Chapter Two - Damon
My face scares people, I think.
Not my brother, though. He’s not scared of me. He understands that a face is no more than that – a face.
Like a book cover is no more than a cover. It’ll hint at what’s inside, but it doesn’t tell you much. It could have the prettiest cover in the world…and hold the crappiest story. Or the cover could be plain and dull, a cloth cover. But the story itself could be amazing.
My face is, for lack of a better word, ugly. Scary. Different.
My story is tragic. But amazing.
What hurts me most is that my little sister is scared of me now. She doesn’t believe I’m the same old Damon Matthews. She refuses to. Ever since I came back from the hospital, she’s avoided me like I’m the plague.
She’s only four, she doesn’t know what’s going on, but it still hurts. Every time she rushes out of a room when it’s just me in their, every time she refuses to sit next to me at breakfast, it feels as though she’s tearing off a corner of my heart, tearing and tearing till there’s nothing left.
“Quit moping around,” Paul yells, chucking a pillow at me.
Ugh. Sometimes it bugs me that he doesn’t treat me any nicer than he used to.
But I would hate for him to act like I’m weak, fragile, when I’m not.
I grab the Wii controller and wave it at him. “Wanna play?” I ask.
He nods. “Sure. Mario Kart?”
I pretend to think about it. Like there’s any thought necessary! Kart is the best thing since sliced bread.
“Hmm,” I say, “well that’s a toughie…”
“To play, or not to play?” Paul says. “I totally agree.”
“Get ready to have your arse kicked to the middle of next week, Paulie-Boy!” I laugh.
I miss this. I mean, I miss doing this with my mates. Paul’s awesome, but he’s not Kyle. Back before the accident, Kyle and I were like the boy version of BFFL’s. Now we’ve drifted apart. I think I embarrass him.
“Yeah, right,” Paul scoffs.
I know he won’t go easy on me. Everyone else does, and it annoys me no end. I mean, I have a bunch of scars on my face, sure. But I can still play Wii, for crying out loud! It’s not like I have no hands!
“Right, I’ll set it up, you get some crisps,” Paul orders.
I leave the room and head to the kitchen, ready to grab some Pringles. Maddie is sitting at the table with her colouring book, drawing quietly. She’s always been quiet.
“Hey,” I say, hoping against hope that maybe, just maybe, today she’ll like me. Today she won’t be scared.
She looks up, and her eyes widen. She presses herself against the back of her chair, as far away from me as she can.
“Please don’t hurt me,” she whimpers.
I draw a chair opposite her suddenly. She flinches at the unexpected movement.
“Look, Maddie. I’m still Damon. I’m still your big brother, who used to give you piggy-back rides round the garden. Remember?”
“Damon!”
“What do you want, Maddie?”
Maddie looks hurt. “Why are you angry, Damon?”
I sigh. “I’m not angry, Mads. Just…tired.”
“Oh. Can I have a piggy back ride?”
“No, Maddie. I’m tired, remember?”
Maddie’s eyes well up with tears.
“Oh, crap,” I mutter. “Not the eyes!”
Maddie lower lip trembles. “Please, Damon?” she sniffs.
I sigh again, this time in defeat. “Fine.”
I kneel down, and, with a squeal of joy, she bounds over to me and jumps on my back.
“Argh!” I cry out. “You’re too heavy, Maddie!”
She giggles, locking her arms round my neck. “Nuh uh!”
“Can’t…breathe…” I gasp.
“Love you, Damon!”
“Can you remember, Maddie?”
Maddie stares at me for an age. I sigh, and start to get up when she speaks.
“I remember.”
I freeze. “You do?”
“Yes. And you gave me your pop-eye. Thank you.”
I feel something, I think it’s joy. I want to cry in happiness. But I refuse. I’m a guy! And I’m not a wimp.
“Do you want to play Mario Kart, Maddie?” I ask, fingers crossed.
She thinks for a while. “No.”
With that, she bounds down from the chair and skips away.
I think I’ve gotten through to her.
I punch my fist into the air, a grin spreading across my face. As long as the people I love love me back, I’m good.
*
“No!!” Paul yells, falling from the sofa onto the floor as I beat him again.
I laugh, stuffing my face with Pringles. “Loser-say-what?” I say, too fast for him to understand it.
“Ha,” he says, standing up to jab a finger in my face. “I ain’t gonna fall for that one! Those days are over, my friend!”
I grin. “Really?”
“Yup.”
“But I still kicked your arse.”
“No, man, I let you!” he insists.
“Sure you did. Rematch?”
“Definitely, kid, definitely.”
“Don’t hold back this time,” I tell him.
He cracks his knuckles. “No way, man! Gonna win this thing for sure!”
I pick a track. “Let’s get this show on the road,” I say.
We spend the next hour or so racing each other, with me beating Paul every time. Well, we both know I’m the king of Mario Kart. He shouldn’t have challenged me, huh?
“Damon?”
I look up at the sound of my name. “Yeah?” I yell back.
Mum comes into the living room. “We’ve got to go to hospital, honey. The doctor wants to do a quick check up.”
I scowl. I hate going to the hospital. When I’m just hanging around the house, I can forget that I’m a freak now. But when I go to the hospital – when I so much as leave the house – other people won’t let me forget. They think it’s okay to just blatantly stare at me.
Don’t they realise I’ve already hurt enough? Don’t they realise it’s killing me inside?
“Come on, Dame,” Paul says, hauling me up. “I’ll come. Moral support.”
I smile at him, but it’s not a real smile.
“Cheer up, Charlie,” Mum says.
That’s a standing joke. Well, not joke exactly, but just something we do in my family. As little kids, me and Paul loved the film Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. We watched it twenty four seven. We saw it at the cinemas because Mum fancied Johnny Depp at the time, and then the idea of ‘chocolate land’ hooked Paul and me in. So whenever we were gloomy, Mum would sing that song Charlie’s mum sang when he didn’t get the golden ticket or something.
Cheer up Charlie. Now she just says it from time to time.
The drive to the hospital is silent. At some point, Mum gets fed up with it, and turns on the radio. I guess she actually misses the normal screaming and shouting and arguing for a change.
Let me get this straight,
Do you want me here?
As I struggle through
Each and every year.
And all these demons
They keep me up all night.
To be honest, when I first heard Blink 182’s comeback song, I was a bit disappointed. I prefer their old stuff. But this song has grown on me.
We pull up outside the big hospital, and I swallow the nerves gathering inside my stomach.
Oh, man.
I’d rather be anywhere but here.