The cut wasn't really bleeding anymore. It was long but shallow, and the pain was bearable as long as he didn't make any sudden movements.
The four had been in the car for about fifteen minutes, and they still had two hours to go. Matthew and his family lived on the outskirts of D.C, making the drive to Hersey long, but not ridiculous.
Matthew stared at the laceration on his arm, stomach rolling. He knew he had to do something about it. The smeared blood was too obvious for him to just walk around the park like nothing had happened. But what could he do? He had not brought an extra change of clothes, and unlike his brother's aviator jacket, he didn't have anything extra to take off. There weren't any towels lying around, and unless Matthew wanted to wipe his arm on the back of the seat, there weren't any options.
Alfred started complaining. "It's kinda hot in here," exclaimed his brother.
"Do you want us to turn the air conditioning on?" his mother asked. She didn't turn from the wheel.
"Nah." Alfred answered, shrugging off his jacket. Matthew was surprised; Alfred always wore his jacket. Even if it was a hundred degrees outside. If Alfred could've worn it in the shower, Matthew was sure he would.
He tossed his jacket to the side, and it landed in Matthew's lap.
Am I a coat rack now? Matthew thought, then blinked in surprise. How could he be thinking such mean things? He was sure Alfred hadn't meant it like that. Just being thoughtless like usual.
Alfred caught his eye. He kept moving them back and forth, back and forth, as if trying to emphasize something. Matthew was at a loss of what he meant. Alfred gave him an exasperated look. He glared down pointedly at the jacket then touched his forearm lightly.
Did he want him to use his bomber jacket, his favorite jacket, to stop the bleeding? Matthew felt a sudden wave of guilt remembering what he had thought earlier.
Matthew took the jacket in his hand, then glanced at his brother looking for reassurance. He realized that he wasn't going to receive any when he heard Alfred excitedly begin talking about the rides he wanted to go on to their parents. Matthew took a deep breath and used the inside of the jacket to blot at the blood. He hissed at the rough contact then paused, glancing up at his parents to see if they would react.
It wasn't helping very much. Matthew hesitated for a moment then stretched out to grab a water bottle in the cup holder in front of them and poured a bit on the left sleeve.
He was dismayed at how much blood came off onto the jacket. The cut looked better, though he at least hoped no one would try to rush him off to the hospital while they were walking around the park.
Matthew sat in silence, staring out the window, bomber jacket still draped over his lap. His parents and brother chatted or listened to the radio, simply sitting companionably. Didn't matter to Matthew, wasn't like he was a part of it.
Wow, the pain really was making him bitter.
"Could we stop?" Alfred asked, "I need to go to the bathroom."
"Can you wait, son?" asked their father, "We only have forty five minutes till we get there."
"Not really," admitted his brother, squirming in his seat.
Now that he thought about it, Matthew kind of needed to use the restroom too. He had been in such a hurry to get out of the house, he had forgotten to empty his bladder.
"Alright, we'll pull off that the next exit," his mother said, switching to the left lane.
They drove off the highway and emerged on a small two lane road. Fast food restaurants and gas stations lined either side of the road for a few hundred meters, then nothing but grass and fields stretching on as far as the eye could see.
Matthew pressed his face to the window. Living on the outskirts of D.C, he didn't get to see much untamed and undeveloped land. His brother might be too busy complaining at the lack of amenities. But Matthew was rather enjoying the simple rural beauty.
They pulled into a McDonald's, and Alfred jumped out of the car. Matthew, careful of his injured arm, gingerly unhooked his seatbelt. His parents were already out of the car, he hadn't noticed them leaving. Matthew reached for the door handle.
It was locked.
Fear rose in Matthew's gut, he yanked at the door handle with his good hand.
The door didn't budge.
His family was walking away. They disappeared into the store.
The car was utterly silent. The only thing to be heard was his own panicked breaths shattering the quiet. He could feel the interior of the car closing in on him. He wanted to bang on the windows, push on the door, or even scream at the top of his lungs. If he made enough noise, someone would come. Someone would notice him.
Right?
Maybe?
He felt tears streaming down his face. Shaking uncontrollably he tried to calm himself down by deep breaths.
In and out.
And again in and out.
There had to be a way to unlock the car from the inside. He just had to find it and escape into the restaurant. There had to be people there, right? He didn't need to talk to them, just sit in the corner unnoticed. Yes, this could work.
