Human - phan

Matt's Story: A Matter of the Heart

The flat was very cold and very bare, but to Matt it seemed only as hostile as a blank canvas. This was theirs, all theirs, to fill with their life.

"God, did they not think to put the heating on?" Knuckles said angrily. "The moving in date's been set for weeks. I'm going to find the boiler."

Matt wandered from room to room. It was very small, but to him it felt like a castle compared to his one room back at Oak Tree House. There were two bedrooms, a bathroom, and open plan living room and kitchen. It had taken a lot of persuading, but the landlord had finally agreed to let them paint it, so long as they covered it all up with white again before they left. They hadn't given a single thought to what they were going to paint, but already Matt's mind was working. Together, they could create something truly extraordinary. They just needed to save up for some paint.

Knuckles joined Matt in the lounge, looking uncertain. He gave Matt a half smile and scratched his head. "So. This is us."

Matt nodded. "This is us. This is ours."

"And maybe, once we can prove we've got a decent income, it can be Ellie's, too?" Knuckles said, but it was more of a question. Now that they were here, now that they had it all to themselves, did Matt still want to share? They only had two bedrooms. It would be quite a squeeze.

Matt smiled. "Yes. Ellie's too. Soon, I hope."

"I hope so too."

"Cool. By the way,"

"Yeah?"

"Shotgun the double bed."

*

The main problem with Knuckles getting a full time job at Oak Tree House was his CRB check. The authorities spent a long time agonising over it, while Knuckles waited less than impatiently at home with Matt.

"It's not bloody complicated," he complained. "Either they listen to the Oak Tree clan, or they don't. Either I'm a dangerous criminal or a reformed individual looking to give back to the community."

"It's only because it's children."

"I did a lot of messed up things in my life, but I never hurt a child. Not ever."

"Except when you were also a child."

"Yeah, well, thankfully that doesn't count."

"You hurt some of the younger children when you were at school." Matt pointed out.

"I know. Do you think I'm proud of it? Of course not. I used to justify it by saying that I was trying, but I wasn't trying hard enough." Knuckles slumped himself down on the threadbare sofa, finally tired of pacing. "Maybe I was resentful. I don't know. I just wanted to help the messed up kids, you know? I was so fiercely protective of my friends and the little, broken children I found wherever I went. And sometimes they needed to let it out. And I had anger issues. Still do, I guess. I understood the therapeutic nature of letting it out. I drew black and white lines. Either you were happy and healthy, or you weren't. The healthy ones wouldn't be affected by things. They had a supportive, loving family to go home to. It was only fair that those who weren't so lucky could take advantage of that, you know? Obviously it wasn't as simple as that. I hurt a lot of people. And now I'm paying for it."

Matt shuffled over to lay his head on Knuckles' shoulder quietly. "I think they'll pass you. They're all about reform and rehabilitation and stuff these days. I mean if they don't you could probably kick up a fuss. How can you possibly be expected to become a good citizen if they don't let you?"

Knuckles leaned his head on Matt's. "Somehow I don't think the media will side with the messed up, ugly-ass thug living in a council house over a police verdict." He said with a snort.