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A part of Skeet wished he died at birth. Choked by the umbilical cord while the doctors tried to get him out of the womb or dropped by the hospital nurse because she was clumsy. He has dreamt of he times died much earlier on.
Would his negligent mother have cried that her firstborn died or would she be the same as she was now and sigh with relief? Would his physically abusive father curse under his breath in mourning or would he blame his mother for the death?
Everything in his life never goes his way. Nothing good ever comes his way. Should've died earlier on.
He sighed, doodling on his notebook as the teacher continued to teach. Her voice was basically a white noise for him, his mind focusing on what he drew. The pen swerved across the paper smoothly, getting the imagery he had in mind into reality.
As he finished, he perked up, looking around the classroom. There's only 15 minutes left before the class would finaly conclude. Somehow, the discussion has moved from some literature to another. He shrugged, looking back down his doodle.
Oh.
It was Matt's avatar.
Huh.
“And then Sophia turned in her paper with the answer. She promised me that she wrote the same thing as me but then we only got 1 point. So either she lied or I spelled the wrong thing.”
Skeet sighed, his lunch was bland. Matt's story was bland. Has life always been this bland? Nothing sparked any joy or interest anymore. Only roblox, perhaps, but all he does is play the same 3 games with Matt. He had been ignoring Shiner's messages and avoiding Galaxies' game.
He yawned, covering his mouth as he did. God, his body felt heavy. There's no harm taking a small nap, right? Lowering his head closer onto the table, he crossed his arms under as a makeshift pillow and snoozed off the whole lunch.
No one would miss you if you go missing, you know.
Your mom probably found another family already.
Your dad is sick and tired of you everyday.
He jolted up awake, finding himself in the school bus. His heart began to race. How did he get here? Why can't he remember hoe the day went by?! He holds his chest, trying to calm down his heart. Frantically looking around, he managed to gather some understanding.
Outside the window was their school, they haven't left yet. The bus only had like a couple students. How'd he even get into the bus? Wasn't he asleep at lunch? God, Matt's story was such a bore.
Matt!
He stood up from where he sat, finding not a single sight of Matt in any of the seats. His heart began to beat twice as fast as last time.
“Thanks! I'm sorry for the bother again!!”
Skeet swiftly pivoted to look out the window upon hearing the familiar voice. It was Matt, waving goodbye to someone outside the bus. He kept his eye on him, watching him run up the service and through the rows of seat.
“Hi! You left me. That's okay though, you said your head hurted!”
Matt waved, sitting on the empty seat beside him. Skeet stared at him with a dumbfounded look on his face. What? He doesn't remember saying anything like that. Oh god, he felt lightheaded. Tired and heavy like last time. He closed his eyes, leaning back.
“Are you okay now?” The younger boy tilted his head, a frown formed across his face. His voice felt slower, like an echo.
“Skeet?”
Matt raised his hand to shake his friend by the shoulder. But his hand was suddenly held by the wrist.
“I'm alright, Matt. Please don't talk so loud.” Skeet spoke, eyes finally opened. But it was half-lid like before.
“Oh okay... Sorry, Skeet..” He replied, lowly as he could. “Do you still wanna play Roblox later?” He pulled his hand away from his friend who fixed his seating properly. Matt copied and placed his bag on his lap.
“Perhaps. I fear Father doesn't like how often I stay over your place.”
He spoke funny.
“That's okay...” Matt lowered his head, fidgeting with the zipper on his bag's front pouch.
Skeet began to rub the bridge of his nose, cursing how loud it was. Weird, no one of the bus was even talking that loudly. Matter of fact, the bus was surprisingly calm. Everyone must've been by some of today's mock exam.
Matt shrugged it off and instead stayed quiet.
This will pass, hopefully.
“Fuck.” Skeet muttered. How was it October 5 already? He's so stressed out. He's 100% sure that yesterday was only October 1. What was going on? The gaps in his memory were getting concerningly longer and longer.
He grabbed his head by the hair, shaking himself harshly. Racking his brain to remember. Why can't he remember what's been happening the past few days, weeks, and month!? His chest has been tight, muscle tensed, and broken down too much to count.
His phone opened, showing his lockscreen as a bunch of orange marigold and a new notification from Matt.
> hello, is everythingloud?”
What...?
He quickly swiped his phone open, ignoring how his heart drummed on the sides of his ear. How he basically is holding his breathe as he typed.
> what are you talking about?
He can't bother to spell with his usual 'z'. Matt must know what's up. Yeah, he has been awfully closer than usual. Like a guardian angel, he suppose. He also noticed its only during school dismissal when it happens. Maybe.
