It had been a long time since Matt had tried to kill himself.
The first had been before his arrival at the Whammy House orphanage. He had been living on the streets. How he had gotten there, only he knew. But it was common knowledge among Roger and the teachers that his mother had died in a train wreck and his father had been a drunkard who beat him every night. Though the bruises healed and the cuts faded, he was still there hurting and although he never showed it or admitted it to anyone, he had always felt he had wanted to die.
So he had tried to kill himself. He had been smoking for almost two years by now and he had expected it to kill him already. But it didn't, despite how young he was. So, right before he was picked up in the streets, he had tried to jump in front of a speeding car. Yes, a fast way to go and wouldn't be as bloody if he timed it just right. But the car had seen him at the last moment, swerved, and avoided him. Then the incentive to kill himself was gone. So Matt had to try again.
But he hadn't gotten that chance as the police found him around the area and took him into the station for questioning. Apparently the driver reported him out of concern, but Matt always felt that it was out of spite, that the speeding driver was more concerned about his car and wanted Matt charged with something than have Matt be picked up and sent somewhere. The police hadn't known what to do. Matt provided no answers. He didn't even provide his real name. He had probably forgotten it amidst the confusion by now.
Then he'd been given over to the Whammy House. The caretaker, Roger, put his mind to the test, getting surprising results. Not only could Matt hack without even having had a lesson in his life, he could see things faster than more than half the teachers in the house. In scenes he was shown, he pointed out the mistakes and flashes of situations that normal people couldn't see. He could even give the frame number.
But with all that steady fame among the children, Matt wasn't happy and he didn't socialize. The teachers had tried, but the smoker just turned away and walked off. Most kids didn't know him thanks to that. The top two students, Near and Mello, didn't see him either, but they were too busy anyway. Matt had always known such a life where no one gave a glance.
If that was how life was, life sucked and he didn't need it.
What didn't help was the situation with another student. A. Alternate. The boy was a hard studier and worked at everything he was given. But pressure was building and Matt could see it everyday. Perhaps he saw himself in that student because no later than two weeks after his arrival, A took his life.
This led to Matt trying again. He had come to terms with the realization that the only reason he was at the orphanage was to be a back-up for someone who he didn't know and would never know. Just like his father, the teachers were trying to force ideas upon him and he felt nothing short of a sacrificial lamb that would eventually succumb to ideology that wasn't his to begin with. His second time trying to kill himself was when he got hold of a pair of scissors from one of the teacher's classrooms. They were long and sharp, pointed at the end and ready to use. He wondered briefly if he should cross the street or run down the road. He settled for across the street and opened the scissors, rolling up his sleeve. He wasn't sure why his eyes felt hot up to this point and why his hands were shaking. He didn't think.
A quick slice and that was it. The skin broke easily and blood began pouring out his wrist in streams, going down his hand and dripping to the floor. He began to feel dizzy. But it was at this point that his door opened and he looked up. He hadn't expected a certain blonde to be standing there, looking at him with wide blue eyes, blonde hair falling over his orbs in disarray. He looked like he had been running. Almost like he had sensed something. Mello.
"The fuck do you think you're doing?!"
First thing Matt felt was the pair of scissors being slapped out of his hand. They fell to the floor with a clink and snapped shut, mingling with the blood puddle on the floor. The next thing was cloth pressing against his wound. It was the closest thing Mello had been able to grab – it was a shirt belonging to Matt, but it was old and just sitting there – and the blonde did one more thing.
He smacked Matt.
The smoker blinked, registering the stinging on his cheek like a wake-up call, and alarm bells went off in his head. He realized what he had been doing, what Mello was doing, and then something broke. Something within Matt snapped and he began to cry. He knew most kids didn't cry over anything at this place and he felt ashamed he was crying now, in front of another student – Mello, no less – but there was nothing he could do to stop how he felt.
What the hell had he been doing?
He expected Mello to chastise him, to yell at him to stop his sniveling and crying, but it didn't come. Instead, as the blood flow thinned and began to slow, he felt something come around his back. The pressure, which Matt realized to be Mello's arm, pushed him up against the blonde, his head on Mello's chest. For some reason, the embrace felt comforting, like Matt hadn't ever felt something like it before, and he found his hand coming up to clutch Mello's black sleeve like a lifeline, gripping it with energy he didn't know he still had left. Tears fell down his cheeks. And Mello said nothing.
Roger found out about the incident and warned everyone not to go near Matt's room as a safety precaution save for Mello, who had been the only one able to calm Matt down enough to get him to talk. Roger made sure Matt got the right treatment for his arm. The old man also knew there was no amount of words that could get Matt to never pull something like this again. At the same time, Roger knew Matt wouldn't. He didn't know how he knew, but he did.
After the incident, Matt began to sport the goggles he either placed on his forehead or let dangle arbitrarily around his neck. No one knew who gave them to him. They hid his eyes, hid his true emotions, and the only that knew them was the person who gave them to him.
"Hide your eyes and persevere. I'll be waiting for you."
Matt had his reason to live.