He crawled into the front seat and fumbled around for a button that would free him from this prison. Still trembling, he bit his lip nervously and unsuccessfully scanned the dashboard for a lock button.
He heard the distinct voice of his brother. He looked out the window and there was Alfred and his parents coming towards him.
He immediately relaxed. Settling back into his seat, he grabbed Alfred's bomber jacket and wiped his eyes.
His family filed into the car. They pulled out of the parking lot and merged back onto the highway. All was back to the way it was.
Before, Matthew had been to be panicked to think clearly. Now that the car was full, he was able to regain his senses. And with that, came questions. He couldn't help but wonder why his parents had locked him in.
Accident? Matthew doubted it. It's not that his parents actually forgot about Matthew, it was just that they chose not to recognize his existence.
That's what he had to believe.
So, no, not an accident. They had locked him in on purpose, despite knowing Matthew could not handle being alone.
Why?
Matthew was never acknowledged by his parents, and he was expected not to seek their attention or in any way make his presence obvious. This meant he didn't talk to his parents, he didn't move or leave anything around the house unless specifically ordered to in indirect comments. In a nutshell, his existence could in no way infringe or affect his parents' lives.
Failure to fade into nothing, resulted in punishment. Even without acknowledging him, there were a lot of things his parents could do to express their displeasure. Not leaving out food, leaving him places, throwing out his meager belongings. They could get very creative when they needed to.
One of their favorite punishments was to trap him places. Whether this was outside the house, in the bathroom, or the car, like they had today. They knew he couldn't stand being alone, and exploited his weakness to teach him to behave. Locking him in the car was a common punishment.
That begged the question of what he done to deserve discipline.
He wracked his brain, breakfast had been fine. He ate the left over pancakes they had set out for him, and it didn't break any of their rules for Alfred to spill syrup. Had he not cleaned the counter top to their satisfaction? No, he was sure he had done a good job on that.
Then there was the whole car fiasco.
He gasped quietly, realizing what he had done. When he had been getting into the car, his father had been closing the door, and Matthew had ripped it out of his hand.
Horror filled him.
That was much worse than when Matthew had screamed at his parents to talk to him when he was six. And then his parents had thrown out the stuffed polar bear he had slept with ever since Alfred rejected it at three weeks old. He had cried for weeks.
He had actually physically defied his father.
He would be punished severely for this; he had no doubt about that. Going to a theme park, there were so many possibilities. What if they finally decided Matthew wasn't worth it? Abandoning him, and returning with his brother only. Finally having the little family they had always wanted.
And he would be all alone.
He felt sick, like he was going to throw up. He would have to be extra careful today.
The rest if the ride was tense, or maybe it was just Matthew. Alfred for one, did not seem affected. Matthew looked over and saw he was playing on their father's phone. His brother must have asked for it sometime while he'd had been absorbed in his thoughts. His parents were chatting amiably, but Matthew knew that was hardly an indicator of their mood. When it came to himself, Mathew could never tell.
Suddenly, the car shifted to the right. He looked out the window, realizing they had arrived.
A man in an orange vest directed them toward a parking spot. They pulled into it, and Alfred jumped out excitedly, grabbing his jacket. Their mother, armed with 50 SPF sunscreen, sprayed the boy and his father before they rubbed it in, and Alfred slung off his jacket. Matthew, who was fairer and more easily burned than either his brother or father, had forgotten to put on sunscreen before they left. The early August sun would not be kind to him today, he realized, glancing up at the cloudless sky. Alfred had slung off his aviator jacket, and after a movements hesitation, Mathew grabbed it.
They passed the famous Chocolate World on their way to the ticket booth. Alfred practically begged their parents to let him buy something, and they agreed that just before they left the park, they would purchase a few bags of candy for him.
They hadn't bought their tickets in advance, so the three of them filed into the line. Matthew let himself drift backward. He knew they wouldn't be buying a ticket for himself, so he would need to find another way in.
He skirted the line that led into the park. He had two options; he could go through the regular way, and act as if nothing was wrong. If someone stopped him, which was more than likely, he could make something up. Usually it worked, but there was no guarantee. It really depended on who found him. Or, he could take a roundabout war somewhere through the woods or something, and sneak into the park. If he was caught, though, there wasn't much he could say.
