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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/718123-His-Heart-of-Darkness
Rated: 18+ · Book · Romance/Love · #1592740
He drove me across the ocean and I washed up in your arms
#718123 added February 19, 2011 at 12:09pm
Restrictions: None
His Heart of Darkness

Chapter Three
His Heart of Darkness


Evil is always unspectacular and always human. And shares our bed...and eats at our table. - W.H.Auden

*


Matt has changed his status to active

David: Hey cutie! How you doing!?

Matt: Hey Davie! I’m ok. How are you?

David: Just ok? That doesn’t sound so good? Things are great here but I’ve got all concerned now.

Matt: Oh it’s nothing serious! I slammed my hand in the car door earlier so it’s kinda painful.

: Sorry if I’m typing really slow.

David: Aw you clutz. You ok though?

Matt: *blushes* Yeah. So tell me what’s so brilliant with you!

David: =D I met a super cute girl. her name’s Jess, a friend of my friend Milly that I mentioned before.

Matt: Oh!

Matt: Oh!

David: Her name’s Jess, a friend of my friend Milly that I mentioned before.

Matt: Oh right!.... I thought you were into guys?

David: hahahaha I’m into both. Lol! I’m more into people than into a particular gender I suppose. Anyway, she’s really cool and I got her to give me a date so I’m taking her to an art show downtown that my friend is doing.

Matt: Wow then fairs. Sounds great! I’m sure you’ll have fun.

David: Yeah, I think I like her. So do I have the support of my little friend?

Matt: Sure you do. I hope things go well! So... what sort of art show is it?

David: Well Milly’s rented a room from her aunt or something and has set it up with a whole load of her artwork. She’s pretty good and we want to support her.

Matt: That’s really nice... I wish stuff like that was possible here.

David is typing a message

Matt: Shit sorry David I’ve g2g. Talk soon. Xxx

Matt has logged off

*


“Hello!” The sound of his best friends voice rang down the line, a happy chirp in her tone as she pick him up on the seventh ring, “Hello? Hello...?”

He steadied his breathing, clutching at the phone until the bones of his knuckles seemed to pierce the skin.

“Anyone there...?” She sounded puzzled.

“Hey...”

“Ohmigod Matty is that you?!” Her voice brightened instantly, bubbles under the surface of her words, “Oh my god! How are you calling from an American number? Where are you? I can’t believe you’re in America and you didn’t tell me – I’ve got SO much to tell you about-”

“Alex...” His voice started to crack as relief overwhelmed him and he tried to make himself relax, “Alex, I’m in New York.”

“And you didn’t tell me!? How long has this been planned?! Where are you staying? Did your uncle bring you? You would be there the one time I’m not I mean –”

His heart plummeted, “I... Where are you?”

“I’m on a road trip home from Berkley remember?” Matt slumped back against the wall, sliding down onto the floor, phone almost slipping from numb fingers as the rest of her words registered in his mind, “My brother invited us all up for his graduation and we’re now in LA. I’ve got to tell you about the people here! There’s this great guy who just cooks prawns all day on a BBQ and sells them.”

“That sounds nice,” he tried to smile, his thoughts scattering around a thousand possibilities. Could he hide out here for now? Would he have to tackle the streets? He could fare out in Wycombe for the odd night - but New York wasn’t familiar territory. Would David be angry? And what about money - could he risk using his credit card, leaving a paper trail? What had he been thinking when he dashed off to Heathrow?

“But yeah, so what are you doing in New York?”

Swallowing, he frowned, “I just... um... I came to see you.”

There was a pause and he imagined her face falling, her knees buckling as she sat down, a little crease between her carefully threaded brows and her mouth twisted in a half pout, fingers twirling a strand of flaxen hair, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t... it was just... spur of the moment...”

“I didn’t mean that. I meant, why didn’t you tell me it was getting this bad?”

“I couldn’t. I...”

“You couldn’t have gone to Jay?”

Dropping his voice to a whisper, glancing furtively at the closed door to the sitting room, he slumped further into the wall, “I couldn’t stay with him. I had to get away. I... can we talk about that later? I don’t want to go into this now.”

There was a pause as she sighed, hand no doubt running through her hair and mussing it up into fine static strands.

“Who are you with Matty?”

“I... I’m with David.”

“David?”

“My penpal...”

“What?” her voice raised an octave, “A penpal? You’ve just met up with someone you don’t even know?”

