Boots

Nineteen

"Mattie! Dad said you wouldn't be back until tomorrow!" Matthew halted as he entered the house.
Alfred was there on the couch, looking up at him with those innocent eyes of his.
"Al..."
"You're home early. Did something happen?" Francis came out of the kitchen. He had a bowl in his hand. Dinner must be happening late tonight.
"Nothing happened. I just finished up earlier than I thought I would."
"Finished up what?"
"I'm going to bed."
"Matthew, wait!" Alfred got up but Matthew was already halfway up the stairs.
"Matthew!" Alfred ran after him, reaching him just as he grabbed the doorknob to their bedroom.
"What?" Matthew asked. "Can't you see that I've had a long day?"
"Don't wake Natalia up."
"Natalia?"
"My girlfriend. She's sleeping and she keeps a knife under her pillow."
"You...have a girlfriend? Alfredy?" (I was gonna write already but I mis-typed and couldn't resist the pun).
"Dude, I'm twenty five. Why don't you?"
"Uh because I have my priorities straight."
"I do to. My job is stable and my house is big. What's you issue?"
Matthew set his jaw, his hand dropping from the doorknob. "I'm gonna go sleep in our parents' room."
"Mattie...she has siblings...if you need me to hook you up."
"No thank you, Al." Matthew walked down the hallway to the place where his parents slept. He knew he would get kicked out eventually but it was better than getting knifed by his brother's girlfriend.
"Matt...you've never dated anybody. I'm just worried that you're..."
"What? That I'm what? Some people are just complete alone. We don't need to use other people to fill some sort of void in our lives." Matthew swallowed. "Anyway, it's been a rough day. I'm going to bed."
"You've changed, bro." Alfred's voice was unnaturally serious. Matthew ignored it, disappearing into the master bedroom to end the discussion.
He collapsed onto the bed, entrapping himself in the blankets. He felt nauseous and he wasn't sure if it was due to what Gilbert said or if he was coming down with something. Deep down he hoped it was something fatal. He was trapped in a dead end with no way out and no way back. The walls were closing in on him faster and faster.
He was suffocating.
"Matthew," Arthur came into the room, sitting down on the bed. "Dinner is ready. What are you doing in here?"
Matthew groaned in pain. He didn't want to move.
Arthur put his hand on his son's forehead, scowling softly. "You're burning up. I'll get you some water."
"Mnh..." Matthew nodded as much as he could. Maybe this was the long walk home in the snow without a jacket. Maybe it was just all the stress he had been through piling up and striking back.
His body hated him.
"Don't worry about having to move. Your papa and I will just sleep on the pull out couch until you're feeling better. Do you need anything else?"
A decent job.
Independence.
Death.
"No." Matthew croaked. "I'm okay."
He wasn't.