He saw a group of what looked like ten children, headed by one adult who didn't seem very vigilant over her charges. A brown haired girl was yelling at an albino kid and his blond friend. A red headed boy was throwing what looked like small tomatoes from a lunch bag at another slightly older Spanish boy, with a smile too wide for his face. There were a few others beside. Two blond kids that looked like brother and sister, and two dark skinned boys who were talking among themselves. There were a few other kids toward the front that actually looked like they were doing what they were supposed to. Complete bedlam. With Matthews's innate blandness and mediocrity, he should have no problem blending in with throng of children while sneaking through.
That was the plan, anyway.
Matthew quickly stepped in behind the kids, and no one seemed to notice him.
Well, no one but the white haired kid. As soon as he stepped up behind the blond girl. Burgundy eyes turned towards him. An almost nonexistent eyebrow rose, and an insolent smile materialized on his face. Matthew was sure at that moment that his plan had gone awry.
"Birdy!" He shouted racing toward him. Everyone turned in his direction.
But none of them actually looked at him. Even the blond girl right in front of him was standing on her tiptoes to see over his head.
"Where?" shouted an excited voice.
"Shut up, bastard." grumbled another.
"Awww, I want to see how cute it is," squealed the girl in front him.
"I wonder if we can sell it," pondered the large blond boy.
"You are so immature!" shouted an angry female voice.
"Ohonhonhon, I wonder if we can use it to peep in girls in the locker room."
"And how the hell would that help you at all? The fucking bird would see, not you!" Matthew winced at the use of such strong language.
Despite the commotion, the albino seemed to be the only one who had spotted the mysterious bird. He hurried pasted Matthew and pranced around the nearby area like a mad person, chasing a bird only he could see. The other children quickly lost interest and went back to fighting among themselves.
Matthew watched the boy, who looked about his age, giggle in excitement and hop around.
Abruptly the boy looked up and met Matthews's eyes.
The contact made him shiver.
He never been looked at by his parents, much less in the eye. Alfred usually gave him a millisecond glance, nothing more.
It was disconcerting.
The boy motioned for Matthew to come over, so he hesitantly approached.
He was only ten feet away to begin with, but Matthew took his time. About when he had crossed half the distance, the other boy seemed to grow impatient. Sighing dramatically, he took the final few steps and grabbed his arm.
"So, you want to sneak into the theme park, hmm? Well, let me assure you, you're talking to the right Prussian."
Matthew glanced over in shock. Had he been that obvious? Then he paused, wondering what a Prussian was.
"I see by your confused face, that you are wondering how I figured out your master plan? Hm?" he seemed to be waiting for an answer.
"Uh, I was-um-" the boy looked expectantly at Matthew, and he swallowed. "Well, actually it was—uh—wondering, well-this may sound silly but-" The boy looked at an imaginary watch on his wrist, Matthew quickly swallowed and went on. "But I don't really know what a Prussian is."
The boy slowly turned his gaze up from his imaginary watch, with a look of dismay on his face.
"What are they teaching in schools these days?" the boy shook his head in disgust. "That's why I watch anime. Only place you learn anything." He emphasized it with a shake of his fist.
Matthew wanted to say something else, but he let it go. The guy seemed a little off. And besides, and he knew Matthew was trying to sneak in. Who knew what he would do with that information, if Matthew did not cooperate.
"Well, anyway, you're kinda obvious." The albino continued, confirming Matthew's suspicions. "Walking around all wide eyed and alone, just trying to slip behind us. What? Do you think you are invisible?"
Mathew didn't answer.
The boy regarded him for a moment, Matthew's hopes of getting into the park were quickly dwindling. He resigned himself to stealing a few bags of candy, and spending the day sitting next to the car in the blazing hot sun.
"Well, out of the goodness of my heart, and because I am so amazing, I've decided to help you."
Matthew looked up in shock, the boy was grinning.
He seemed to be waiting for something again. Yet again, though, Matthew had no idea what to say. This was beginning to be a pattern.
"Now I understand," he said, "You don't seem to be very familiar with delicate social cues." he said gently, before continuing on boastfully. "But this is the part where you started praising me."
Matthew stared at him silently, blinking.
"Alright then." He said patting him on the shoulder. His face then morphed into one of extreme malevolence. "Now that you are under the guidance of the awesome me, nothing can go wrong!"
Matthew was really starting to worry.