“I do know him. I mean...” He sighed, “I didn’t know what else to do when you weren’t picking up and I trust him...”

“He could have been anyone. He could have been grooming you.”

“I know...”

“No seriously. There are weird people out there Matt. He could have been some paedo or something that’s been cultivating your trust and stuff. It could have been like ‘Taken’ or something!”

“I know Alex, ok?” He snapped, fisting his hair.

“It was really this desperate?”

He hung his head, free hand rubbing the back of his neck, “I don’t want to go into now.”

“Can you trust him? Now I mean?” Her concern warmed him, she was his constant and he felt his eyes heat with the desire to cry but he knew he wouldn’t.

“I think so. He picked me up from the airport and we’re at his friends house. They seem... amazing.”

The smile that lit up her face as she heard his gentle surprise was detectable in her voice as she simply said, “Good.” Then she sighed again, “Look, I can rush the roadtrip, I’ll tell my brother and we’ll think of something. Do you think you can stay with David until I get back? We were meant to be like another week but...”

“I don’t have any money. I can’t be a charity case with them.”

“I can post you some money. Text me your address and tell them we’ll pay them a weeks rent as soon I’m home.”

“I don’t know what I’d do without you.” He sighed, heart still pounding heavily in his chest, knowing he would still have to convince David and Millie and Stefan and Tyson that he’d be no bother. Maybe he could just cook for them or something...

“Call me your fairy godmother.”

He let out a small laugh. It was more to let her know that her light-heartedness was appreciated than anything else.

“I love you, shmoo,” he said softly.

“I love you too baby boy. Now go talk to David and stay safe. Keep me in the loop and turn your real phone off. Battery out.”

“I have.”

“And don’t be scared.”

Smaller and smaller words were exchanged, drawing out their goodbyes as they had since they were little. Eventually though she was gone from the other end and he was left in the sunny, silent sitting room. Phone finally falling to the floor, his hand dropping after it and his head bent low. Along the ridges of his neck, small burns could be seen as his hair fell away about his ears. Stark red rings against his pale skin. The stretch made them throb, the raw, blistered skin straining and trying not to split. Feeling the ache almost made the trembling fear inside him bearable. He found himself relishing the hurt for a moment before his whole body sagged and his mind split into the labyrinthine den of possibilities. If David wouldn’t keep him... what would he do?

*



Between the idea and the reality, between the motion and the act, falls the shadow." – TS Eliot

*


David sat in the kitchen with his computer open, reading the New Yorker webpage and examining the latest news, gossip and trends with only half an eye. It was strange, he realised, how he kept looking to the MSN icon, waiting for it to jump up and down on his screen to tell him Matt was online when really, Matt was in the next room.

He savoured that for a second. Matt was in the next room. This boy that knew him as well as he knew himself. What a strange turn of events. Since breakfast had been cleared away, he’d really just been waiting for Matt to come back from talking to his friend on the phone. Millie and Stefan had told him that they’d be back for dinner but they were arranging a surprise for him and he wasn’t allowed to come with them. Millie had been ‘super’ apologetic about leaving him but had sent him knowing, cheeky glances at him all through breakfast. Her mind was in the gutter, he thought with a snort. Tyson had gone to work not long after the couple had spun away in a whirl of bright colours and disgruntled mumbles.

Did it really take this long to talk to someone? He pondered, looking at the time on the computer clock and frowning. He couldn’t hear Matt’s muted voice anymore. There was silence again, but for the small creeks of the house and the muffled traffic. Standing, resolving himself to simply poke his head round and see what had happened to his little English guest, he tried to squash the niggling voice that told him he was being irrational and intrusive. Leaving the screen up, he paced towards the door, touched the handle and paused. He paced back again. He was being stupid. Of course, Matt was fine. He’d come back when he was ready- Still standing, however, David found himself back at the door, then in the corridor. He sighed. He might as well check now.

Pushing the door to the living room open, David looked around, seeking the boy, spotting him curled on the floor, head on his knees, hands loosely linked around his ankles. Matt was perfectly still, not moving as he entered the room. Softly, David stepped forward, his eyes roving the figure on the floor, catching on the scars along the vertebrate of his neck with a frown, marvelling at the way the blond hair fell in tousled strands over his face.

“Matt?”

He moved closer.

“Are you okay, cutie? What’s wrong?”

“I’m so sorry.” Matt’s words came in a low, almost inaudible whisper.

