Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I don't claim to known, own or otherwise profit from anyone associated with Smosh or Smosh Games. It's just for fun!Author's Notes: So...I totally didn't expect to get this chapter done so quick. I started working on this tonight and just couldn't stop typing. Umm, this is going to be a very dark one - veeeery different from the ones I've written thus far. I'll keep the rating at T for now, but I may have to bump it up as the story progresses. I got this idea when I went to see a local musical, so kudos to anyone who can guess which musical it is! Other than that, I realize mental illness can be a touchy topic, and I will do my best to handle it tastefully and realistically, but please feel free to correct me if I've made any mistakes. Thanks for reading!
Clothing was ripped from the closets and flung out of drawers. Books, magazines, and sports memorabilia littered the floor, coating every inch of the creaky wooden floorboards. Posters were torn from the walls and the bed was unmade - the sheets pooling around a single suitcase resting in the middle of the mattress, completely empty. David Moss stared at the destruction as though it was someone else's mess - someone else's life being thrown upside down and in disarray.
This was his childhood home. He had grown up here. And now he and his mother were leaving it behind - abandoning the memories of his father and brother that had been kept preserved by these walls, all because she had moved on. All because she fell in love with someone else. Marriages fell apart, yeah. He understood that. But what he didn't understand was why the marriage falling apart had driven a wedge between him and his fraternal twin brother. Why had they been sent to separate houses?
David stepped forward, carefully lifting one of his videogames from the shelf - the only items that hadn't been completely upended and thrown around in frustration. A light tap on the glass of his large bedroom window pulled his attention away, and he saw his brother Matt hovering outside - clad in his black hoodie and torn jeans. They didn't look alike the way you would expect with twins, but the resemblance was enough to make it known they were brothers - the same hair color, the same dark eyes, and the same lack of sun in their complexion.
"Open the window, dickhead," Matt pulled his hood a bit further over his face, glancing over his shoulder to make sure he wasn't spotted.
David stepped over his belongings, unlocking the window and yanking it up so Matt could come in off the roof's ledge, "You shouldn't be here. Mom made it pretty clear she didn't want you around the last time she caught you..."
It was true. Matt took a risk every time he showed up. Their mother always got irrationally upset when she caught David and Matt together - and David always got the brunt of it. He honestly wished he could be more like Matt, sneaking in without a care and leaving much the same way. Even now, after David's warning - Matt merely shrugged with his natural indifference, cleared a space on the bed and sank onto it.
"I don't care what she thinks. You shouldn't either. You know the only reason she's moving out is so she can keep us apart. When are you gonna tell her to fuck off already?" Matt paused, reaching in his pocket and pulling out his pack of cigarettes. He offered one to David.
For a moment, David contemplated it - smoking in their mom's house and not packing like he said he would, would be the ultimate act of defiance. But he was too much of a coward to defy her, too much under control to do anything to upset the balance any more than Matt already had, so he waved his hand to decline the smoke before he came to settle beside Matt.
"I don't think it's the only reason. I think she genuinely loves the guy we're moving in with. I mean, she is marrying him in three days. But keeping us apart is probably a strong incentive. She keeps saying 'David, we need to live a normal life. Living with Kenichi will give us that normal life.'"
Matt put the cigarette between his lips and lit it up, "It's bullshit. It's an excuse. She doesn't even look at me when I'm here. She hates me. She gave birth to me AND you! Why are you the only one she can look in the eye? I'll tell you why. Because you're a bitch."
"I'm no-" David began to protest, but the argument was weak at best. He was a bitch. He would have left so many years ago if he wasn't.
"You are a bitch. One she can control. One she has right under her thumb. We're almost eighteen, you know. We don't have to take it. We can leave and live our lives better than how she tries to control them."
The offer sounded so tempting. Matt had a way of offering a light at the end of a dark tunnel - a path David could take if he wasn't a coward. If he could just take the leap, he was sure the life Matt offered would make him soar. To be free and not have to abide by the rules, overprotection, and medication - he fantasized about it for a moment, traveled the paths in his mind and was only broken out of his daze when he heard footsteps ascending the stairs.
"David, who are you talking to?" His mother's voice shattered his daydream and brought reality crashing back down.
"You gotta go," David rose quickly and ushered Matt to the window.
"She's gotta face me at some point!" He argued, dragging his feet but still obliging his brother's wishes.
