument and was mainly fighting with Arthur.
They hadn't noticed me yet. That is unacceptable.
"Vell." I say loudly. "Is your conversation (it was defiantly not a conversational more of them verbally assaulting each other) more important than the awesome me vho is your best friend? It is not."
They seemed shocked then happy.
"Sup dude!"
"Hello Gilbert."
"Mi amigo!"
"Gil!"
I was greeted cheerfully like I should have been in the first place.
"Ja, hey guys! How have you all been doing, because I've been doing awesome." I ask with a smirk.
"Amazing mon ami…." Francis continued talking about a hot chick he had layed the other day. Lucky bastard.
"Nice dude." Alfred cheered.
"So Gilbert. You meet anyone cute or dashing?" Francis grins, asking in his French accent.
"Some." I answer, getting up to start unpacking. The laptop faced the entire room.
"Reeeealy?" Francis purrs, suddenly interested. Looking back at the screen I see that all four of them were seemingly interested, even Arthur a little bit.
"Vell…" I started pulling a very large flag from one of the boxes. "The chicks vere nice all though some of them vere really hot."
"Really?" Antonio asks.
"Ja."
"So, any guys worth looking at" Alfred asks.
"Not that many." I answer truthfully as I start to hang up the large Prussian flag that I had pulled out.
Alfred gives a wine. "Awwww!"
"There vas this one guy though-"
"Whowhowho!" I am cut off by Antonio.
"This guy named Maddehew." I reply.
"May I ask what is he like?" Arthur asks in his gentlemanly britishness.
"Quiet. Vell actually… he doesn't speak period."
"Realy! He's mute! How can he stand to be silent?" Antonio exclaimed in astonishment.
I chuckle knowing that he doesn't stop talking. No wonder he's astonished. He can never shut up long enough to even be quiet. Silence is far out of his reach.
"Antonio, shut up. I want to learn more about this boy that 'as caught Gilbert's attention." Francis snapped. He looked back to me.
Taking out more things from many boxes I continued. "Seems like he isn't noticed much at all. It even took a teacher time to realize vho he vas. Und he also seemed to act like if it vas normal, like he is forgotten a lot."
"Oh my god!" Alfred exclaimed. "People forget him! If anyone forget me I'd make them remember! But like they would ever forget me. I'm the hero!-"
Before Alfred continued on one of his hero rants Arthur cut in. "Shut the bloody hell up you git."
Continuing (again) "The dude looks sleep-deprived. Vonder vhat keeps him up? Anyvays he's really good at art. I mean really good. Though he seems very depressing."
"Maybe he's lonely. As you said people look like they forget him a lot. Probably needs a friend." Antonio grins. "It also looks like you like him."
"Sure." I supplied though otherwise confused.
"'e means you like, like 'im" Francis explains picking up on my confusion.
"Huh." I ask raising an eyebrow. "I'm too awesome to like anyone that vay!" Defending myself. "If it's anything it should be him to be groveling in my greatness!" I scoff.
"Sure." Francis chimes. Arthur mutters something around the word "git". Before I can start anymore he stops me. "So you make any friends!"
Deciding to go along with it I continue on about how I met Ludwig's friends and yada yada yada…
(Matthew's POV)
The monstrous pounding in my head woke me up. I was lying on the bathroom floor. A pool of blood surrounded me. The sad thing was this was a normal occurrence In my groggy state I shove myself to my feet. As to not fall I lean up against the porcelain sink. The shirt I was wearing now in tatters as new long slashes muddled my chest. The old scars covered by new. I was shaking and slipped to my knees. My vision, still blurry from tears had started to return as the blackness faded away. Sometimes I wish that it would never end.
Just blackness for the rest of my existence.
Forcing myself up for the second time. Looking around I saw the tile floor was stained with blood, the sink had crimson hand prints scratching down the sides, and the toilet still had the remains of my breakfast in it. Outside the sun was still in the sky and I was only knocked out for a couple of hours. Reaching under the sink I grab one of the spare gauzes (we had spares because John didn't want me to die from blood loss and quote, 'If I was dead who would make him food or bring him beer', lousy drunk.) and re-wrapped my torso. At least he rotates form using his whips and his bare hands. (This time I was lucky he didn't use the chains.)
Stumbling to my bedroom that can only be called a closet. It was a closet actually. All I had was a blanket, a few spare sets of clothes, my bag, Kumajirou, and the bronze maple leaf that hung arounf my neck. Changing into one of the sets of clothes I go back to the bathroom and clean off as much blood as possible.
Following the trail of blood in which had been left from me hoisting myself up the stairs. Using the guardrail that was also covered in bloodied hand prints I tripped down.
Still following the trail through the living room I push my bag and Kumajirou out of the way (so John won't destroy them like everything else.) today he didn't destroy anything, because I got home in the nick of time to be his punching bag. Once in the kitchen I set to making John and Syndy dinner. They are probably still drunk and hanging out in their bedroom.
In about half an hour the food was done and I needed to tell them that their dinner is ready. Walking past the back door had made me shudder and flinch back. Oh so many times I had been dragged back there.
Once at the door that sheathed the two ruiners of my life. I timidly knocked. The door slammed open, almost hitting me if I hadn't dodged John stood there and as I had guessed he was drunk.
"Whadda ya want?" he slurred.
I pointed towards the kitchen.
"Is dinner ready boy?"
I nodded. I ignored the fact that he called me boy and not my real probably didn't remember it and could have cared less.
John drags Syndy to the kitchen. I hear him mutter "Stupid, dumb ass mute boy."
Hoser, I thought.
They ate exceedingly slow and sometimes just randomly burst out laughing in the middle of a conversation. Morning is going to be hell for them and guess who gets to deal with it and clean up the puke. Me.
I stood on the side waiting for them to finish. I was not permitted to eat until they were done and only got what was left.
A sudden crash sounds. I look over to see a broken plate smashed on the tile.
"Ooops!" John sarcastically says. "Weess er don." Translation; we are done. John walks out with Syndy on his heels.
Walking over and carefully picking up the shards I discard them into the trash. Finding what food was left I quickly ate it. After scrubbing down the plates and silverware I move onto wiping down the table. Grabbing a bucket of soapy water and a rag I head to the back door and kneel down. Being this close to the door makes me remember what happened only hours ago. Sliding the damp rag along the dried blood I work to get all of it off.
Rinsing off the bloodied rag I move onto the trail. A long time ago I hated doing this, as time went by I learned to just clean it up as quick as possible. Getting to the stairs I clean the individual steps and the rail. In the bathroom I rid the sink of the crimson hand prints and the floor tiles.
When I was done I dumped out the bucket and grabbed my bear and bag. Setting the bag in the corner of the closet I sit down on the blanket. I pulled Kumajirou to my chest and buried my face into his fur. Hoping for no nightmares tonight, I lay down. Running my thumb over my left wrist I feel the horizontal scars. I fell into the dark abyss that is dreams.
(Gilbert's POV)
I layed back onto my bed. My unpacking had been finished and my room was livable now. Closing my eyes I welcome the bliss of sleep.
Reviews welcome. hoped you like.