lostmyhead ( ✓ )

chapter five

Matty really liked looking at the sky. There was just something extremely satisfying about staring up at the fluffy clouds that seemed to be permanently tinted grey. He liked knowing that one day soon, he might just be amongst those clouds.

He didn't particularly believe in God, and wasn't religious in the slightest, but he did like to believe that there was a way for the deceased to watch over their loved ones - like how he believed his Nana was watching over him. He missed his Nana.

Matty knew that nobody ever really understood life until after it was over, but he liked to believe he'd already figured out the meaning of life when he was at a very young age. When he was fourteen, he'd had a rather rude awakening to the world. That was the year he'd really realized that his childhood was over, and he needed to start acting more responsible. It was the year that his childhood girlfriend - Gemma James - broke up with him. His depression at the time had been quite ridiculous; and he'd spent months staying up until the early morning contemplating why he still existed, and found comfort in some weed that an upperclassmen gave him, and believed himself to be the greatest philosopher to have ever lived.

Regardless, Matty really liked looking up at the sky. It put him at peace. He loved those brief chances he'd get at climbing onto the tour bus's rooftop and staring after the constellations, picturing himself among them too. It was very rare for the bus to be stopped at nighttime, but when it was, the boys knew to just let him be alone on the roof. Staring at the clouds now, however, he couldn't help but regret never letting George know how much he loved the clouds, and the sky, and the fact that they were most likely not the only living things in the universe. He loved the conspiracy of it all.

As his gaze remained fixated upon a particularly interesting cumulus cloud, he heard someone clear their throat behind him - scaring him almost half to death, if he'd not already been halfway there as is.

"Am I interrupting anything?" It was George. Immediately, Matty turned to face the brown haired lad, pulling him over to where Matty was sat on the rooftop.

"Come, George: the sky is telling a story." Matty smiled, nuzzling his head onto George's shoulder as his gaze fixated itself on the atmosphere once more.

After a good hour, just when they knew the bus driver would be returning soon, George cleared his throat again.

"Matty-"

"George. Be quiet. You'll miss the best part." Matty spoke, bringing his finger to George's lips in a gesture to silence him. He sighed, wrapping his fingers around Matty's wrist lightly.

"Matty, we've got to go. The driver's coming, and it's not a good idea to be up here while the bus is moving." George stated, scooting back towards the emergency exit flap from which he'd used to get up there in the first place. After getting himself down safely, he pulled Matty down by the waist after him.

"You didn't even connect with the clouds." The curly haired lad mumbled, plopping himself onto the couch dejectedly.

"Matty, you know I've never been able to connect with things quite as spiritually as you can." George sighed, going to sit by his friend - only to have the smaller boy wince away from him.

"You didn't even see it. You missed the most beautiful thing." Matty whispered, eyes glazing over as he drifted off in thought. George wrapped an arm around his shoulder.

"Then how about you enlighten me on just what exactly I missed?" He asked, running his fingers through Matty's curls.

"You didn't see the faces in the clouds. Every cloud has a face: a story, and you didn't pay attention to their faces. They're offended." Matty spoke. "They gave me the best advice, and you couldn't even listen. Clouds cannot speak, but they do speak through nature: the chirping of the bird, a pitter-patter of rain, the rustling of leaves when the wind kicks up. It's so beautiful George. It's so peaceful. It's so surreal."