AN: to those who followed or reviewed this story: I can not possibly thank you enough. I was feeling a bit unmotivated for this story but your approval made me super happy and want to continue to write it. I'll try to have the next chapter faster, and it might actually happen because I have a few ideas for it.

Chapter 4: First Day

The red brick building loomed over Matthew, making him even more nervous than before. The new snow glistened and sparkled in the morning sun, revealing tromped down areas where groups of friends had ventured off the shoveled sidewalk. Taking a deep breath he stepped through the black metal doors and viewed the inside of his new school for the first time. It was quite unremarkable really. Humming tube bulbs illuminated cream walls lined with dull blue lockers and plastered with cheesy school spirit posters. The doors were wooden with clouded windows so people couldn't see in, why they did that was a mystery to Matthew, but it was not uncommon in schools he had seen.

Several of the doors were open, and Matthew noticed a small plaque labeling one of them the 'office'. Matthew entered and found a decent sized room with a copier, printer, and paper cutter set behind a surly looking secretary.

"Can I help you?" She asked in a bored voice,

"Uh," he replied eloquently "I'm Matthew Williams, I'm new here."

"Ah, of course." She muttered before turning to the old computer in front of her and typing something, "Do you have your schedule?"

"Um, yeah," This was extremely awkward for the shy boy who was unsure of what he was supposed to do.

"Well your homeroom teacher will be Mr. Nelson, please follow me." The blonde haired woman stood and Matthew was surprised at how short she was, coming just past his elbow as she bustled him out of the room.

The pair walked to the end of the hallway and turned left, into another, smaller one. The secretary turned into room 102 and walked up to a tall man with curly, unkempt hair and rough stubble. After they conversed for a moment or two he looked at the new student and grinned broadly.

"Hi," his voice was full and expressive. "I'm Mr. Nelson; you must be Matthew, right?"

"Uh, yeah that's right" He mumbled slightly

"Well I'll just leave him with you then," The short woman said, leaving, she didn't hear Matthew's faint "Thank you"

"Well, I'll show you to your locker so you can put down your things." Mr. Nelson said friendly, he grabbed something off his desk and they reentered the hallway, and Mr. Nelson led Matthew to a lock-less locker. "This'll be yours. Here's the lock and combination, I'll also have it in case you forget. Just so you know, any locker is susceptible to random searches, school policy."

"A-alright, thanks." Matthew replied in his whispery voice. Mr. Nelson smiled and walked back to his classroom, knowing Matthew would come when he was finished with his locker. The teen opened his old black backpack and brought out his supply list, for social studies he needed . . . a three subject notebook, a folder, a pencil and a planner. He also grabbed another notebook; it was a fairly old sketch book, with scraps of paper that had been tucked in between pages peeking out the sides. Inside most of the pages were filled with incredible pencil and pen drawings. Many of them depicted gruesome scenes with Matthew as a focus or peaceful, beautiful places and scenes with him cleverly concealed in the background, almost unnoticeable.

Every drawing had his signature and a date, each going in chronological order from front to back. From these drawings one could sense the mood Matthew had been in on that particular day, that is, if anyone ever saw them, which wouldn't happen if the blonde had anything to say about it. This was his refuge; his way to vent, anything he ever wanted or ever felt was in his drawings. Not necessarily in this particular notebook, he had many others, now stashed in his closet, the latest ones were the most hopeful, but even they were sporadically dark, with hints of the fear and pain the boy still felt.

Clutching his things to his chest Matthew walked back to the classroom, smiling slightly. It was about five to eight, and just over half the class was collected in the room, sitting or standing around chatting with friends. He slipped silently into an open seat by the window and gazed out onto a large green area that appeared to have the lines for both a lacrosse and football field. Real football of course, not the American sport he had dubbed 'hand-egg'. Matthew was startled out of his thoughts when a rich high voice sounded beside him.

