My Neighbor I Know So Well (AmeCan)

He'll Wake Up, He'll Be Okay...Right? (America)

7 January, 1930

Well, here I am. I'm in Canada, but not at Matthew's house. No, instead I'm in the hospital. It began when I pulled up in his driveway. Walking up the steps of his porch and stopping at the door, I hesitated for a little before knocking. No one answered and I knocked a couple more times before heading back to my car and waiting there. As I was descending the steps, my eyes spotted his backyard gate. Going to the gate, I checked the latch to see if it was locked. It wasn't. Why wasn't it? Of course I became unsteady because I was obviously entering his backyard under no notice. Striding to the backdoor, I turned one of the handles and opened the door. Has he forgotten to lock his doors? I don't think that's usual for him to do.

Once inside I started calling his name. There was no reply, so I kept moving room to room to find anyone. Just passing through rooms gave me a rush of memories of when I first stayed the night to when he sent me back home. Returning to the kitchen from searching the whole downstairs, I scanned the counters and spotted a piece of paper. It had the address and location of a nearby hospital. My curiosity only grew into worry from all the possibilities that ran through my mind. Running up the staircase and almost tripping on the way up, I paced the halls yelling out his name. Begging him to answer, begging anyone for the latter. Not one voice responded. Stopping at his door, I took a deep breathe before turning the knob and entered. The sheets were twisted and all of the screens were closed. The area near his desk was cluttered with scrunched up balls of paper as well as a pile of research papers, and the only displaced object there was his open diary.

Me being the curious nut-head I am, I hovered over his diary to see the pages. Yes, how rude of you Alfred to allow yourself to go and invade Mat's privacy like that behind his back! Here's what it read:

31 December, 1929

When will this crisis subside until nothing of it is left? This, I'll never know. There is a stinging pain in my heart that's been burning since five days ago, and it's only getting worse. I tried telling someone about it, tried asking if they could take me to the hospital for a checkup. They didn't have the funds to take me there nor did they have the strength to. I'm becoming too weak to move about this house. Every step sends shocks of pain through my veins and I can't help but stay still until it goes away. If it'll ever. I'll write down the address to the nearest hospital and see if they're still open. Most are either closed down or scavenged.

I know this is stupid, but I've been thinking of fleeing Canada. Temporarily. It might not do much, might not do anything at all, but I can't stand to stay here anymore and suffer. Anywhere is fine with me, I just don't want to settle down and wake up to the same thing. I don't think going far away is within my power, so I'll try to catch a flight to the United States. There may be a chance that one of their airports are open and there may be a chance I can find a flight here that's open as well.

When I'm there, I could try to do two things: Seek immediate help from a hospital to receive my much needed doctor's checkup, and see if I could find Alfred. Piles of research paper have took up half of my desk that hold the answers of what to do exactly. Now all I have to do is talk this through and have my plan go into action. It's not as easy as just telling them what to do and they'll do it, if you're wondering.

I have to apologise to Al when I get the chance to. I need him to know that I'm not mad at him anymore, that I forgive him. I understand why he didn't want me to keep poking at him, it was foolish of me to have taken it the wrong way.

Alfred, I take back everything I said to you. This is a dark time for the both of us, for we are suffering together. I cannot tell who has it worse, if it can get any worse, but I promise I'll do all I can to fix this. For everyone. For us. As small as I am, I will try all I can to set things straight. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I just want everything to go back to the way it was. I can't take living like this in constant fear and regret anymore. I need to get away from it all. Al, please, forgive me for all of the cruel things I've done to you, all of the mean things I've said to you, all of the things I did to hurt you. Listen to me, I'm unraveling! I'm breaking apart and spilling my guts to you. Is it not enough? What else do you want me to say? What else do you want me to confess? What else do you want me to say sorry for? Tell me for the love of god! Just tell me and I'll say it!

What's the use screaming at a piece of paper? They're not him. They don't say anything back. I used to find the silence comforting, but now it's annoying.

Listen to me, I'm unraveling. It's pathetic.

Your friend, Matthew

Jesus Christ, Mat, I didn't realize how guilty you were until I read the entry. I should be the one saying sorry, my behavior was ignorant, and you didn't deserve any of it. You shouldn't be the one to apologize. It should be me. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. However, I feel that saying this alone won't help in any way.

So, in a rush to my car, I took his diary, the papers, and the address from the kitchen and drove off. At first the receptionist wouldn't let me see him because visiting hours were over, but I kept pleading her that I was a family member. She finally budged and told a nurse to lead me to him. Now here I am, writing on my lap beside Matthew's body in his room. How did he get here? No one was at his house when I came in and I don't think anyone was there when he wrote either. Someone could've found him lying somewhere in the streets and took him here or he got here himself. I'm not sure.

He doesn't look like he's sleeping, but the doctors told me that his heartbeat was beating at an okay pace. 'Okay' isn't enough to keep me from worrying, I want an absolute answer. I hate to hang on to the fact that the doctors are lying to me about having 'rest assured'. I want to be promised that Matthew will be safe, I want to see him wake up. I'm not going to allow a day to pass over that I won't close my eyes and sleep. I'll stay awake if I have to!

Matthew, please, wake up. I'm sorry. Do you hear me? I'm sorry!

Your keeper, Alfred