Matthew

Prolouge: Matthew

The room was hot, the heat brushed against his skin as if it were alive, wrapping itself around him in an embrace he couldn't break free of. His lungs burned with every breath he took, the intensity of the air around him slowly suffocated him. Every blink sent shooting pain to his skull, like fireworks erupting in his eye sockets exploding towards his brain.

Yet, he felt none of it. He didn't feel the ache in his knees as they absorbed the impact when they buckled beneath him. He didn't feel the air around him growing thicker, he didn't feel the flames roaring beside him.

All he could feel was the cotton of his little brothers shirt as he fisted it. The strands of the boys hair felt like millions of tiny needles cutting through his palm as he lifted the boys head to his chest. His tears scorched trails down his cheeks running across his jaw dripping from his chin to the boys hair.

"Anthony?" He cried, cradling the boys head. When he adjusted his crouched position he fell back catching himself with his free hand, as he tried to steady himself he found the arm of another boy, he weaved their fingers together, holding tight to the limp hand.

"Timothy?" Both his brothers were here, both his brothers were gone.

Wailing in agony, his sore eyes found two more lifeless figures across the room. His mother and father. Another burst of pain shot through his chest, he gasped for air, his lungs wheezing as they took in more thick black smoke.

His eyes grazed over the room finding something unfamiliar by his father, he stumbled forward through the amber colored room to pick up the object. A gun. His fathers beloved revolver. A family heirloom passed down since his great grandfather in the second world War.

"Matty?" A voice called from the door. It was a young boy that came through the flames. The boy froze looking at the revolver in the older ones hands then around to the bodies at his feet.
"Matty we gotta go," the voice called again, as if on the end of a tunnel.
He was small, the boy who took the gun wiped it off with his shirt and threw it to the ground.
The young boy dragged Matthew from the blazing room.

An ambulance, a police car and a firetruck roll up to a house. What does the Officer West say to the boy hooked up to an oxygen mask, who wished to be laying in the destroyed family room of his childhood home with his brothers.

"I'm sorry kid, they're gone."

***

A few days later Matthew stood in the ruins of the house he had grown up in. Staring at clumps of ash and rubble, he pressed his eyes shut letting the tears run freely.
He wandered down the hall he knew too well, through the door of the family room where the bodies had been found.

As he gazed around the room, a ray of sunlight reflecting on cold metal, shone into his eyes. He squinted stepping towards it.
His fathers revolver lay on the ground tucked just under the couch hidden by debris. He crouched down to pick it up, standing in place turning it over in his hands.

"You know this is still a crime scene right?" Matthew jumped, hiding the gun in the pocket of his hoodie spinning to face the voice in the door.

"Oh, its just you." He let out a breath of relief as the boy came closer. He watched Matthew's hands closely as he played with the gun.

"We should go, before someone catches us here," the young one, no older then twelve, reached to take the gun from the older teen. The older one jerked his hands away pressing the gun to his chest glaring at the boy.

"Your finger prints will be on that now." The boy insisted as he pulled his sleeve over his hands trying to take the gun again.

"I- I want to keep it."

"Matty, you need to leave the murder weapon at the crime scene. Besides, you're the main suspect, what if they find it on you?" The boy reached out holding Matthew's forearm looking up at him with pleading eyes, "you can't take it."

"You- you can." The boys eyes blew wide with shock he looked up at the older male. "It was- it was in my fathers hand last night. My-my fa-f-father did this. P-please, just hold onto it for a little while. I-I swear I'll t-take it ba-ck i just need to find out why."

The boy sighed and nodded slowly,
"Can we leave? Before someone finds us?"
The teen nodded, wrapping his arm around the boys shoulders leading the pair out of the room.

Matthew flicked open the chamber, to find a lone bullet still hidden inside. A single bullet, with an 'M' scribbled on it. His heart fell to his feet as he stayed stuck in place.

"Matty?" He couldn't hear the boy calling to him as he turned to look at where his family had lain just days before. His scared eyes fell back to the 'M' on the bullet.

It had been meant for him, whoever did this wasn't finished.
If they were still out there, they'd be coming for him.