Map of Your Head

Chapter 7: 11 years

Matt's POV

"So do you want to tell me about it?" Dom asks as he holds me close. "Your dream?" I let go of him.

Maybe later. It had to do with what happened to me. Why I am the way I am. It's personal.

I can feel myself begin to shake at the thought of it. I want to be able to let Dominic know what happened to me, but I haven't been able to tell anyone. Just writing those first couple of words cause me to break down.

It's a difficult topic. I haven't been able to talk about it. Ever.

"That's fine," Dom says, placing a hand on my shoulder and giving me a reassuring smile. "But you should know that I'm here for you." I smile back before opening to a blank page in my notebook, writing for what feels like an eternity. Dominic doesn't read what I'm writing yet. Instead he looks out the window and runs one of his hands up and down my back. I close my eyes and simply savour the moment for a few seconds before continuing to write. My hands are shaking by the time I'm down and tears are threatening to spill from my eyes. I hand Dom my notebook and watch him as he reads.

I was 9 and I was basically as normal as a 9-year-old could get. I went to school, I played outside with friends, and I talked. A lot. One day I was just playing in my room when I heard my parents screaming at each other. They fought a lot, but it was never this bad. I should have just stayed in my room, but I was a curious child so I wanted to investigate. Besides, my parents never fought in front of me so I figured that if I walked in, they would stop. I got to the bottom of the stairs and I froze. My mum was pointing a gun at my dad's chest. She was crying and he was screaming at her. Then she pulled the trigger. I watched as my dad fell to the floor. He saw me and muttered my name as he bled to death. It was the last thing he said. My mother didn't even know I was there. She pointed the gun at her head and killed herself without hesitation. The police and an ambulance showed up shortly after and I hadn't even moved. I haven't spoken since. Then it was foster home after foster home, but no one know how to deal with my anxiety attacks and all the moving around only made them worse. I've been living in mental hospitals for the past 8 years. Naturally it hasn't been easy on me, but I'm surviving and that's what matters.

"I'm sorry," Dom whispers as he hands my notebook back to me. "I had no idea."

Don't apologise. What use is it?

"I guess you're right," he sighs, placing one his hands on the back of his neck. I look at him for a moment before taking his other hand in my left.

What happened to you?

"Nothing really," Dom says, tracing circles on my hand with his thumb. "I'm just sort of like this and I don't know why." I simply nod in response before resting my head on his shoulder. He lets go of my hand to wrap both of his arms around my waist. "I won't let anyone hurt you ever again. I promise."

Why promise something like that?

"Because you're an amazing person and anyone  who can't see that is a fool," he whispers, turning to face me a small bit. I can feel his breath along my hairline, but for once having someone this close to me isn't stressing me out. I shift so I can look at Dom and he rests his forehead against mine. He smiles warmly and I feel something stir in my stomach.

Something that tells I'm in love with my only friend.