Beyond help part 4
Standing outside the government issued foster house car, suitcase in hand, Matthew still couldn't be sure what events had lead for him to be standing here in this exact moment. One minute he'd been sitting in his tiny cramped room completing the last of his chemistry homework (ugh), the next he was being told to pack his things and getting whisked away in to the car.
Through out the drive he'd questioned the straight faced agent driving the car who he was, where he was going, why he was going there, but he didn't receive a single word from the man. Eventually he gave up and resigned to staring out the window at the buildings they passed. Eventually he realized they wound up in one of the slightly better neighborhoods. Not necessarily rich, but far from poor. Each house held sweeping green lawn with tall houses reaching to the sky adorned with large windows. Definitely better than his drug-deals-with-a-dash-of-murder-in-the-back-alley neighborhood.
And now here he stood, a large concrete path dividing the shiny lawn in two, a classic white picket fence separating yard from road. A few people were outside, with their children, walking their dogs, going for a jog. They all stared, and all their eyes said the same thing: What's an orphan like him doing in a place like this?
Honestly, he himself wanted to know as well.
After several minutes of standing there feeling like an idiot in his tattered clothing, the front door to the house before him swung open, revealing none other than his councilor. Suddenly this joke didn't seem so funny anymore. Mr. Bonnefoy walked down the path, a pleasant smile plastered on his face.
"Bonjour Mathieu?" He greeted cheerfully.
He jumped right to the point "Why am I here?"
"Why are you here?" he tilted his head, almost like an excited puppy "Did they explain nothing to you?"
He shrugged "Pretty much"
Then he smiled like Matthew was possibly the most exciting thing that had ever happened "Well I'll carry your bags... er bag inside and you follow me. I'll explain everything once we're inside"
As they walked up the path, Matthew was somewhat reminded of a 4 year old getting their first puppy. Mr. Bonnefoy couldn't get this happy bounce out of his step as he rambled on about how happy he was Matthew was here, how nice it was going to be with a new face in the house, how much he was looking forward to cooking for him. Matthew only half paid attention, more interested in the fact that Alfred Kirkland-Bonnefoy was standing on the front step leering down at him.
"Welcome home Matthew" Alfred called out, without a single hint of joy in his voice. He leaned against the polished wooden door frame "please enjoy your temporary stay"
"Alfred" Francis kindly warned. Clearly what he said had not been appropriate, although Matthew couldn't say he didn't expect it from the American asshat.
"Don't worry" Matthew followed Mr. Bonnefoy inside, past Alfred "I'll keep it as temporary as possible"
While Francis's smile withered at the exchange between the two boys, he continued up the stairs in to the guest bedroom ("Matthew's bedroom" he reminded himself) and placed the small ancient suit case on the luxurious bed. It stood far too much. Everything in the room was sharp, clean, and pristine while the baggage was old dreary, faded and worn out from obvious years of usage. It stood out like a farmer at a formal gathering. It simply looked too... too... low class.
While the Bonnefoy-Kirklands were anything but rich, they were no middle class family. Most of their furniture being expensive and their rooms being neat and tidied. They found pride in what they had, which was nice and elegant. But in the foster program, things were much worse. Furniture old and handed down generation to generation of kids. The employees were old and withered. They held no happiness in their hearts for the children they cared for. Arthur always said it was one of the many reasons orphans had no chance in life, they never felt proper love from a caring adult.
Matthew followed up the stairs behind him, uninterested eyes slightly widening at the size of his room. It was average, with a large bed, a window overlooking the backyard, a desk with a laptop to use for schoolwork, and a bookcase with various books but room for others should he choose to fill them.
