Thursday, October 23, 1996

Matt

The door slammed shut. Sluggishly, he opened his eyes and sat up. His eyes readjusted to the light as he blinked a few times, glancing around. His eyes rested on TK. He had his blanket pulled up to his nose. He was sitting upright. From the light, he could tell he was on the brink of tears. He opened his mouth to ask what was wrong, guessing the sudden sound scared him, but he didn't get the chance.

"Where the hell have you been?" Matt's head turned to the door, then he glanced back at TK, his eyes locked on the door too. A simple sentence stopping any thought either of them had. Matt looked down at his hands, his blanket curled in them. He had no intent on letting go. He glanced back up as his father spoke.

"Calm down. It's nothing you should be worried about," he mumbled, slurring, making it hard to understand. He imagined he shrugged, perhaps walking over to their bedroom, but he wouldn't know for sure. He didn't feel the need to ask.

"Are you drunk?" He didn't reply. Matts's head turned to TK's small voice whimpering into his blanket. Matt tiptoed out of bed and walked over to the TK. When he looked up at him, he reminded Matt of a small defenseless puppy. Matt sat down next to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. TK buried his head further into Matt's chest, his shoulders heaved with a few sobs.

"Are you drunk?" she repeated. She was losing her patience.

"So I went out with a couple of friends, big deal." Dad rolled his eyes. He was almost sure of it. Matt huffed, tightened his grip on TK, shutting his eyes. He didn't want to break down in front of him. In fact, it was the last thing he wanted to do. Matt clung to his brother as if his life depended on it. They're all each other had to get through another late-night argument.

"It's midnight, Hiroaki."

"I don't get what the big deal is."

Matt wanted to know what happened, what was happening. He couldn't tell if this was going to be a big fight or not, and the anticipation was killing him. Straightening up, he tapped TK's shoulder and dragged himself off his bed. He kept TK's hand in his as TK looked at the ground, reluctantly deciding to follow. He sped up so he could cling to Matt's arm, knowing where they were going; his stray tears fell down his cheeks.

Matt glanced down at the younger blonde, his eyes glued to the floor. It was a minor act of trust established between the two; TK knew Matt would lead him where he needed to go. Something so simple but meaningful to Matt. Then again, when you're as young as TK, he'd rely on almost anyone to help him.

"Can we ask this time?" he whispered. Matt stopped and shook his head. TK looked pleadingly into his eyes. He thought it would solve everything. Matt didn't have the heart to tell him it's not that simple.

"No," Matt said with a bit more confidence. TK dropped his head, disappointed, and Matt sighed. They snuck over to the door, which was already cracked open a bit. Matt pushed it a little so they could see what was going on. The kitchen was visible from where they were sitting, but he doubted their parents could see them. They sat down next to each other, watching as the fight played out.

Their dad was walking away, while it looked like their mom was contemplating if she should go after him. Her decision would change the atmosphere of the fight. As of that moment, it was a slight disagreement. It could escalate into a full-on fight, though.

She put down her pen- something Matt hadn't thought about. She had been working on a report before their father had come back home. He glanced at the clock, 12:43. how TK was awake so fast. He decided not to ask; it wasn't the time or place. Whatever it was, he would never know.

"The boys are asleep." Hiroaki turned to her. "For the fourth night in a row, TK asked where his dad was, and again I didn't have an answer."

"I was at work. They go to bed at what, nine?"

"Eight," Nancy corrected. Matt sighed. He still couldn't tell what was going to happen. He could tell his mother was tense, his father, well, he couldn't tell with him. "Matt used to ask, but he gave up a while ago, not that you care."

"Don't say that," he warned. Her back was to him, but he guessed she rolled her eyes. She shut the notebook she was working in, stood up, and carried it with her as she made her way across the room.

"One day you're going to wake up and realize they've grown up, and you'll have missed it. I hope the bar is enough for you because at that point you'll have no relation with them." She walked past him, but he grabbed her wrist. TK jumped, stifling a gasp as he wiped a few of his tears.

"Is that a threat?"

