Chapter Text
Large violet fluttered open. the light was pouring over his face, he groaned why did Papa leave the curtain open? he rubbed his face and sat up to look over at his Papa… but the bed was empty. the small face whipped around looking at the room… it was empty, plain… tiny child eyebrows furrowed in confusion. then his face dropped. oh right… he lived here now…
He hopped out of bed and grabbed his white bear kumajiro hugging it close. he sighed and looked around. Papa had given him away… he had said he was a.. a… what was the word? either way… he said he cost too much to keep. It was his fault Papa was gone.
he thumped onto his butt on the floor and looked at his bear “Je dois vraiment pas être bon si Papa voulait se débarrasser de moi…” -I really must not be any good if Papa wanted to get rid of me- he said sadly.
he recognized his name being called, but the rest of the words following were unfamiliar, Matthieu walked to the bathroom next door and climbed on the tiny foot stool in front of the sink. he washed his hands and looked at his reflection. Tears sprung to his eyes, what was so wrong? was it his eyes? his hair? was his french not good enough? he finished and hopped down dragging tiny feet down the hall
breakfast was on the table… oh god what is that? is that food? the two other people at the table look at him expectantly and babbled in what papa called.. oh… what was it.. he was forgetting.. he shook his head and it came to him “Je ne parle pas anglais” -I don’t know English-. this made the loud boy his size look confused, but it made the eyebrow man mad. he was picked up and carried from the table and into a library. a book was placed in front of him full of pictures and strange words. eyebrow man looked at him and said i very poorly articulated french “vous apprendre l’anglais” -you will learn English- it was stern. a demand. he then turned and left
Matthieu missed Papa… in the book there was a picture of a little girl. a scowl set on his face. Papa had traded him for another child. a little girl with long brown hair and tanned skin. what made her so much more special? was it because he was a boy? was his hair not long enough? he couldn’t hate anyone… but thinking of his Papa treating that little girl with the same love he had treated him with… new tears flowed. was he happier with her?
It had been three weeks. Matthieu could speak broken English but not really enough for a conversation between ‘good morning, I’m good. I’m hungry’… he was half starved because of the food. he was lonely, he had no one to talk to, his new ‘brother’ was much more rowdy and loud then he was use to… Did Papa know he was sending him to such a horrid place? how was he going to survive this? no food, no conversation, none of the love he had been so use to from Papa...
he wished he could be better for Papa… maybe if he was better Papa wouldn’t have given him away. Matthieu hated it here. he hated the eyebrow man named Arthur, He hated the loud boy Alfred… but most of all he hated himself for losing Papa… It was his fault…