David crept closer, as if treading towards a cornered kitten rather than a teenager. He picked up the phone, pretending to ignore the flinch the boy made as he came close, placing it on the sofa beside them. Slowly, deliberately gentle, careful not to make any sudden moves, David sat beside the boy whose head was hidden in his knees.

“Matty?” he murmured, keeping his eyes trained on the boy, waiting for any response.

There was a dry laugh - “I’m sorry. I’m not usually this much of a mess.”

“I know.” David replied, without a hint of irony, “Bad news?”

His mind traced back through their encounters so far, trying to figure out what could have brought on this sort of despair. He knew that Matt had been hoping to find some kind of haven with his friend... had he not been able to speak to her? Had something happened to her?

“I guess...” the boy’s hand raked through his hair in what David was beginning to recognise as a nervous gesture, “She’s not here...” Matt looked up at him, the broken expression in his mesmeric blue eyes shocking the American, “I’m so sorry.”

Before he could stop himself, David grabbed the boys hands from where they now gripped at his knees, this time almost wincing at the flutter of panic that lighted upon his friend’s face at the touch. “Don’t you dare be sorry.”

David ran his fingers over Matt’s whitened knuckles, noting the way almost every single one was crooked, especially the two on his left hand. From that time he’d caught his fingers in the car door... he was now beginning to wonder at that - if his step father had done that to his face what was to say he hadn’t abused the boy before.

Matt wasn’t looking at him. He was looking at their hands and his voice cracked as he spoke, “I can’t pay you back, not for anything,” he was trying to explain, rambling on rapidly, “Alex said she’d send me some money but she’s not here. She’s on a roadtrip and might be at least a week and I can’t ask you to put me up that long. I don’t even know how long you’re staying here and I’m so sorry for putting you in this position. I never would have...”

“Matty, just stop a sec,” David hushed him, rubbing circles on the backs of the boys hands, “Breath, buddy, it’s ok.” He waited a moment before continuing, watching the averted eyes as the boy seemed to attempt to hide behind his bangs, “You’re not putting me in any position that I wouldn’t willing put myself in. If putting you up for a week is what you need, I can do that. Millie won’t mind. The guys will be fine with it if you give them a chance. And I seriously don’t mind having you around. So stop worrying.”

Blue eyes finally met his again and there was a strange look of awe, perhaps surprise, longing... David tried not to analyse. If Matt was going to confide in him then he would in his own time.

“So why don’t we figure out something to do.”

*

Three Years Prior

Number 64 Granville Drive was a simple one-up-one-down, brown bricked house in the middle of High Wycombe. It had three bedrooms and a living room, a box room, a bathroom, a kitchen with enough space for a small table and four chairs and a small patch of grass out the back that sufficed for a garden. It had a red door, paint chipped and crumbling, and a front path that led to a gate that was bent so that it clung to it hinges like a desperate man to a life-vest.

Matt approached from the bus stop, eyes lowered, blond hair swept around his face by the bitter, March wind. It was a typical English spring day, with the cold-eyed sun glinting in a blinding, blue sky, the breeze snatching at the thin, raggedy form of the fifteen year old.

By the time he’d opened the danger-red door, he knew his fate was inevitable. He could hear the shouting and the hysterical wailing from his mother, he could smell the burnt food. Dropping his bag by the door as it clicked shut behind him, he heard a single order: “Get upstairs boy!”

There was no point in trying to avoid it, if he left, it’d be worse next time. Maybe, he thought, maybe he’d just be yelled at. Or maybe, he thought, maybe he’d just get a slap or two. Nothing too serious. But as he trudged upstairs, trailing his hand on the banister, he knew, deep down, that he wasn’t likely to avoid anything.

Reluctantly, he entered his room. It was almost barren. The mattress on its wire bedstead was adorned with a single pillow and a single, woollen blanket. The window lacked curtains. The walls lacked decoration other than the long bookshelf at the end of the bed that stood adjacent to his plastic desk with its obsessively tidy lines of files. His clothes were all in the opposite corner, hanging on a metal clothing rail he’d stolen from outside M&S. Sighing, he went to his bed, pulled out the three year old hunk of crunching metal that was his Acer computer and turned it on.

He listened carefully to the silence that had fallen on the house at his return. If he strained his ears he could still make out the sniffling of his feeble mother but it was so dim that it could have been his imagination. He listened for the sound of a chair being pushed back, the scrape of the metal legs on the linoleum floor. He was waiting for the thudding, onerous footfalls on the stairs, the hush as his stepfather paused to draw a heavy breath, the last three dull thumps as the man reached the landing. He knew then that there were only moments before he’d be once more at the Kruegar-style mercy of a man-made-monster.

