I had to say that when I woke up I felt pretty fucking awesome. Last night had been fantastic. Of course there was some very blatant awkwardness between us, but I was pretty sure I was making progress in making Matthew trust me.
And it wasn't hard either.
Matthew was actually really fun to talk to; when you got past his quietness and really focused on him he seemed to grow under the spotlight, every thought that he expressed was interesting just because he was saying it, because every word was thought out.
He caught me in words that I hadn't meant to say; phrases I only rarely used. It had been a long time since I had been able to act so naturally around, even Francis didn't seem to understand some things about me that I had a feeling Matthew would.
I hadn't meant to say he was like a spiders web out loud, it was really just a musing, something that flitted into my mind and across my tongue, but it felt so right. Matthew was so fitted to a spiders web, and it was astounding to me the more I thought about it.
Spiders' webs are intricate and complex, easy to overlook, misjudge, and get caught in; and so fragile, ever so delicate. But I didn't believe Matthew was fragile, in fact I thought he was one of the strongest people I ever knew, but I felt that if I were to give him kindness then take it away it would break him.
That was something I would never do.
I wondered if he was scared, to be in a place so vulnerable to anyone to hurt him if they were so inclined? He was completely alone, and I couldn't understand why.
Last night was a sort of test, to give me a chance to evaluate Matthew and see what kind of person he really was. There were times when he surprised me and times when I knew what he was going to say before he said it.
Both he and I were sad when we noticed how late it had gotten to be, and Matthew insisted he had to return home. Both he and I knew he didn't want to go back to the shit hole of a home. I was shocked to say the least, when I heard the moan come from what I assumed to be his mother's bedroom.
Matthew had looked miserable, and he looked the same when he climbed back into his window. I had waited until he had turned out the light before making my way back to my own bed; I couldn't get his face from my mind.
But today I was going to work hard to notice everything I could about Matthew's behaviour at school, because how you act at school is always different from how you act at home, and I am the fucking poster boy for that statement. I hadn't been lying to Matthew when I told him my friends were different at school than they were when we were alone together.
Francis has a horrible reputation for being a perverted heartbreaker, and at one time he was. His mother had been one of the sluttiest women I had ever had the displeasure of meeting, and her promiscuity had fucked with Francis' head for a long time.
When we had met I was shocked to find such a person, and together we differentiated between relationships and careless flings. Francis was now afraid to be in a relationship because he thought his past self would hurt the person he would try to be with.
We had met Antonio in our freshman year, and we helped him through the trial that would convict his father of abuse and put him in prison. It had been one of the most trying things we had ever had to face. Antonio's mother was torn between her love for her husband and her desire to have him out of her life, and she almost didn't testify. After a lengthy trial and a few months of horrible pain and heartbreak for Antonio, his father was put away for a sentence of fifteen years before the option of parole.
Antonio wasn't the happy man you saw every day, walking down the halls with a grin that never faded, he often broke down and cried, he had a deeper understanding of pain that both Francis and I could never understand.
Each of us insecurities, things we have done that would tear us to pieces should anyone find out, and ways of dealing with the memories.
I pulled myself out of bed and got ready as quickly as I could, sliding down the railing of the stairs and hopping to the floor as Ludwig passed and glared at me in warning. He had told me many times not to do it, but really I couldn't pass up the opportunity to look awesome doing it.
After Antonio had fallen off the third time I was more careful, the Spaniard though, was banned from the activity for his own safety.
I slid on the wood flooring into the kitchen and Gilbird chirped before dive-bombing into my hair, where he settled and chirped once more contentedly.
I pulled out both Ludwig and my lunchboxes and threw them onto the marble counter, then put myself to the task of making our lunches. Ludwig breezed by me and grabbed four slices of toast that had popped up from the toaster.
He sidestepped around me as I got glasses of orange juice for us and set them on the table and he separated the pieces of toast onto two plates before buttering the toast on one plate and spreading peanut butter on the other.
He put the two plates on the table while I shoved frozen fruit I had taken from the freezer into a blender and measured a quarter cup of protein powder to dump in with the mix along with the medicines our grandfather needed.
"Put your bag by the door, I'll be back in a sec." I called and Ludwig gave me a small nod of affirmation before grabbing his backpack from where it sat by his feet.
I poured the smoothie into a tall glass and stuck in a straw before making my way up the stairs again.
I turned past the hallway that led to Ludwig's and my room and went down another separate hallway till I heard the steady beeping that grew louder with each step I took, before knocking on the door out of politeness. I knew he couldn't answer anyway.
I opened the door and stepped through slowly, letting the darkness reach forward from the room and my eyes adjust so I could make out the faint outline of the bed, cloaked in the dark.
"Hallo Opa." I said quietly and silence greeted me in return.
"Guten morgen." I whispered and stepped forward, letting myself be enveloped in the darkness. "I have your breakfast. Ludwig is waiting downstairs to go to school."
The beeping stayed stable and consistent; my grandfather was silent.
"I think I can help someone now Opa."
I bent my head, stared at my black Converse and breathed the heavy air that filled the room and made my limbs feel weighted. I left the room with heavy footsteps and the beginnings of a headache. I closed the door tightly behind me without another glance at the inhabitant of the room.
"Bruder are you ready?" Ludwig called, and gave me a long look before glancing away quickly.
I grabbed my bookbag but didn't respond only to pull out my phone to see the text that blinked onto the screen.
Got 'im –A
I smiled a little before following my brother out the door.
No one notices me
No one sees the scars
They miss the trembling
My bones protruding like knives through my skin
I am forgotten and floating,
Floating through the sea of broken souls
Do I get saved?
My mother hits me,
Her partner egging her on
The memories of bathroom beatings,
They echo across my eyes as I sleep
Haunting me forever
I tell,
People nod and smile,
Telling me it will go away,
Do they know for sure?
What if I die?
I want to die sometimes.
But even after all the beatings,
After all the blood
I want to live,
To make my life worthwhile
This broken thing I have been handed,
It needs to mean something
I am taken care of
Though the bandages around my ribs always soak through
Meaningless coverings over the false scars
The first scar
Stretching across my abdomen
Stopping me from ever healing properly
My mother made that scar
The knife slicing through the clean skin
Unleashing blood,
Sealing my fate everlastingly,
Ugly and blank
It cuts across my chest silently
Bearing the mark of my screams
This boy watching me,
His eyes glowing red like the blood staining my floor
He frowns when I hurt.
Perhaps he sees me
Perhaps he cares
But no one cares about what happens
But somewhere in my heart I feel scared
Not of the beatings waiting for me when I go home
Scared because for once I feel confusion,
Confusion of how someone will treat me
He says these things…
But does he really mean them?
Woohoo another chapter out, school starts tomorrow for me so I thought I would treat you guys to two new chapters tonight, one from ATS and one from The Assignment.
I really hope you guys have read my story He Paints The Color Red. I am trying to get as many favourites as I can for that one for a bet I have with my mom.
That poem was written by one of my followers and I promised I would post it! I was really happy that my story was able to inspire someone! If any of you are inspired to write a poem or a haiku or make a picture or something, send it to me and I will definitely post it in a chapter. Thank you wholockedfangirl you are amazing!
s/8962267/1/He-Paints-the-Color-Red
^Here is the link to my story HPTCR, please read it!
Next chapter is Mattie's POV!
-Serenity