I traipse back to my home in the cold, and as I turn the corner, I see all the curtains open.
'Huh? It's about 7am, and everyone's awake.' I wondered to myself.
Regardless, I think over my plan in my head.
'Just go in, and straight upstairs to your room. Easy Matt, easy.' I think.
Soon I find myself turning the handle and quietly entering. It's deadly silent, and I know the smallest creak in the floorboards would make everyone know that I am back.
I tiptoe up the stairs and too my room. As I open the door, the familiar sight of my posters, bed and guitar are visible. Knowing I don't have much time, I grab a rucksack and start to fill it with stuff I'll probably use.
I lie on my bed for a bit, appreciating how comfy it really is. After about 15 minutes, I stand back up.
After one last look around my room, I sigh and leave.
Now, to tackle the stairs.
I get to the last step with no noise, when-
CREAK.
I freeze, not moving, when I hear muffled shouting. Suddenly, the door to my right crashes open, and my parents fly out, followed by my grandparents.
"MATTHEW JAMES BELLAMY." My father thunders loudly, and I take my foot off the step.
I can't even speak. I'm petrified.
"WHAT GIVES YOU THE PERMISSION TO JUST WALK INTO OUR HOUSE LIKE THIS?" My mother shouts, and I frown.
"What do you mean-"
"If you walk out of this house like you did yesterday, after screaming at your mother, you're not coming back." Grandma says sternly.
"W-What? All I did was come out to them!" I turn to my parents. "You should have had the balls to accept your son is fucking gay."
"MATTHEW, LANGUAGE-"
My father cuts of grandpa with a wave of his hand, and glares at me.
"We're better off without you. Who needs a son who has depression, anxiety, schizophrenia, and is gay?" He hisses, and each words feels like a punch to the stomach.
"You made me like this. You made me fucked up, dad." I say flatly. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Paul watching from the top of the stairs, staring at me, almost in a sorry way. He's always been the best child; good grades, nice and polite, no mental health problems...
Then there's me.
"Your attitude to us is absolutely disgusting, Matthew. How can we call you a son?" My mother says.
"And how can I call you parents? I thought parents were meant to love their kids UNCONDITIONALLY!" I retort, my voice raising. I feel tears prick my eyes, but I won't spill them.
Not yet, at least.
"And how are we meant to love the fucked up child?" My mother replies, smirking, and I see Paul get up in shock.
They start to taunt me, shouting insults and advancing on me slowly.
"Stop it!" I try and yell, but no one listens.
"GET AWAY FROM HIM!" Paul yells extremely loudly, making them stop. He runs down the stairs, and stands in front of me.
"You might hate him, for whatever reason, but I don't. And I wont watch my own brother go through this. You stay the fuck away from him, let him live his fucking life. So what if he is struggling mentally? You're meant to help him, not cast him away as if he were a mistake." Paul says loudly, and my dad steps forward.
"He was a mistake. He proved that long ago... He is no Bellamy."
I lunge for him instantly, and strike him across the face, making his nose start to bleed heavily.
"MATT!" Paul yells, warning me of the demon like hags starting to run for me.
I turn quickly, and dash out of the house, hearing my parents and grandparents screaming for me. Nevertheless, I carry on, all the way to the woods at full pelt. Soon enough, I find my treehouse and scramble up it, my lungs feeling on fire.
I curl up into a ball, and start to cry heavily. My sobs become choked as my throat closes up quickly.
Hello again, Matthew. Missed my company?
I stop instantly, shuddering at the voice.
It's back, after nearly a year.
"No, no no no. Go away. Leave me alone." I whisper.
I never left you alone, Matthew. I've always been here, watching and waiting.
I choose to ignore the deep voice in my head, and I grab a bottle of water out of my bag and sip it.
You should kill yourself.
I put the bottle away.
You don't deserve this life. Or any life.
I check my watch I brought with me. It was only 1:00pm, and I was exhausted.
You will kill yourself.
"No." I mumble, dragging my coat over me.
I want to see the blood seeping from your wrists, watch your eyes roll back as death takes you. That's what I want.
I close my eyes, curling into a ball.
I get what I want, you should know that, Matthew James.
I whimper audibly.
I'll see you tomorrow. Maybe not in the same form, but I'll see you.
And finally, sleep takes me into it's arms.
~~
I wake up to hear a faint tapping noise. Without bothering to open my eyes, I grumble "shut up." at whatever it is.
"Sorry, was I disturbing you?"
I jump at the male voice, and open my eyes to see a blonde guy sat at the other side of my treehouse.
My initial thought is 'run! He wants to kill you!' .
Now it's 'wow, he's... hot.'
"Who- how- me?" I stumble over my words, and the guy chuckles.
He has a cute smile.
"I'm Dominic." He says, shuffling closer and holding out a hand.
I shake it, and instantly all my worries disappear,
I forget to question where he had come from, or what his second name even was.
And as he wraps his cold arms around me, I realise- I have someone here for me.
YOU ARE READING
In your world ~ Belldom
FanfictionMatthew Bellamy often finds himself alone at times, no one to comfort him or to help him. It all changes when he meets a blonde haired, grey eyed friend in the woods..