Nancy looked at the floor while Hiroaki glared at the back of her head, demanding an answer. She shook her head and pulled her wrist free.

"No, the truth." Their father watched her as she put a couple of things down on the counter. She turned the faucet on and started washing the few dishes left in the sink, and they remained silent. After a moment, she tossed some sort of silverware down and it made a loud clang as it hit the sink, TK jumped.

"God, this is so frustrating!"

She made eye contact with Hiroaki; he rolled his eyes. Matt noted he did that a lot. This wasn't an angry fight, he concluded, but a disagreement, a sharing of annoyance, so to speak.

"Oh, please. So I went out a few days this week, big deal. Get over it."

"No, you're damn distance!" Nancy shut the sink off, drying her hands as she faced Hiroaki. She shook her head and walked past him. "You're a horrible father."

He slapped her. Everything froze for a few seconds. TK clung to Matt's shirt, whimpering. Matt shook his head and stood up, guiding TK back to his bed.

"Go," he whispered. TK shook his head, refusing to let go of Matt, his cries getting a little louder. Matt hugged him, whispering comforting words he barely believed. Never in his life would he imagine his father hitting his mother. He wanted to run out there and tell them to stop fighting, to be happy, to make them make up. They made him and TK make up when they fought. Didn't they know better? They already learned fighting was bad! Hitting lead grounding, weren't they role models? Matt didn't understand. He hoped he'd never understand.

His voice shook with each word he said to TK, and now he couldn't stop his own tears.

"Get out," Nancy snapped.

"Excuse me?"

"I said get out."

TK broke from their hug and ran to the door. Matt grabbed his arm, pulling him back. "No, no, no, no, TK, no. Stay here." TK turned around and sobbed into Matt's chest. "Go back to bed." He shook his head. "TK, go back to bed."

"No," he choked out.

"Please, they'll be better in the morning. They only fight at night, go back to bed."

"I'm scared."

"What? Why?" Matt got down on his knees so he could look TK in the eye.

"What if daddy hurts us?" he whispered. Matt froze, his blood turning to ice. He shook his head.

"He loves us he wouldn't-" TK cut him off.

"He says he loves mommy too."

He pulled TK into a hug. "Go to bed," he whispered into his ear. "It'll all be better in the morning, okay?" There was nothing else he could say. He didn't know what to say. Was there something he should say?

"You're crying." TK looked into Matt's eyes. Matt mustered a strained smile.

"I won't be in the morning."

TK nodded and crawled into his bed. Matt wiped his tears and made his way to his own bed. He faced the wall, and he couldn't bear to look at TK.

"Nancy, this is my house too!"

"Couldn't tell, you're never here." She paused, and Matt held his breath. "I want a divorce." The front door opened, and he buried his head into his pillow. Tears welled in his eyes and he heard TK roll over.

"Don't do this to the kids."

"It's too late for that."

Six Years Later

Sunday, February 22, 2002

Click. Nothing.

Click. Still nothing.

He sighed and rolled out his wrist. The bulb was dead again. Matt rested his back against the wall and glanced around the small, unlit space. Letting out a dry cough, he sat there for a bit. He almost wanted to try again, but decided against it. He looked through his old school bag. Rips were all over the it, but tape covered a lot of them. Grabbing a flashlight stolen from the kitchen cabinet, he switched it on. His father wouldn't notice it missing, or remembered it was there.

He zipped the bag back up and shut the flashlight off, greeted by the darkness of the small closet. He turned it on again, and off, and repeated this a few more times out of pure boredom. Matt stood up and walked heel to toe around the room, five by three. He'd always laughed at how over time, the room got smaller, without actually changing sizes, in an ironic sort of way.

Matt sat down and looked at the pile of clothes in the corner. Three tee-shirts, two pairs of pants, and a few other unmentionables. Most were at least one size too small. He looked at his backpack, his uniform folded underneath it, staying as 'neat' as he could make it. Luckily, he had a gym uniform. Most people complained about them, but it gave him another outfit.

