Matthew's hands were hands were shaking before he'd even started writing.

I don't want to have to keep going with this.

Gilbert changed over the next few months. He stopped bringing the gifts and the beatings got worse. There was one night – the first of many – when he forced me down onto the bed and-

He stopped. Just thinking about it was too painful. He didn't want to write it down. Sighing, Matthew nibbled on the edge of one of the cookies Arthur had brought for him. He had been pleased to hear they were shop-bought and that the Englishman hadn't attempted to make them himself. Eventually he started writing again.

I remember lying there just thinking that eventually he'd notice my tears and realise how much he was hurting me. In the end though I figured it out. Gilbert knew how much pain I was in. He just didn't care.


Author's Notes: Oh Mattie... my poor little Mattie... sorry this chapter is stupidly short but there's not much else I knew how to expand it.