He looked down at his phone, seeing 3 new messages from Matt.
> ohhi skeet!
> do youwann play roblox?
> youcan stay over againif you want!
Putting his hand below his chin, he thought about it. Can he ask Matt? Would he take it seriously?
> sure.
God.
Entering the Rivera family's house will always be like entering a museum. There's so many pictures, vases, and plants around the house. He shuddered, leaving his shoes by the door. Feeling someone approach behind him, he turned around and was faced with Matt's joyous face.
“Hi, Skeet!”
“Hey.”
He got up from the ground, following Matt to the kitchen. The younger kid began to prepare dinner while he sat on the table.
‘Help him.’
What the fuck was that. His breathing came to a halt, eyes wide. He swore he heard someone just down. It was slightly distorted and low.
“Do you want fried chicken or corn soup?” Matt asked, turning aroun as he held plates levelled to his chest. Noticing the fearful look in Skeet's face, he frowned and placed the dishes down.
“Sorry, was I too loud?”
He blinked a couple of times, coming back to his senses.
“Why do you keep asking me that?” Skeet tensed up, slowly returning to a very controlled way of breathing.
“Well, sometimes... Z would tell me that it's too loud and that you're scared of loud noises...”
Matt sounded like a kid revealing a secret. Well, technically it was but Skeet isn't scared of loud noises. Does being scared of bottles breaking when his dad is drunk count? He doesn't think it does.
“What are you talking about? Who the fuck is Z?” He felt offended now. This was something important and Matt had the guts to hide this from him. Didn't he know thinks were already stressful for him?
‘I can talk to him for you.’
What the fuck.
“Did you hear that?’” He sat up, looking around. The living room TV wasn't playing anything. Matt's phone was off on the table. There were no speakers around.
“Hear what? Are you okay?” Matt slowly approached him, extending a hand.
Skeet hugged himself. He didn't feel safe. Well, no, he felt so heavy. He reached out and clung onto Matt. His breathing quickened as his vision felt darker.
“Matt, I'm scared.” He whispered, closing his eyes. The younger boy hugged him back, rubbing his back.
“I'm here for you, Skeet. It's okay... Remember what I said last time.”
He couldn't. He wish he could, but he can't remember what Matt was talking about.
They stayed like that, standing whilst hugging each other. His face on the side of Matt's head while Matt's face was pressed lightly against his chest.
His eyes opened but he couldn't feel what was going on. His perspective felt the same as when he tried out Minecraft when he met Reddy.
“I'm alright, Matt.” That was his voice. But he didn't speak.
“Z?” Matt asked, almost like he knew the difference between who was talking and Skeet earlier. This is the Z guy he mentioned but that's just him. Skeet felt more confused. Was he outside his body right now?
“He's here. In the back of my mind. Skeet, I mean.” His body spoke again, disconnecting from the hug.
“I still don't understand what's going on.” Matt frowned, tugging at the sleeve of his pajamas.
“I don't either, I just know I'm here whenever Skeet gets triggered or whatever.” Z shrugged, sitting back down. Skeet felt — can he even feel? He felt like he was afloat. He decided to try and speak.
‘Hey!’
“Skeet said hey.” Z spoke, smiling at Matt. The younger boy smiled and waved. “Hi, Skeet!”
What the fuck!? Matt can hear him? Wait, doesn't he think this is weird? Another person was in Skeet's body and was controlling him (Skeet's hypothesis), and was reiterating what he said.
Matt hesitantly go back to the dishes. “Do you guys want chicken or soup?”
“Either one, Matt. And I do wanna remind you. Sometimes, what you say to me doesn't transfer onto Skeet.”
Matt grabbed a bowl for them both and enthusiastically nodded. “Okay, okay! I'll remember that!” He began to set up the table while Z and Skeet watched. Skeet couldn't help but finally feel at ease. The weight of his body didn't fall on him. Almost like he's in a safe cocoon. He yawned, retreating into the back of his body's mind.
Maybe this Z guy can handle whatever.
There's gotta be some benefits to this... right?
It was dark. He was laying beside Matt, again.
Zach turned to his side and stared at Matt's face. The moonlight illuminated the room.
God, Matt's embrace was just as safe as the headspace.
He smiled and pulled the boy closer to him, cuddling him.
“Thanks for accepting us, Matt.” He whispered.
One day, they'll all introduce themselves to Skeet. One day, he'll understand they're there for him.
But for now, they'll keep him safe like how Matt makes them feel safe.
‘Everything will all make sense soon.’