David's tension rose and his heart raced when he heard their mother approaching the door. He practically shoved Matt out the window and onto the ledge, grabbing his cigarette from him so he could climb without having it in his hands. Matt gave him a defiant look, and they stared at each other - locked in a showdown. Matt challenging David to let him back in and David pleading Matt to leave to avoid trouble. Somehow or another, David won this time and Matt relented, slinking down the ladder. He watched until Matt had disappeared into the woods, exhaling a breath of relief just as his mother opened the door.
He didn't turn to face her, instead watching her reflection in the glass of the window. He saw her take a look around at the mess and frown. He saw her direct that frown at his back, "David, I told you to - is that a cigarette?"
Realizing he was still holding Matt's cigarette, he quickly tossed it out the window, "It's not mine."
Her hands claimed her hips, "Really? Then who's is it? No, wait. Don't tell me..." She walked to the window and closed it, twisting the lock into place. "Matt's."
David finally met her gaze, but he didn't respond.
The disapproval registered on her face, "I don't think you realize you can't hide it from me." A long suffering sigh unveiled past her lips and she opened a little amber bottle in her hands, upending a tiny pill into her palm. "I see you forgot to take it again. Three pm, every afternoon. You have to keep on a schedule otherwise it won't work."
David slapped her hand away, the capsule flying into the air and landing in a stack of papers, "Why? So I forget what it is to feel angry or upset? So I can take the pill and be so fucking happy for you and Kenichi? So I can be your perfect little prize of a son to show off to your soon-to-be doctor husband and we can live our lives without Dad or Matt! Why won't you look at him?! Why do you hate him so much?"
The words exploded from him - outrage bursting out like a tidal wave. David felt destructive, so he ripped the suitcase off the bed and thrust it with all of his strength into the wall. It made a loud crash and clattered to the floor, and for a moment they both stared at it. His mother with exhaustion and David with fear; he lost control of himself. There was chaos in his mind, a battle of raging emotions. Overwhelmed - he sank to his knees and wept. It took a moment, but he slowly felt his mother's arms encircle him and much though he wanted to keep her as the object of his anger, he couldn't. He melted into her embrace and took the offered comfort.
"David, I love you. You are my world. And I don't hate Matt. I love him too," she pulled back slightly, cupping the sides of his face and lifting his head so they could make eye contact. "But he can't come with us. He's with your father, and that's where he needs to stay. I know you don't think it's fair. And I don't think it's fair either. If I had my way - if there was anything I could do, he would be with us, you know. But there isn't. And it's something you need to accept as well."
He sniffled, wiping his nose on his sleeve. It was the most she had ever divulged to him, the most she had ever said about Matt in years. Up until this point, the only thing she had ever said about him was 'he can't be here.' To know she still cared, well, David wished Matt had stayed in order to hear those words, but he would have to tell him next time they saw one another. No matter how much she said he couldn't visit them at the new house, David knew Matt would find a way.
He leaned his head against the side of his mattress, shaking it slowly, "I can't accept it. I won't. He's my brother and I'll fight for him no matter what."
His mother inched back completely, sifting through the paper pile until she found the pill that had been lost. She picked it up and put it in his hands gently, closing his fingers around it, "I know it's hard, but you have to try." She leaned in, giving him a light kiss on the forehead before rising to her feet. "Things are going to be different. They'll be better when we move. You'll see. Now, can you get started on packing your things, please? It would make things so much easier if you were all ready by Thursday."
"That's tomorrow, Mom..."
"Is it? My, time goes by so quickly. I haven't even called the florists for Saturday! Or double checked my hair appointment or gotten together with Mindy," she bustled from the room in a flurry of wedding plans and stress, leaving David with the aftermath of her presence and the hurricane of his own.
He hated being caught in the middle - stuck between hers and Matt's worlds. He hated her expectations of him to be her one and only son. He hated that she was marrying someone else. He hated that come Monday, his room wouldn't be his room - and the world he knew would merge with someone else's world and family and school. He hated the anxiety, the stress about having to fit in, and the concern that his social anxiety would cause them to hate him as much as he hated himself.
David looked down at the pill in his hand and pushed it into his mouth, swallowing it quickly and hoping it could chase all the hate and other emotions away to leave him feeling nothing. More than anything, he longed to be pleasantly numb.