"Over here we have your closet" Mr. Bonnefoy gestured towards a pair of double doors across from the desk. He swung them open and and there lay a small average sized closet with a few t-shirts and odd things "We gathered some of Alfred's old things since they seem they would fit you, but you can put your own clothes in here as well." He walked out of the room and Matthew followed
"over here is the upstairs bathroom you and Alfred will be sharing." A glance past the white trimmed door showed an overly shiny bathroom, bigger than his old room, with stainless steel everything "This is Alfred's room" He didn't dare try to steal a look in to the dull red and blue door across from his own "downstairs we have the living room" A prissy looking stuck up man sat in there reading a book while sipping some of his tea. There was some similarities between Alfred the asshat and this man. Father and son? Well, there had to be a Kirkland in Bonnefoy-Kirkland somewhere.
"That is Arthur, my husband" He offered the most brief of polite waves before returning to his book "over here is the kitchen" another room easily double the size of his old bedroom with stainless steel everything "and the dining room" A round shiny wooden table with three matching chairs and one mismatched darker chair that had clearly been recently added surrounded the table "down that hall over there is my husband and I's bedroom, the bathroom we share, and the games room. Feel free to use it whenever you wish, Alfred practically lives down there as it is"
Finally they stopped walking once they reached the end of the hallway. Lasers and zombies could be heard shouting and screaming from the games room along with Alfred's cries of how he was the hero "Alright Mathieu that's the layout of the house if you have any questions you can ask me or Arthur-"
"Yeah ok here's one" Matthew cut him off, beyond irritated and confused "why the fuck am I here?"
Francis immediately paled slightly "maybe this would be something better explained in the living room with the rest of the family"
After a few minutes (there really wasn't much to say) Matthew stared at the rest of these people, HIS FAMILY, with wide aghast eyes.
"S-so" damn that fucking nervous stutter "you, Mr. Bonnefoy, are my biological father"
"Yes" Francis confirmed "do you know who your mother is?"
Arthur immediately tensed up. This could ruin everything. Francis would know the truth. He would hate him. Pack up and leave just like his own father did, Leaving his mother to care for 5 boys lest they become orphans. That couldn't happen. Oh god here it comes...
"How the fuck should I know? All I know is she died birthing me, she didn't run off if that's what your thinking" Matthew was clearly irritated. He just found out his annoying ass councilor was, as of now, his father and the american asshat was technically, by default, his brother.
"Matthew" the annoying prick who was also technically his father commented "might I ask what you are... wearing?" He was clearly eyeing with disgust the clothing he'd been wearing all day. Matthew didn't think it was that bad, it was better than what most the kids there wore.
"Just some booty shorts and a tank-top why?"
Arthur eyed them both with visible disgust "they are, excuse my rudeness, completely disgusting. They have stains on them, and I do believe those "booty shorts" have a hole near your rear. Not to mention they barely cover you up. If you are to live in this home from now one I DO expect you to dress more appropriately"
Matthew couldn't help but glance at Alfred, who clearly hadn't showered in days and had his own fair share of stains covering the clothing he wore. Arthur hadn't made a single complaint to Alfred in the entirety of the time Matthew had been here, although admittedly the Canadian's clothing was much worse than Alfred's. There was only so much you got out of the barely funded foster program.
As much as it killed him to say it, he spat out "yes I understand. I'll go unpack now" and got up without being dismissed. A sharp comment about how blanks had no manners was thrown, even of Matthew wasn't meant to hear it, it still hurt. That word hurt. Even though he wasn't even a dirty blank anymore, he still felt like one. He was still treated like one. One DNA test and some papers won't change people.
Gently closing the door behind him, he slowly began to unfold and hand the dirty, ripped, patched up shirts and pants he'd grabbed before leaving. He was a master with a sewing kit by now, and you could hardly tell there had been holes to begin with. He'd always repaired his friends shirts and pants for them. Roderich had helped him from time to time, it's who he learned from. Apparently Roderich's mother had taught him before she died of an inexplicable illness. With no father ever being present, he'd wound up with Matthew in that same shit storm of hell that proceeded to plague both boys in their nightmares to this very day. All of Matthew's fellow orphans had graduated and moved on without him. Roderich had been hired in a sweatshop thanks to his marvelous weing skills, even though he dreamed of being a composer. How ever, no colleges would take him despite being the best of his class.
