Whispers From the Dark

Chapter I

He stood alone, engulfed by the cool midnight breeze. His hands trembled as his mind drifted back to reality. The events of the past hour flooded his mind, yet he was unaware of why everything had happened. What brought him to this state of mind that he had just snapped? His hands the reason for his mother lying in a pool of blood.

 

Hours had passed as he stood in a field. A field far from every place he ever held dear to him. During these hours, he couldn't help but think, "Why haven't the police taken me away?" A number of questions entered Matt's mind, all entering, yet none leaving with answers. At this moment in time, nothing made sense to him.

 

It took another hour or so for Matt to hear the wail of a police siren in the distance. And when he heard it, the gut feeling in his stomach had vanished. He was just grateful that he could come clean, atone for his sin this very night that will change his life forever.

 

--

 

Only four years had passed since the incident, and still, Matt was completely alone. The walls of his room in Dencon House, House of the Unstable, were painted this blue. No, not a beautiful blue blue, but this eery blue. A blue that see when someone attempts to dye their hair a bright blue and utterly fail. But nonetheless, here he was, perched on the edge of his bed, still replaying the day his mother had been murdered. His hands constantly rubbing against one another, as if to wash of the blood that covered them that very night.

 

There was a slight creak of the door when Dr. Fidstone had opened it to give Matt his medication.

 

“It’s fine Matthew, they will make you better,” a phrase commonly said to Matt by any doctor telling him to take his medication since Matt found they taste utterly disgusting. It tasted bitter, and the texture was, as well, unappetizing. Nonetheless, Matt reluctantly took them, in hopes that they will ‘make him better’.

 

“Thank you,” Matt replied after swallowing a lukewarm sip of water and meds. His voice was weak, also very croaky from crying throughout the night again. Nothing else was said as the doctor left the room, once again leaving Matt utterly alone.

 

--

 

There is a lot to Matt that some of the doctors didn’t get, patients too. Why would someone who looks perfectly ‘normal’ and ‘healthy’ be locked up in a mental institution? Why put the poor boy in a room alone, away from others? What did he do to end up in a place like this? And when people would ask, Matt would get this distant look in his eyes and always end with saying, “I wanted to feel safe.”

 

Before going on about what life is like for Matt at Dencon house, and how he ended up here and not a federal penitentiary, you may want to know how the young man looks. He is a small built man, scrawny as others his age would say, weighing only 130 lbs at a height of 5’7”. His dull hazel eyes, once a beautiful bright blue, are now covered with shaggy brunette hair. His hair with the occasional curl from his largest nervous habit; twirling his fingers through his hair. He is an odd boy, but a boy not caught up in his physical appearance any longer. Boy may not actually be the proper terminology any more since he had turned 19 only four days ago, March 3rd.

 

--

 

The night of the incident, all was going well in the Cartaro household. Mary and Matt were upstairs playing Monopoly, and their parents were downstairs , watching yet another romantic-comedy, one more comedic than romance. Dinner was served at 7pm, a little later than usual, but served nonetheless. Like always, it was a well prepared meal by Mr. Cartaro. It was warm, and made everyone sit in awe after the first bite.

 

It wasn’t until a little after midnight when things took a twist for the unexpected. Matt and his mother were sitting in the kitchen, discussing Matt’s amazingly high grades when Matt snapped. His fingers wrapping around the knife he had used just recently to cut a cucumber, and quickly using it to stab his mother. Over and over and over again until Matt snapped back to who he usually is. His eyes swelling up with tears as he backed away from his mothers limp body, his legs taking off in a run as he had still tried to wrap his head around the event that had just occurred.

 

--

 

At court later that year, the Crown Attorney had charged Matt of first-degree murder (a sentence of life in prison), yet the Defence Counsel managed to get Matt out of prison and into a mental institution, Dencon to be exact. That is how Matt ended up at Dencon, there is not actually much to it, just a really great lawyer.

 

--

 

Back in his room, Matt rocked back and forth, realizing he hated how he had to live here day after day. His family, well what was left of it, visiting him once a month. He hated how he was never allowed to visit his mothers grave because the institute did not believe it to be an extremely genius idea. Yet Matt put up with it. No, not because he felt it was the best thing for him, but because his father would rather him get help than be stuck in prison.  But think about it, a small boy stuck in prison would not end up well.

Now the story can actually begin now that you know about Matt Cartaro. His grand adventure about to unfold, or in law terms, his grand escape. He had come to the conclusion that he could no longer handle this life. He had finally agreed to listen to the voices in his head. Finally he listened to the phrase, “just get away”.