When I was younger, each and every icebreaker I used in class was the same.
“Hi, my name is Melanie and I have a little brother”
It’s boring, for the average person this shouldn’t even count as a fact. For me, it was everything. I was 14 years older than my brother, my parents tried for years to have a child, in-vitro, hormonal, family planning, adoption, and for whatever reason, no matter how desperate my parents - or my mother - got, it seemed like we would always be a family of three.But nothing worked, and I slipped easily into my ninth year of high school before the news was broken to me. Our family of three would soon be four.
My parents were used to this, they already had me and while it took some time to get back into the ropes of young childhood, we were equal in their eyes. But Matthew was new, and we had such a large age gap that I worried, rightfully so, that I would never be treated like a sister. Many people thought he was my own kid even. So I constantly tried to make this sibling connection instead of being treated as a weird aunt during family time and holidays in the future.
Peek-a-boo. As a baby, he was entertained by me suddenly appearing or disappearing. As a toddler, it almost became a game like hide and seek. We could spend hours a day, either him looking for me, or me hiding behind something to scare a three-year-old. He was never scared though…not for long at least. His eyes would get wide and he would gasp from the surprise, but soon the cutest eruption of giggles would escape from this little cherub.
When he got a little older, the game changed again and suddenly it was his turn to “boo” me.
By this time, I was in my young twenties, in the middle of college. My brother was still my world, but even I could get annoyed the twelfth time in the hour he tried - and failed - to scare me again. So I would ignore him. If he hid underneath my bed, I’d bring my legs up so he couldn’t grab me to try and scare me. I opened doors either all the way so he couldn’t stand behind them, or closed them completely as an out of sight out of mind tactic.
Our little game evolved to have rules. Matty was always the spooker, and no matter what he did, I couldn’t acknowledge or notice his presence, and if I did, I pretended like I didn’t (what can I say, a part of being the elder sibling is winning even if I have to cheat.)
Matty took it as a challenge, he’d find a way to hide that I had to notice him, or try and draw my attention. He’d win if he managed to surprise me, or get me to acknowledge his presence so he could say
“Boo”. I was a bit too old now to hide and cram myself into these hiding spots, but Matty was still 12, and though he didn’t do it nearly as much as he used to, it was still good for a laugh and I took it in good stride when he acted in moderation.
This morning though, he was really pissing me off.
I arrived to my parent’s house around 1, I was in the area after a job interview went awry and decided to chill at home rather than try and battle it out with rush hour traffic. I turned on the television, internet worked in the house but the reception where my parents lived was horrible. My phone was practically useless except for emergency calls, and after an hour or so I was wondering where my parents were today. But I knew where my brother was.
He was hiding in the bathroom after all. I spotted him as soon as I walked through the hall to the living room, in the crack of the door I saw him reflected in the mirror. He was probably hoping to scare me since I usually barreled in and headed straight to the bathroom to pee. I’m just surprised he managed to get inside without me hearing a peep since I just happened to stop by. I had to admire his dedication though, the bathroom light wasn’t on, and though I can see a part of his clothes behind the shower curtain, it didn’t seem he had any of his phones or electronics. He was just wasting his time. Five minutes, then ten minutes go by.
Usually, after fifteen, he comes out of the hiding spot, ridiculing me for being so “oblivious” or simply having run out of patience, but this time it’s been over an episode of a tv show and he hadn’t even given up yet. Maybe he was at the age when he didn’t want to let pride get the best of him. But I did have to pee.
I ended up using my parents’ bathroom, before turning off the television so I can go back into my old room. Most of the things were changed, but I liked sitting at the windowsill. I cracked open my computer, Matty will come in here soon, or my parents ought to be home any minute considering I don’t remember them ever leaving him home alone before. I wasn’t allowed to spend hours at home until I was thirteen, even in the day time. I guess the differences between the first kid and second kid were completely different.
Matty at least had more determination than I did, Because I can see him peeking at me, through the closet door this time. It was barely open a slit, and though I couldn’t stare long, I saw the white of his eyes staring at me. For the first time, I actually felt a bit unnerved. Maybe this was his new plan. Freak me out that I would react or obviously notice him in my peripheral. So I decided to double down. I popped in my earphones, and I started clicking at the keys and trying my best to pretend like I couldn’t see him.
It’s been an hour now, and I don’t know how he’s done it. Matty hasn’t spoken or shifted once. Wasn’t he uncomfortable? He had to be laying down on one of the shelves. His head was fully tilted, but he wasn’t resting it against a pillow or anything. He just held it there, never making a sound, never blinking. Halfway through, I got up and opened the sliding closet door on the other side, grabbing a long-forgotten jacket as if it was suddenly so important. Really, it was just my excuse to properly close the sliding closet doors that squeaked as their tiny wheels slid as they have my whole life.