Eduard had gone on to become technical support in a low class computer shop, even though he easily qualified for a job as a complex programmer. He earned enough for himself and little extra, which he confessed was going towards a fund for the youngest of them, Raivis.
Raivis was only in grade 11, and heavily bullied. He lasted through it though, with a soft smile and inner glow that made all attracted to him. He didn't know how Raivis would fare in the outside world. He had no exceptional talents like Roderich or Eduard. He was average, which would be fine if it weren't for the blank label following him around everywhere he went. For now, Matthew could only hope and pray to a god he didn't believe in that he would alright. Not like the last of their trio.
When Matthew was in grade 9, 14 years old, his best and oldest friends Toris graduated and took the jump.
It had come as a shock to him. Arriving at the over populated foster home (orphanage), he went to his shared room with the older boy and found a note addressed to him on his bed. It had been the last thing he ever recieved from the Lithuanian boy. It read:
Dear Matthew,
The times we have had together have been fun. It's been nice seeing you grow from a child in to a premature adult. You have assets and you know how to manipulate others to get your way. You will do fine in the outside world.
Sadly, I have no special talents nor jobs lined up. The orphanage has kicked me out with no where to go, no way to earn money, and no future ahead of me. At this rate, I'll simply starve to death. I want to skip the pain and jump to end. So jump, I will.
See you on the other side,
Toris.
It was shortly after that he was informed the graduated student was nothing more than a pile of flesh on the concrete now. The funeral (if you could call it that) had been short, and small. Just the remaining 4 of them and the grave digger who buried Toris and the rest of the orphans who jumped in to one mass pit, then covered it with a tarp.
"No point in burying 'em now" his withered voice had weezed "more poor souls will be joining 'em in the comin' days. May as well not work my old back and wait till their done"
As they were walking back, an entire family was mourning the death of one boy, their son, who had jumped for being bullied tremendously. His mother, father, and siblings along with extended family all attended. Aunts and uncles shed their tears for the poor, innocent boy who deserved none of what he received. Grandparents left small stuffies and toys and his grave, despite him being a graduated senior. Close friends told stories of the fun times they had together, and how they prayed he was happy now and in a better place.
That day, Matthew felt a bitterness he had never felt before spread through him at the injustice being committed. One boy jumped, and dozens came to mourn the loss of this marvelous young boy, But just 100ft away stood a giant pit filled with dozens like him who had done the exact same as himself, yet not a soul stood there now. How was Toris so different from this other mystery boy? Toris who had held him when he cried and encouraged him to follow his dreams. Toris who had never harmed a soul and was filled with such kindness many others couldn't compare to.
Toris, who was now labeled as a pile of flesh on the concrete.
Ever since that day, Matthew had never forgotten and never would forget the bitterness in his soul. The equality the government preached was never there. Not even the law enforcement gave a damn for their well being. A blank could be having a heart attack in a hospital and they'd treat a normal person's skinned knee first. It was just how things were. Just how things are.
And as Matthew continued hanging his belongings, NOT changing out of the booty shorts he wore, he realized he was still faced with these prejudices to this very day, with the clothing situation between him and Alfred and the obvious hatred Arthur felt on his heart toward him.
He dug to the bottom of his bag and sure enough, there it was, the only possession he could truly call his own.
"I will never fit in will I, mom?" He asked the silver necklace with the maple leaf charm. He wrapped it around his neck and tucked it under his shirt, whispering "3 months and I'll fit in. After all, we're all equal when we're dead"
A/N thank god for sick days or I never would have finished this time. Yeah my science teacher's humor is assigning 40 science questions for homework and lab to write out for the weekend. I had next to no time to write, which is why I am publishing this so late, although it is still Monday for me so you can't technically kill me :D
Anyways please review! It helps my cold ridden mind think of what to write through all the fog and haze that comes with a stuffed head.