"Oh, hello!" The girl speaking had to be a senior. She had short silvery hair held back by a golden-orange headband. She was clearly not trying to draw too much attention to herself in a simple white t-shirt and knee-length loose denim shorts, but she had one very distinct feature, her breasts were enormous. Noticing this Matthew blushed, immediately bringing his gaze back to her face. "You must be the new student," well that was blunt, "I'm Katyusha, it's a pleasure to meet you." She had an accent, but Matthew couldn't quite place it, it sounded Russian, but there was some very small difference.

"M-Matthew," He introduced himself in his usual whispery tone, to be honest, he was a bit afraid, he couldn't remember that last pleasant conversation he'd had with anyone except Alfred. "The p-pleasure is mine." The chatted for a bit, and he learned that her name was very hard for him to pronounce, much to his embarrassment, so she said he could just call her Kat, if it would be easier. Other students came and went in groups, talking to Matthew for a bit before leaving. All the attention was overwhelming the poor boy that had never really been noticed back in America. However, even under stress the blonde was a meticulous observer and noticed that almost no one he spoke to had an American or Canadian accent, most of them had thick European ones.

Matthew himself didn't do much talking but he learned names and gave out his own, listening to the others, still mistrusting of their actions. However, everyone was extraordinarily kind and no one teased or hit him. Yet. A voice in his mind chided. This was his best friend, a voice inside his head. It was always there for him, protecting him from the outside world, giving him someone to talk to, even though he knew he was only talking to himself.

When Mr. Nelson began class, it was 15 minutes late. He began in the most cliche why possible, buy calling Matthew up to the front to introduce himself. "U-um, my n-name is Matthew, a-and I just moved here f-from the U. S." Dang it, he was stuttering. His cheeks a brilliant red, and his eyes focused anywhere but his new classmates.

As Matthew was speaking Mr. Nelson scanned the room, trying to find a descent place for the boy to sit. Both desks beside Allistor were open, but he didn't wish to traumatize the blonde on his first day. However, Mr. Nelson soon realized that the only open seats were by the less pleasant students, big surprise. Scanning his options Mr. Nelson decided the best place was an open seat beside Lovino, a very surly Italian boy with an extreme cussing tendency. "Thank you, Matthew" He said cheerily, "Please take a seat beside Lovino, Lovino, please raise your hand."

"Why the hell should I?" A boy with a low voice asked. He had dark auburn hair with an odd, gravity defying curl. Not that Matthew was one to talk, he had a similar strand, but while his was a sort of loop, the Italian's was a curly-Q, hair shouldn't be able to do that naturally, but the little voice in his head said it was, and it was usually right. Matthew shuffled to the empty seat. He listened as Mr. Nelson went over the syllabus, the quick curious glances of his classmates not going unnoticed.

Despite his best efforts, Matthew could not remember everyone he met on that first day. He managed to find all his classes with the help of a friendly Italian boy named Feliciano who looked very much like Lovino. However they were impossible to confuse. Lovino wore a sour expression and was very disrespectful to everyone. Matthew didn't see Feli frown all day until he stubbed his toe and ran crying to a large boy with slicked back blonde hair who was built like an ox.

When he got home Matthew realized he had not drawn in his sketchbook that day. He honestly couldn't remember a time before when he had gone the school day without doodling or drawing. Smiling softly he opened to a new page and began to sketch. Soon he found himself looking at a full flower garden and ran to get some colored pencils. The finished piece was brightly colored with every shade imaginable, revealing a flower bed that one might associate with fairies and elves.

AN: Yeah I know its too short for the tome it took me to write, but it was a difficult chapter for me because I've gone to the same school my whole life and don't exactly remember the first day of Kindergarten. I like the idea that Matthew doesn't have trouble telling twins apart because he looks for small details in people so they seem so different to him that he can't understand how people confuse them. This probably came from people confusing him and Alfred and him looking for differences and seeing so many that he didn't understand how other people didn't see them.

This is an AN so I don't feel obligated to have good grammar.