WIDOW IN MY BED

Eight-year-old Matt…

It was so long, so long ago, that the hatred inside the memory of a boy named Matthew Wallace was rusted. Matt was completely devastated by the loss of both his parents.

The vengeance, anger and fear that accumulated inside his chest slowly crystallized like a burst of ice.

After that day, Matt only had one goal. To survive. He was killing the man who had taken his parents’ lives and smashing them all to ashes. A boy with a terrible mind who wants to hear the screams of pain from those who have dared to touch his family.

The heavy snow in New York City has not subsided since last night. It is white and cold to the point of having to turn on the heating all day. Every December, the houses there are decorated with various Christmas lights and trinkets, shopping malls are crowded, and many family-themed events are televised.

Among the joys of welcoming Christmas that morning was a house that a boy lived in, which he did not fit his behaviour as an eight-year-old. Most children would play snow or watch television all day while eating cookies on long holidays. Still, the boy stayed up all night because he was too curious about his father’s book on absolute monarchy.

Since childhood, Matthew Wallace has known that he’s valuable. It’s arrogant that he realizes his talents and thoughts more meticulously than a boy his age like a lion sleeping and waiting to be awakened. Sometimes, I even feel bored coming to school because he thinks there’s nothing worth learning. Everything is boring.

A thought that would become very dangerous when touched by a feeling of bloodthirsty and revenge. The boy was a small fire that would devour everything if it was oiled, eventually becoming a terrible disaster.

Matt closes the last page of the book to search for his mother-Rosaline De Opera-who is taking care of the clothes in their home basement. “Ma… are you down there?” Matt shouted from the end of the stairs.

“Yeah, baby, Mama’s drying clothes.”

“Did you stay up all night at work until you didn’t come home all night?” asked Matt one more time.

Laughing little at her son’s question, “Papa, you have to take care of his work before Christmas Eve arrives. Oh yes… There’s milk and an omelette on the table. Finish your breakfast because you’re growing up, Matt.”

After hearing his mother’s orders, Matt walks into the dining room for breakfast, not even a hint that this morning’s omelette will be his last.

Matt’s little body was raised in a very normal family environment. His father was an Indonesian-American blacksmith who owned a drug production business that distributed drugs to several hospitals in America. At the same time, his German mother worked on Wall Street.

The family looks like a happy family with parents and a boy who loves each other. The sound of television broadcasting news about storms in different parts of the United States was common when Matt fed a spoon of fried rice into his mouth, only mumbling for a little sympathy. “Well, what can I do? It’s only a small part of natural disasters that can’t be predicted.”

Then, distracted by the sound of the car, he heard from outside the house, “That must be Papa.”

With his little feet, Matt ran towards the window to see his father coming. It was his father’s car, but it wasn’t his father who got out of the car, but two men who were seen watching his house with bloodstained hands wielding firearms.

The boy’s body trembled. It was the first time Matt saw a real weapon, and the redness of blood that kept dripping stained the snow.

Matt’s instinct was not stupid, even though he was just an eight-year-old boy at the time. However, a feeling of fear and threat choked his breath, getting stronger as the mother suddenly ran from the basement and grabbed little Matt for him to hold tight.

The woman in her thirties ran hurriedly to the top floor to protect her most precious treasure, her only son. Her face looks determined despite having to hide the feelings of despair that were clearly drawn from her two eyeballs, and Rosaline is a mother who tries very hard to keep her son alive.

Climbing up a ladder to open a small hole in the ceiling, she said in a trembling voice and ceaselessly glazed eyes. “Matt, you have to follow Mama’s orders this time. Matt can’t get out of there until the cops come. Matt has to stay there no matter what. Never go out and make a sound that will catch their attention. Mama will still be here to take care of you.” Then Rosaline grabbed her son’s cheek affectionately and also pained the slicing.

“I don’t understand, Mama…”

The woman knew that her child was confused with the current situation, feeling sick because her baby had to go through something terrible.

“Listen to me. Those who are out there are bad people. They also have the heart to hurt a child like Mama’s handsome son. Those guys…,” Rosaline can only take a deep breath in reality. “… I think something has happened to your Papa.”

“Papa… won’t come home?” Matt’s tears are getting louder. He knew he’d never see his father again.

Rosaline nodded in doubt, “I knew that if Matt were so smart, Matt would have to hide up there well. Does Matt understand?”

“Mama, if they’re bad, let’s hide together. Matt will protect Mama.” The boy hates crying because he thinks it looks childish, but this time, a lot of tears keep coming out of his eyes. “Matt must be able to protect Mama…”

“No, son. I’m going to stay here because my son has to live. Promise me that Matt will do what I say this time, okay?” The mother raised her trembling little finger. “Matt can promise to me?”

