"Aiden? Aiden!"
The shouts came from the nearby distance. It was sort of scattered by the cold wind, and the power of concern in the voice was lost, but Aiden heard the shouts. He didn't want to turn, but he knew he must.
"Aiden!" the voice was nearing now. It felt close by and soft. Aiden wasn't surprised when a warm hand touched his shoulder, but he jumped anyway. And then he cried.
"All right, mate," Matt mumbled and put his arms around Aiden, patting his back, in some sort of manly gesture. Then he felt stupid and just hugged him. Aiden clung onto Matt's shirt and sobbed into it. Somehow, Matt hauled Aiden off the train track and fell down onto a grassy bank.
Aiden didn't let go of Matt and continued to bawl. His breath was hot and heavy in Matt's ear, and his body was sticky. His skin felt overheated and shaky, but it was calming down by the second. Aiden's head bobbed back and forth on Matt's shoulder as he sobbed and his arms were hanging awkwardly by his side. Matt's arms were wrapped around Aiden's waist, holding Aiden pressed to his chest. They could feel each other's heart booming. As Aiden's baffling silenced, they
could hear each other's hearts too. It was awkward and sticky, but they stayed locked together. Listening to the whispering night, the boys closed their eyes, just for a second, before the train rushed past - along with the day. The 52nd day of the year was over now. It
was midnight. It was too late.
Roaring as it went, the train soared past. Blowing wind rushed into the boys' faces, and the deafening sound of the engine rocketed through their ears. It would have been a beautiful train to be killed by.
Matt let go of Aiden. He shrugged him off, and sat cross legged on the grass. "I don't know you," he said.
"No," agreed Aiden solemnly, trapped in a ball of arms and legs.
"You wanted to kill yourself," Matt stared straight into Aiden's eyes. It was chilling and blunt. It was dark, but Matt could see clearly the sadness in them. The shame, the regret, the hurt. Aiden broke the trance, and shook his head, shrugging. He didn't give an answer, but Matt didn't need one.
"See you at school, I'm going home," Matt said, standing up and brushing himself down. Aiden didn't reply, but continued to sit on the grass, which, come to realise it, was wet. Walking off into the
distance, Matt knew he was being watched. Aiden continued to stare for a while, until he realised he could no longer even see a blob in the distance, instead, he laid back and fell into a dreamless asleep.
After all, he was exhausted. So exhausted, in fact, there was no need for any imaginary sheep (or ducks). As soon as his head hit the ground, he was out off it. Maybe it was better that way, because he was in a strange place at that moment in time. If he'd have had time to think about
anything, God knows what he would've done.
YOU ARE READING
52. (BoyxBoy)
Teen FictionAiden's life is a lonely mess of suffering and torment. He's bullied daily, and abused by his mother. He's fed up with it, and on the 52nd day of the year, he's going to give up. It's all planned. So why did that have to be the day The New Boy turne...
