13
Matthew slouched into his truck, having skipped orchestra. The school grounds were vacant, hardly a sound disturbed the parking lot. He drove back home, feeling too lousy to go anywhere else. He was to drive to one of the large buildings, scale it to the top, and fall to the ground. He felt the weight of his actions would pull him down much faster than he could imagine. He sighed and clambered out, making the trip to his room. He went inside and tossed the keys on the couch. He didn't hear it jingle, however.
He slid off his jacket and backpack, chucking them against the wall and knocking the table over, feeling the surge of violence swell up in his breast and engulf his mind. His face was red and a fire had ignited in his mind. He blamed Kat for enticing him with her body in the first place, as if it was her fault her body was the way it is. Eventually he realized that his logic was most heavily flawed and decided on blaming himself.
He cursed loudly and stopped dead when he heard a faint cough. He whipped around and faced the couch.
Laying on it, beard covering his chin, his eyes bloodshot and withdrawn, countless beer bottles cluttering the couch, stained shirt, and scowl, was Alfred.
"A-Al…?"
"What happened while I was gone? Do you do this everyday?" He asked casually, pointing to the mess Matthew had caused.
"No…"
Alfred shook his head.
"Well what happened then?"
"My girlfriend is pregnant."
"How?"
"The stork came by."
"Didn't know she was a fan of bestiality."
"Shut up."
"Then don't smartass me."
Matthew bit his lip and felt another wave of tears well up. Alfred was never so snarky before. Prison time had damaged him.
"Al… I'm so happy to see you." He bent down and enveloped his bony brother in a hug. Alfred patted his back, his breath smelling sourly of cigarettes and alcohol.
"I'm sorry for being like this. I thought you didn't come home for another forty minutes."
"I don't, I decided to ditch."
"Well, looks like we're both ruined."
"I'm running away."
Alfred was taken aback. He swung his legs over the couch and stood, scratching his chest. He gripped Matthew's shoulder.
"Why?"
Matthew jerked away. "Do I need to paint you a picture? I'm running away with Kat and that baby."
"Can't she abort?"
"She doesn't want to."
"Did you ask her?"
"To hell with that!"
Matthew spun away, turning into his room and digging around his closet. He tossed clothing he felt he needed behind him, landing in a sloppy pile on the bed. Alfred had followed him in, watching curiously.
"Mattie, where do you plan to go?"
"Out west, somewhere far, somewhere where no one will bother us. I can pretend to be deaf or something, so no one will bother."
"What about when someone tries to sign language something and you can't respond?"
"I'll pretend to be deaf and blind, then."
"Someone could find a way."
"Deaf, dumb, and blind then."
"Matthew…"
"What?"
"How will you find work?"
"I don't know! I just want out!"
"You are sixteen."
"I am, so?"
"So, you aren't ready for this."
"To hell with that!"
"Stop saying that!"
"Why?" Matthew rounded on him, his lip curled and his face sanguine and emitting a faint wave of heat.
"Stop sending everything to hell! You don't need to run away, talk it out! Worst case is you'll never be allowed to see your girlfriend again, and she's only a High school girlfriend. She wouldn't last anyway."
"You don't get it!" Matthew found himself spewing back what Kat had told him. He was surprised, mildly, but too angry to come to terms with it.
"Don't get what?"
"I love her! I love her more than anything. I'm afraid to lose her."
Alfred scoffed and realized he didn't want to take the role of an angry parent. He left the apartment all together, in his t-shirt and ripped pants, and something else he had tucked in his pocket. Matthew just barely caught sight of it when he turned away. He calmed several notable degrees and rushed to the door, looking out into the afternoon sky, searching for Alfred.
"What are you doing?!" He rushed down the stairs, leaving the door wide open, pale light spilling in.
Alfred looked at him. The gun on his back, looped into his belt, was glistening in the sunlight.
"What…?" Matthew heaved, feeling his asthma kindle within him.
Alfred pulled out the gun lightning speed and aimed it at Matthew's forehead.
"I need to go back."
Matthew blinked, too astonished to utter a word.
"To jail, I mean."
Matthew still didn't reply.
"I grew too comfortable to it."