Matt has logged on.

David’s profile wasn’t active yet. It was probably a good thing. He could concentrate then... He didn’t dare to start his homework or open a book. He didn’t want to be accused of disrespect. Laziness was better than disrespect.

And then there it was. The scrape. The footfalls. The breath.

Matt shuddered. He closed the computer and slid it under his pillow. He waited.

“Not working huh? You lazy faggot.”

“Yessir.”

Thrown from the bed by the front of his shirt, he was already on the floor before he registered the pain of landing. A foot connected with his ribs and he scrabbled on the ground, desperately pulling his knees and tucking his head into his chest. Another kick caught his back. Hands on his shoulders, shaking him. Words, vile, cruel and unrelenting were spat over his head, all too familiar for him to bother understanding. He gasped as he found his arms pulled away from his face, his stepfather removing his from the safety of the foetal position.

Queer. Cocksucker. Faggot. Freak. Waste of space. Bitch. Mummy’s boy. Fuckwit.

Dimly he heard the bleep of an MSN message. He tried to struggle out of the man’s painful grip but the man was straddling his waist and snarling into his face, sending spit flying into his eyes, catching on his mouth and he his body growled with anxiety. Giving up just made it worse.

Eventually, things seemed to calm, his mother could be heard crying in the background. Her mascara no doubt half way down her cheeks. The man rose off him, leaving him rumpled and heaving on the ground. Sprawled like a ragdoll, he could see - as he tipped his head back - the terrified eyes of his younger sister peering through her door at him. When they suddenly widened, he knew that their stepfather had seen her watching.

Terror bled him then, spurting through his muscles as he desperately tried to move, pushing himself away as quickly as possible, only succeeding in lifting his aching torso on his left arm. A fist caught his chin as a foot came down on his left hand. Something snapped. A peculiar popping crack came from within and he screamed. Snot and tears streamed down his face as agony spliced through his hand to his wrist and elbow. Collapsing backwards again, he clutched his fingers to his chest and saw his sisters door was now closed.

His stepfather left. Matt bit his lip and tried to mute his whimpers. If only she hadn’t looked... didn’t she know by now... he only ever served as an example.

*


All secrets are deep. All secrets become dark. That's in the nature of secrets.- Cory Doctorow

*


Matt leaned into David’s shoulder, half dozing, just listening to the American’s soothing drawl as his friend designed plans for them to do over the next week. David planned on staying for a couple of weeks, catching up with a few friends whilst he was around before he headed off to university again.

David’s body was comfortable. His hands felt warm against Matt’s skin, the gentle touch on his palms and fingers soothing. His long legs stretched out in front of them, the dark blue jeans clinging just enough for Matt to notice their muscular curve.

David was gorgeous. He knew that. He also knew that David was safe. He felt safe – content, and strangely cared for. They were just too friends sitting on the floor. Normal.

“You know- I’m really not always this emotional,” he said finally, interrupting David’s rambling, “But I really am grateful. I don’t... people aren’t... I...”

“Just imagine that we’re the fourth generation Italian family that rescues you.” David teased, lightening the tone instantly.

Matt let out a short laugh and his mouth curled into a smile, “Does that make Alex, you?”

“Maybe. But I don’t think I want to be replaced. I think I like my role in our story.”

“Me too.” Matt grinned, “So what was it you thought we should do today? Because if you don’t make me move I really won’t.”

David laughed this time - a rich, warm laugh that Matt knew would stay with him even after he left. “Well it’s nice to know you were listening.”

“I was listening.” To your voice... the voice in his head added.

“Don’t worry about it. I was suggesting that we maybe go get you some necessities if you’re here for a few days more. You can’t have much in that one rucksack of yours.”

Matt looked sheepish for a moment and he nodded, “I still only have the money from yesterday...”

“That’s no problem. I’ll pay for it, and whenever you can, you can pay me back. Besides, I have a job, what’s the point in earning all this money if I can’t spend it on important shit like this?”

A blush thread itself into Matt’s cheeks and he bent his head away from David, trying to hide it, “Okay... Shall we... shall we get up and go then?”

“Yeah.”

Neither of them moved. They both chuckled.

“Okay. On three.”

“One.”

“Two.”

“Three.”
© Copyright 2011 Dr Matticakes Myra (UN: dragoon362 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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