Matt laid down and rested his head on the small pile. It was Sunday; he found that out the last time he snuck out of the closet. He rolled onto his back, staring up into the abyss of darkness. Matt shut his eyes; he was so thirsty. He almost considered sneaking out again, but he dismissed the thought.

His father was too drunk to consider necessities like bathroom breaks and water. It didn't take Matt long to learn how to pick the lock. Problem was, he didn't know when his father would come home, and leaving was a tremendous risk. It was nothing but a last resort.

Sunday. Possibility one more day locked in here. Lucky for Matt, his father thought about school most of the time. He missed a lot of days, usually Mondays, much to his teacher's dismay, but he made up for it. Not much to do when you're locked in a tiny room over the weekend or at night. He closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep. The less time he spent awake, the less time he felt the experience of being in that room. Hopefully, his father would be back soon and remembered to let him out.

As he felt himself drifting off, a loud knock on the door woke him up. His eyes shot open, and he bolted upright. His breathing immediately sped up, coming out in brief spurts. He waited, and they knocked again. Matt brought his knees to his chest, shuddering into them. He couldn't tell what was going on. The closet might be a thing for this situation.

The door opened after hearing voices he couldn't quite understand. He bit his lip to be as quiet as possible. They sounded like they were yelling. He shut his eyes, completely helpless, and he didn't know what to do. There wasn't much he could do. He could pick the lock and make a run for it, but that would make too much noise, not to mention the time it would take.

"Mathew?"

He perked up and looked at the closed door. It was an unfamiliar, masculine voice. But besides that, all he could hear were doors opening and closing and other people calling out for him. He whimpered. Despite them telling him to meet them, he refused, not that he could get out of there, anyway. There was a knock at the closet door, softer than the one at the front door. Matt froze. He'd been pinching himself subconsciously. He didn't open his eyes until the light from the main room shone into the closet. Matt trembled, turning his head towards the door as he shrank back.

Before him stood a tall woman, he guessed, in her mid-thirties. She had dark skin and short brown hair pulled back into a ponytail, as well as dark brown eyes. She was wearing a police uniform, but that didn't make him feel much safer. He blinked as a couple more officers walked up to her. She said something, but the words flew over his head.

"Matthew?" He winced and mustered up a little courage.

"What do you want?" he whispered. Another officer, around the same age, kneeled in front of him. Matt looked at his hands, one extended in front of him. It didn't seem threatening, but Matt didn't trust him.

"My name is Daniel. I'm here to take you to your mother."

Shock. That's one word to describe everything. Matt now sat in his mother's car, in the back seat behind TK and his mother. In the past two hours, he was brought out of his father's apartment, to the hospital, then released. Now, he was moving in with his mother? He glanced out the window, looking for some dream-like situation to prove he was making this up. No such luck. He had a small conversation with his mom, but TK, not a word. Maybe they'd hate him for intruding on their lives. He was 'unstable', as the doctor had put it.

"Keep an eye on him, just in case," she said. As if he wasn't sitting right there, listening to them talk like he was crazy. When he had first gotten into the car, he glanced at TK. Realizing he had seen him a few times at school was a shock. TK had smiled at him, but it wasn't a cheerful smile. Matt didn't know what it was, but he wasn't happy. TK had acted it, but he saw right through it. So, Matt didn't acknowledge it.

He sighed inaudibly. TK was resting his head on the window, looking out it. It was clear he wasn't focused on anything in particular. His eyes stayed straight. He saw him sigh and twirl a string between his fingers. How much he had changed? When it first hit him he'd be seeing TK again. It didn't quite occur to him he wasn't a child anymore. He grew up like he had. Matt balled his hands into fists. He'd been staring. He looked down into his lap.

He didn't look up until they pulled into an apartment building. It wasn't the same one they lived in before; they had moved. Not that it surprised him, but it caught him off guard. Matt didn't like change, he never did. This was a big change. It should have felt like a good one, but it seemed fake. This was the type of thing where everyone runs into each other's arms and hugged, smiled, and laughed. There was none of that here. He bit his lip. In a way, he kind of missed the comfort of the closet. At least there he knew nobody was judging him, and he wasn't bothering anyone.

