Behind the Glass Wall

Day 4

Mathew waited for Miss Rachel Smith to arrive. It was 9 am and way past the time she usually arrived. Well she did come early yesterday his sub conscience sassed. Let me take over the voice spoke again, pestering him. No he mentally replied, you had control yesterday and the result was not desirable. Today for the betterment of us both I will hold the controls. He waited for her to arrive. 10 am. 10:30. 11am. Maybe she was ill. Or maybe she'd taken heed of his words and left. And just as those thoughts flickered through her mind the door slammed open and in ran a ruffled Rachel.

"Sorry...huh....just...alarm...ran..." Rachel panted. Mathew chuckled at the young woman. She was most amusing.

"It is quiet alright," he smiled at her, "I see you've had a busy morning." She nodded, catching her breath and clicked her pen.

"Are you ready for more work?" she returned Mathew's smile.

"Come, let us continue our tale," Mathew took a deep breath, "not even 48 hours after Rose's disappearance did Thomas bring another woman home. Katherine he'd said her name was and he'd warned his son to respect her and not act like his b..... of a mother. Mathew simply frowned wondering where Rose was and that's all it took for Thomas to lose his patience. He back handed the 6 year old and yanked at his hair, bruise marks blossoming against his pale skin. Katherine cackled in the background, enjoying the show of dominance and murmuring a few words on how the little rat deserved it all. Mathew stayed silent.

"He was never the one to hold a conversation with. Only speaking when spoken to and keeping his own thoughts as company. His silence enraged his father and he began breaking him, piece by piece. Telling him he was the cause of all misfortune; that his mere existence brought pain to the world. Katherine was beginning to sound more and more like a cat being stepped on, her voice as irritating as her face. All the while Mathew stayed silent. Neither speaking nor forgetting. The words and beats all adding to his own flame of anger. A flame that shone too brightly for a child of that age that was going to spiral out of control.

"For the next 5 years, Mathew lived as such. He would be grateful for the 6 hour escape at school and would then return home to be slave driven by his new 'mother' Katherine. At the tender age of 11, he was able to cook meals, clean bathrooms and even open bottles of wine for his alcoholic custodians. After all the work of the home was completed, he would serve as a bartender and butler, refilling the pair's beverages of hell. He would then prepare for part 3.  Drunken beats. Where Thomas would batter him until he passed out and Katherine would encourage him to do so. Part 4 was cleaning up their putrid mess before they awoke and only then would he get his 4 hours of precious sleep. 

"Gradually Mathew adjusted to the routine, his body even adapting to withstand the pain. He began to accept his miserable life style and slowly ignore and block out the blacks and whites of reality, secluding himself to the corners of his mind. He was... surviving. Alive yet not living. Human yet not feeling. It was a routine he slowly fell into. The emptiness of his mind far more inviting than the grotesqueness of reality. Some could say he no longer cared about the outside world. However, that all changed.

"On the 25th of August 2005 he was summoned by Thomas and Katherine. He was drying dishes at the time and walked to them with a knife in hand.

"Boy!" Thomas' gruff voice sent chills down his spine, "you're mother and I have news for you. Your mother is pregnant and expecting a child-" Blood rushed to Mathew's head. The rest of Thomas' words were blocked out, the only sound he was able to process was the thumping of his heart. Another child. No. it couldn't be. Another one to inflict years of pain upon. They didn't deserve another child. Nor did the innocent deserve such punishment.

"No." Thomas was taken aback by his son's words.

"What did you say boy?"

"NO! NO! Not another one. You can't. You don't deserve another!" his pupils were dilated by now, "I won't stand for this! You and the pig will not have that child, will not live this life!" he was smiling now. A wide grin that made Thomas edge away slowly. Mathew followed.

Knife in hand he stalked towards his father, cornering him against the wall. Katherine watched, her body shaking with fear. She was about to witness what gave one terrible nightmares, what made one a witness suitable for courts. She was about to witness murder. She'd already rang 911 by then and was crying down the phone, begging the woman to send help. To stop the freak from ending the life of her beloved. But it was too late. She looked up to see him lying in a pool of his own blood. His blue eyes empty. Lifeless. Gone.

"Katherine wailed hysterically, and began panting when she saw the 11 year old child making his way over to her. All the time the receiver was on. The woman on the opposite side listening to the sounds of death, muffled slightly from the bad reception.

"Katheriinnee," Mathew sang, "now it's your turn!" He clapped his hand against the bloodied knife.

"Let's get rid of this first, shall we? We don't want it to feel your pain." And with that he plunged the knife into her lower abdomen, twisting it into an unnatural position. She screamed. Blood trickled out of her mouth, mixing with her everlasting rivers of tears. She whimpered, her body betraying her; shutting down without her consent.

"Mathew raised his knife for his final blow, pleased that the woman had stopped whimpering like a child. The sound irritated him to the core. With an affectionate pat, the knife wrote it's red name against her greying throat. And then the house was silent. CLANG! The knife fell to the floor. THUD! Mathew's body followed. And it was only then that the door burst open, and in walked the police. Only to find a living room full of blood and it's family laying on the floor." Mathew glanced up at Rachel. She looked as though she was having an internal war. She knew this man was a psycho. Heck, a murderer even yet she still enjoyed his presence. She still wanted to hear his words, understand his violent side. She still wanted to... be his friend.

"How long?" she finally whispered. Mathew raised an eyebrow. She cleared her throat.

"The trial, the penalties, Broadmoor Hospital. How long has it been?" Mathew chuckled. Nothing got past this woman.

"The trial was held as soon as Mathew got taken into custody," he explained, "it took 3 weeks, to even coax a word out of the child. In the end he simply stated that his actions were justice and if he had the chance to repeat them he would do so. And with that he continued with his silence, speaking to no one but himself occasionally. The jury in the end decided his unstable mind was the cause of his crimes and that it was a potential danger to society and himself. And that was when they decided Broadmoor was the only place fit for him.

Mathew remembers the day he was brought to his cell vividly. Everything was untouchable and unchangeable, far from his reach. The white walls, floors and light kept him awake, burning his eyes from their intensity. He thought of a thousand scenarios of how his life could have ended. Of how his situation could be different. However none were real. None felt right. Here he was safe. Safe from society and himself. Here he could be Mathew." The intensity of Mathew's gaze made Rachel's stomach turn. This broken soul was beyond repair, frighteningly out of reach. Yet so very close.

"Mathew I-" He cut her off.

"Mathew never told his story to anyone. No one knew what really occurred that night. Not completely. No one but Rachel Smith..." He smiled at her. A sincere and genuine smile. And it was then that Rachel realised that not only had she got herself some job experience, but also a friend.

........