Enough was enough I thought. I went to the fridge and grabbed two sodas. He was certainly more creative than usual, but he was getting older and this sort of behavior wouldn’t be cute if he decided to take this game to someone else. I heard some banging, and a few thumps from my old room, he must be trying to get out of his spot now. Good luck I thought, the door was a bitch to open from the inside, and from the sound of it he can’t even push it open from the inside. I’d have to let him out.
My body turned cold, the moment I walked back into my room. Because there, in the corner of the window, I saw Matty. He wasn’t in the closet anymore. His hair was different, sticky and seemingly matted, he was partially hidden by the gutter drain trailing down the house, but I could see half of his face. His eyes were bright and almost maniacal, as if he urging me to give in, to notice him. My grip on the two sodas tightened, and I averted my eyes. I didn’t realize he was still stuck on this, and though I had came in with the idea of congratulating him for his perseverance, suddenly when I felt his eyes on me, I couldn’t.
I was scared of a twelve-year-old. I took both sodas right then, and opened them, sitting on the windowsill. His face was in the corner, behind the post. I chugged the first one, and gradually began to sip at the second. As if they were both for me this whole time. I don’t know how to describe the terror I felt, his face was hardly a foot or two away, and I had to purposefully crane my head in an unnatural way just so he was hardly in my peripheral. But he was looking at me this whole time. His face was extremely dirty like he hadn’t washed in a while, I could see something glistening off of his hair and forehead, and somehow his skin just didn’t look quite right. What scared me the most, however, was how quickly he had moved.
I guess you can say, Matty and I are pretty skilled. But I had barely left the room to walk to the kitchen and back, so how did he get outside? The window doesn’t open, and he never left, not to mention our house was on some stilts, he would’ve had to climb the gutter up a couple feet, or have climbed out from another window and climbed over somehow by holding onto the bricked wall. He wasn’t tall enough yet for this to be an easy endeavor.
And he certainly wasn’t strong enough to do it for an hour.
My hands shook as I typed and searched leisurely through facebook and reddit, and ultimately when my phone died, I decided to give up and just…go home. My parents still weren’t back, even as I grabbed my things (and a couple of leftovers for dinner), and drove all the way back to my little studio. It was completely different than my parent’s home. My door opened up into my kitchen, and then my “walk-in” closet that I had to walk through each time to get to my bedroom. It was small, but it was just me.
I pulled my closet doors closed, when my phone started turning on and with it, a bunch of notifications. From my mom, my dad, my grandparents and my cousins.
“Where are you” “Why aren’t you answering” “Jesus Christ look at your phone” “Melanie call me”
Confusion sprouted and it felt like I was punched in the gut. This whole time, I was lazing about my home and there seemed to be an emergency. I called my mom
“HAVE YOU SEEN MATTHEW?” she answered on the first ring, her voice trembled and choking back a sob. She sounded like she was in the middle of a panic attack. I opened my mouth to respond, but no sound came out at first, “Y-ye-”
“Oh thank god” relief buckled through her as sobs overtook them, and I could hear some sort of exchange between her and my dad.
“Melanie, is he with you??”
“No? He was home?”
“When?”
I had my phone on speaker, scrolling through my texts to see when I had gotten to the house. It seemed my phone finally caught up, including my calendar.
Matty had his inter-regional volleyball tournament today, I had been so bummed about not being able to make it, but after the shitty interview I had it slipped my mind today.
“He can’t be home, we haven’t even left the convention but he went to the bathroom and when he didn’t come out we checked and…Melanie you need to sit down, but something might have happened to him. The cops won’t let us see but someone said something about there being so much blood and signs of…”
Terror encapsulated my body. Not only because my father wasn’t the kind of person to joke about these things, and the way my mother sounded wasn’t something someone can just…act out. Not even that he had an afternoon session game, and there’s no way he could’ve just walked from the convention home by the time I got there.
But because I saw Matty, standing in my closet again, in my little studio I locked once I walked in. The ends of his lips curled into an unnatural grin. I could see where the lips bled from the flesh being so taut, the grin ripped different areas open. The closet door I had shut was open just a crack, his fingers curled around the door frame, they were larger than mine, muddy and dark with flecks of something dark and brown. Matty was larger, I was horrified by the body I could see through the crack of a few inches.
His grin only grew, I couldn’t pull my eyes away, the skin around the edges of his eyes and mouth I realized, were slapped onto his face, slagging in some places whereas other places, like at the edges of his chin and forehead, I realized were taut because he had something pulling the skin back to keep in place.
It was wearing Matty’s skin.
“Boo”