"Matt?"

He looked up. TK and his mom had gotten out of the car. He shrank back, embarrassed. TK looked at him, then looked away, like he was about to say something and then didn't. He mumbled some type of apology as he got out of the car, taking everything in. The building was nothing special, but he felt he was crossing into foreign lands. He looked around, then at his mother, who smiled and motioned for him to follow her. He analyzed the area; it was a lot like his apartment, but he felt the need to shake his head.

He rubbed his finger against the bandage on his arm. Then he sighed. Aloud for once. Nobody noticed as far as he could tell, and he got the sudden urge to cry. This was all going too fast! There was too much to think about, to remember, to just- notice. He couldn't read TK and his mom very well. He couldn't tell what they were thinking. He bit his lip, which was quivering. There was too much to take in, he defaulted to the floor. He stopped when he saw TK stop, and he glanced up. 421. His mom opened the door and held it open. He heard TK say a small thanks, and he stood outside the door.

"Come on, bud."

He made eye contact with his mom, then meekly nodded. He didn't want to argue; he was too scared. She shut the door behind him. There was a tense atmosphere for a solid couple of seconds until she led Matt down the hall. He didn't have to look behind him to know TK was watching him, but he knew. She opened another door and motioned for Matt to step inside. And so he did. He knew better than to question an adult.

He glanced up; it was a medium-sized room; he estimated eleven by fourteen feet, his feet, not an actual foot. It had pale blue walls and a white carpet. Taking another look, there was a wooden dresser with a lamp sitting on it. There was a bed in the corner too, forest green covers sat on top of it. TK's room, he concluded. It had little in it, but Matt didn't think about that.

"We switched apartments again a few years ago." Matt turned to his mom, who was still in the doorway. She shrugged. "I wanted to be prepared, a bigger apartment cost more, but it was worth it."

He opened his mouth to ask what she meant, but he couldn't bring himself to do so. She walked over to him, and he flinched as she tried to hug him. An immediate sense of guilt painted her face, and Matt felt like he'd stabbed her in the heart. She nodded.

"It's okay." She bent down to get on his level. "I want you to feel as welcome as possible, Matt. I wish I could have done more, but I couldn't. I understand you don't trust me, and I just," she paused. Tears glistened in her eyes, but they didn't fall. He bit his lip. He caused those tears. The room spun for a second. He couldn't make sense of what was happening. She looked guilty for something that wasn't his fault. She stood up. "Tell me if you need anything, get some sleep, you look tired."

Matt was able to get a hold of himself and whispered, "I don't understand."

"This is your room." He looked up at her, to see any sign that gave it away. She was joking, but there was none that he could see. "He can't hurt you anymore, okay?" Her voice broke a little. Matt shook his head but said nothing.

"I know this is going to be hard. But it's going to be okay, I promise." Matt shook, tears slid down his cheeks. He wasn't sure why, it could have been shock, confusion, but he didn't feel happy. He used to dream of this day! Now that it was here, he didn't believe it. "Can I hug you?" she asked. Matt nodded, wanting the comfort. He let himself cry into her arms as he tried to sort out his thoughts, but it was harder than that. When he thought he got an answer, something came and changed his mind.

He felt lost and wasn't sure how to get back. Matt shut his eyes and tried to stop thinking for a minute. He wanted to appreciate the fact that someone was caring for him, a parent was caring for him. For once in a long time, he felt loved, and even if for a second it distracted him, that was enough.

TK

Does a seat matter that much? If he sat in the front, he distanced himself from Matt. That could make him feel like he didn't want him to be close to him or Nancy. He sighed, the same went for the backseat, then again he could sit next to him. He shook his head, deciding it would be weird if he switched seats, and his mom would ask. Someone knocked on the window, pulling him out of his thoughts.

His mom opened the door. "Sorry for the wait. Matt just got cleared so I'm going to go get him." TK nodded. He said nothing. "See you soon." She waved and shut the door. The cool air rushed into the car, a warm comfortable feeling invaded. Cold- but not too cold. Cool or crisp would be a better way to describe it. He watched his mom walk away; he sighed.

