Goodreads
del.icio.us
CHAPTdEalR 6
"Matthew? Matthew what's wrong?" His mother kept knocking on the door. "Matthew?"
He ignored her, leaving that boundary between them. He refused her words, her offers of aid. He cut himself off, alone from even those few that cared for him. He covered his ears, rendering himself deaf to her healing words. With time she left, taking the love he needed with her.
Matthew rested on his bed like a corpse at a wake. The enormity of the situation held him down. The realization of the consequences of his actions were so enormous that his mind was paralyzed trying to comprehend it. He hid there, in his dark hole, from the rot that was spreading through society. A rot he had had revealed.
Orlando looked down into Matthew's face. "How can you sleep?"
"I'm not. Someone won't shut up." Matthew stared at the ceiling, guilt gnawing at him. He felt every bite torn from his soul. He just wanted to be alone. That is all he ever wanted.
"How can I? Look at what you've done."
Moonlight pierced the half open shades of his bedroom, illuminating Orlando's sad face in a pale light. Matthew felt his stare as he continued to look inward. Did it all really have to come to this? Matthew hadn't really wanted to cause this much trouble for Jesus. He just wanted his privacy. Was that too much to ask? For all the reasons Matthew could create to justify his actions he couldn't help but feel remorse over soiling Jesus' name worldwide. This was really not shaping up to be a great Christmas.
"Don't you have anything to say for yourself?" Orlando cocked his head.
Matthew sucked in a deep breath and willed himself up knocking Orlando to the side, his little body rolling into the wall. "I'm getting out of here." Matthew opened his closet door, flipped on the light, and started to change.
"Go wherever you want. You can't run from it." Orlando stood on the edge of the bed giving Matthew a withering glance.
Matthew stopped what he was doing and looked back at the dog. He wanted to speak but held it in as he always did, letting it burn and die inside him. He went back to unbuttoning his shirt.
"Selfish," Orlando growled. Matthew threw his shirt at the Chihuahua like a baseball, belting the pup in the chest with such force he yelped as he fell off the bed. Orlando struggled to all fours. "Real mature."
"Hey, I didn't start this." Matthew turned and pointed at his blemished face, the light of the closet shining around him cloaking him in shadow.
"Remember the ghost?"
Matthew knelt down. Orlando stood up and rested his front paws on Matthew's knee to come face to face. "You guys play with our lives as if they are worth nothing in the cosmic scheme of things. Whatever made Jesus' life more important than anyone else's? Huh?" Matthew moved closer. "What right does he have to tell me to do anything? He was never there..." Matthew paused, trying to control himself. He closed his eyes tightly, took a breath, and then reopened them. "He was never there when I needed him." He stood back up, Orlando slipping off his knee.
The dog remained at his heels. "So you're blaming Jesus for being bullied? For being a loser? Jesus can't help everyone, especially someone as pathetic as you."
Matthew became coldly agitated, his tick giving him a psychotic look. His reason slipped as his rational side evaporated with Orlando's acidic words. "Jesus wants us to give all we can to him, but he gives us nothing. Fuck that and fuck him!"
Orlando was shocked at what Matthew said, his little jaw yawning open. "That's blasphemy," he gasped.
"Like what I've done isn't worse. Just...shut up." Remorse had cut up Matthew's heart, ripping his soul to shreds. The pieces drifted away. "I just don't care anymore."
Orlando was struck dumb, his mouth opening in silent rebellion as Matthew finished changing into fresh clothes. He crossed his front paws across his chest. "I hate you."
Matthew was hurt by that. Orlando had been his only friend for years. He fed him. He bathed him. He talked to him when he could talk to no one else. And now his only confidant, his sole comrade, said he turned against him. Matthew couldn't stand it, couldn't take how no one gave a damn. His fractured face hardened in the coolness he accepted. "Yeah, well you don't have a thumb so I really don't feel too threatened." Matthew opened the door and left.
