Matt rocked in his chair, his fingers subconsciously running over his face. The scars had healed, his cheek stitched close. There was almost nothing left of that day.
Except the memories.
Those that had him waking up in the dead of the night, screaming. Those that made him choke on his favorite food. Those that made him wince whenever he remembered them. Those that almost brought the feeling back. The fear, the.....pain...
Steve, the boy who traumatized him...and then ended his own life. Something was not right.
He didn't feel angry on Steve at all. He felt pity, because when he was attacked, he was sure that wasn't Steve at all. That was no human at all.
Matt looked around his room, he was feeling a bit stuffy. He glided his wheeled chair over to the window and slid it open.
Much better.
The ground was far down as usual, he was too high up. One floor up, that is. He was afraid of heights, and knew that very well.
Kana probably could hop down from here on one leg...
He remembered the day, the year she just joined the school, and during her very fist month, Kana was being bullied by girls three years older than her.
They were jealous...
Matt thought, that was obvious.
They had surrounded her, when no one was watching and accused her of being a fake. Someone who didn't need to exist.
"Why don't you do us all a favor and die already!!"
What caused their behavior was probably jealousy, and the fact that a teacher compared them to Kana.
They had pushed Kana to a nearby window and flung it open for her to jump out. While they were one floor above the ground. They were not really trying to kill her, they just wanted a reaction. A reaction so that they could console theirselves.
Kana merely smiled.
Then jumped.
She hit the floor with all her four limbs together, and got back up as if nothing happened.
"Chickens!!!"
She yelled as she took off running back in the school to tell.
The story spread fast and Kana got famous pretty quickly.
That was probably when he fell for her.
He gave his bed a glance, then shivered. He didn't want to sleep. Didn't want to experience those nightmares again. Reluctantly, he stepped into his washroom, taking care not to look into the mirror cabinet. He remembered the day he was discharged from the hospital. Every mirror he looked into , reflected Steve, suffocating him. He was readmitted again, for some mental therapy. Since then, Matt avoided mirrors almost completely.
He did his stuff in the washroom and got out, dried his feet, and walked over to the window. Adjusting his chair close to the window, he dosed off, feeling the breeze ruffle his hair. Then something hit him. His eyes popped open, alarmed. Fear made its way back into his body, hardening, so that he couldn't move as well. Slowly, he rubbed his forehead where he was hit and stepped back from the window.
The light in his room went out with a sizzle as his scream reached his parents' room.