He had been trying to figure out the best way to make Matt feel welcome without being over the top and mushy. Three hours later, he still wasn't sure how to do that. Just seem happy? Which he was! But he was more anxious than anything. The last thing he wanted to do was cause a problem in his life. Matt had enough of those, and TK felt bad, but he also knew nobody wanted pity, and he had to agree. His mom explained what their father had done. He couldn't find the right words to explain how he felt, no matter how hard he tried.

He looked out the window. Stars dotted the sky. He smiled, a vague memory of Matt saying stars were big fireflies a couple of weeks before the family had split up. He believed that for years until his third-grade teacher laughed and told him that wasn't so. One of the few memories he had left of his brother didn't feel as magical anymore. The thing about having an older sibling, even if they're only a year older, is that they're like an angel. They give you answers your parents won't, though not correct, they're childlike.

"How far away is the moon?" you could ask. Your parents would reply 'far' or 'go ask your father.' But a sibling will come up with an actual answer. It'd be surreal, or they'll smile and say something like, "in a galaxy far, far, away."

Is it true? No. Not even close. But as a child, it was real, no matter who told you otherwise. Because your older brother or sister said it, your hero. They were like these magical beings that knew everything. Or at least, that's how TK had felt about Matt when they were younger. He was like a guardian. Back then, his parents were heroes to him, too. But then he remembered the fights, the lack of comfort, and they weren't anymore. A few times, thunderstorms shook the earth. It had been Matt who stayed up with him, even when he had school the next day. He wanted him to feel safe. Now, he wasn't sure who Matt was. Not that he had changed. Maybe he did, maybe he didn't. He could come out with brown hair and a mohawk for all he knew. They were strangers, and TK didn't know how to react to that.

TK turned to the back door, which had opened, and he luckily looked the same. It wasn't some weird imposter who came by claiming to be his brother. TK offered a small- awkward- smile, but Matt didn't see. He looked back at the dashboard and as Nancy sat down. He gave her a pleading look, a cry for help to fix his chronic inability to socialize. She playfully rolled her eyes as if to say, "you're on your own!" He pouted for a split second and then sighed, retreating to looking out the window. The car started up, and nobody spoke for the entire car ride.

He found a loose string on his sweater and pulled it out, twirling it between his two fingers. He thought about problems in general. Not his, not anyone else's, but the reactions to them. A question came to him, and try as he might, he couldn't think of an answer. What made a problem significant or not? What made it a big issue? The amount of people with that problem? Everyone struggles with small things and big things, not that he could figure out how to sort them. A person's physical, or mental reaction? But everyone reacts to things differently.

Are they're judged on their impact on day-to-day life? Again, everyone reacts differently. Then again, if you break your arm, it hurts all the same, but people react to it differently. So maybe it wasn't the problem, but the reaction. Reasoning to someone on the outside, it could mean nothing, about as much as dirt on the sidewalk to them. To the person living that specific issue, it's larger than life- or it's not. Then again, why on the news do people say "this is a big problem."

Maybe it wasn't about every individual's outlook, but the impact it has on the majority. Would that mean an issue in a family business isn't an issue because most people don't care, or don't know about it? Did the use of the words 'big' and 'small' not matter when talking about a problem?

He balled his hand into a fist. Why did this even matter? What was important right now was Matt's return. Not his stupid analysis that he would never figure out, but also would never stop thinking about. He sighed, the most troublesome thought of the night creeping into his mind (not that he didn't think if it was even worthy of being called troublesome.) Today was Sunday, meaning he had to go back to school tomorrow, meaning he had to face Trent and Aiden again. He used his thumb and tranced a cut underneath his heavy green sweater. He glanced down, a row of cuts- put there by none other than himself, stung with a small touch.

He sighed. It may not be a big problem in the grand scheme of things, but that didn't matter. He didn't want to go, didn't want to deal with this anymore. He wanted the answer to his stupid question and he wanted to figure out how to deal with Matt's return and how to repair their relationship. And he wanted Trent and Aiden to leave him alone!