Little Matt just froze when he hooked his little pinky to Rosaline. Not long after the separation, the woman could only gently embrace the fragile body of her little son, whom she would protect with all her soul. That hug felt so desperate because it was the only way that little Matt could go on living.

“I really love you, my son. Matt is my most precious son. He’s very handsome and will be an amazing boy. Mama’s very lucky to have given a good boy like Matt. So… Please, please, Matt should stay alive. “The woman tightens her arms, kissing her son’s innocent face for the last time and stroking his black hair for the last time.

“Because I’m going to be so sad if my son gets hurt.” That was the last sentence Matt heard before his mother closed the ceiling. The boy could only snuggle up on the ceiling while peeking from the hole he deliberately made. How her mother continued to cry desperately to ask for life, but Matt, who at that time was helpless as a child, could only hold his mouth so that the sound of her tears would not be heard out, so that he could live, as promised to her.

“I know you have a son. Where is he now? Tell me bitch!” asked a man with a terrible face.

“He… he’s not here. He’s been sent to Indonesia for a long time to live with our relatives.” In order to protect his son, Rosaline must continue to act so that they don’t suspect; even when her bones are destroyed, Rosaline must survive well.

“Don’t play games with me! You know, you and your husband are so brave to get involved in my boss’s shitty business! Because of you, we have to keep running away from the police!” The man shouted right in front of Rosaline’s blood-filled face and tears. “Now tell me where your son is, or I’ll get the fuck madder!”

Matt saw himself using his eyes, how his mother’s hair was pulled and how her body was slammed. The body of the woman he respected the most continues to be beaten and trampled with extreme harshness, bruises, and blood, making the little boy lose his mind. The sound that felt so sad was clearly heard through the screams of the mother, who kept begging until the last bullet was released. He even remembers how his mother’s dead body was raped.

Matt wants to scream angrily and run towards his mother. He wants to save her, but he has promised to keep quiet up there, to keep surviving.Têxt © NôvelDrama.Org.

But how to survive after seeing the destruction of his family? How can he live if the woman who gave birth to him is treated as if there’s no price? How can he survive when his father is never coming home? How can an eight-year-old survive all that madness? A very terrible sight has been planted in his head, Matt filming everything, the people who have destroyed his family.

And it was the first Hell of Matthew Wallace’s life, which would change everything. Turn a white piece of paper into black. It has to be very black and very dense.

“After that, Uncle Robert came to New York to pick me up. He was someone very close to Papa, and then I lived and went to school in Indonesia for quite a long time.” That’s how Matt ended the story.

“Are you sad?” Amanda’s question made Matt stare at her. Amanda got up from her chair and walked up to Matt in the night breeze that continued to blow from the top balcony of the De Opera Hotel. Now Amanda stood in front of Matt, who was still putting on a shocked face and approached to hug her lover gently.

“You can feel sad or angry, too. I’ll listen to you as you listen to me. I understand you as you understand me at the time.” Amanda’s embrace was warm. Although Sydney was so cold all month, Amanda’s body temperature was always full of warmth that Matt missed being addicted to, so obsessed.

Matt asked when his two hands were coiled around his girlfriend’s body, returning Amanda’s hug as tightly as he could. “I’m Feeling sad. Can I be normal?”

“Fool, you should have done it.” Amanda cries, making Matt stunned because there’s a woman who’s willing to shed tears for him.

The man smiled, then gently wiped away Amanda’s tears. “Why do you like crying so much, baby?”

“Sorry, sorry I cried. But it must have been very painful…” Amanda’s still trying to talk with a mouthful.

“I’m fine now. I’ve been sad, but it’s been a long time, and I’ve finished off those who destroyed my family. Yes, I’ve avenged myself with these hands, making them crawl under my feet to beg very sadly.” Matt said without hesitation in front of his woman.

Amanda gets used to it every time Matt says something unusual. The man has never hidden anything from Amanda, whether it’s about her business or her personality.

Strangely, no one scares Amanda or doubts because Matt will be so gentle when he gets back with her. Amanda doesn’t care if Matt doesn’t hurt her. She is also a little greedy because Matt can only act like this to himself.

“Matt…” Amanda called him tenderly.

“Yeah, what’s up, baby?”

Their eyes lock with each other as Amanda’s face slowly approaches. Her nose now touches her male nose, wiping the firm jaw of Matthew Wallace, which feels strong. “Thank you for surviving.”

Matt doesn’t understand what Amanda is saying, but that phrase that just came out of Amanda’s lips feels so sincere-it’s like magic.

“Matt, I beg you very much-don’t get hurt, don’t get sick. I want to say it again. Thank you, Matt, for being born and finding me. I’m grateful to have met you.

…