Chapter one.

                      CHAPTER ONE

chocolate optics fluttered open and were immediately blinded by an ambush of sunlight beaming through dirty window panes. had he not been so enthralled with his work (or rather, lack thereof), he might have taken notice to the growing collection of dust that gathered on the crevices of nearly everything. there was spoiled food on his countertop that was just begging to be thrown out, half filled notebooks that laid across every surface and clothes scattered all along the floor as if he didn’t own a single dresser. he honestly wouldn’t have been surprised if there was a roach family alive and thriving in one of the four corners of his apartment. perhaps today, he’d take the time to clean everything up. perhaps not. though he was raised in a traditional haitian home ran by the iron fist of his grandmother where organization was inevitable, he was never one to enforce structure in his personal life. he knew that he’d eventually have to clean the place deemed his sanctuary, though. he’d get to it. eventually.

he felt a cool breeze brush against his cocoa skin and goosebumps became prevalent almost instantaneously. those damn dutch people and their misconception of temperature. he had complained about the arctic conditions of his building to his super, but she barely spoke broken english and mathieu’s dutch wasn’t developed enough for him to have the ability to hold a conversation. maybe his lack of complicancy with the weather because he was from sunny los angeles, but he saw absolutely no need to keep air blowing when amsterdam was in the middle of experiencing an atypically hawkish winter.

as he pushed himself up from his twin sized bed (that he had won from some weird european internet auction), he let out a soft sigh. he had to face yet another day of hopeless solitude. not that he minded being alone because most of the time, because he really didn’t. he was just getting really tired of the grumpy old woman down the hallway being his on

ly source of human interaction and his cat being his only companion. tate didn’t even really like him that much. matt had rescued him from a shelter his first day in holland and ever since, tate had been  indifferent, as if upset that matt took him from his life on the streets of amsterdam. isa, on the other hand, was often seen chasing the neighbourhood hood kids with a broom as she cursed in such an old dutch that the rest of the residents of  a lot of people didn’t bother speaking to her, but matt’s heart was too big for him to even think of ignoring her.

coffee. that seemed like a great idea. he dragged his feet to the coffee machine as he realized that he still didn’t fully understand how to work it. he had read the directions over and over again while using google translate, but he still didn’t understand it. he was never too good with technology anyway. as he turned it on, he scratched the back of his head and took around his apartment. yeah, it desperately needed to be cleaned. perhaps he’d call the cleaning lady over.

as coffee filled a semi dirty coffee mug, he yawned and stretched a bit. he could still hear his ex girlfriend’s words in the back of his head. that he’d feel better if he swept, dusted, wiped down and organized his space. he knew that in the long run, it WOULD make him feel good, but he didn’t have the energy to do it. his depression was an eight foot pool and he seemed to have lost the ability to swim. cleaning was hard, eating was hard, basic human hygiene was hard. he couldn’t remember the last time he showered. as gross as it was, he couldn’t really bring himself to go into the shower. it took too much energy and he was already used his stamina to walk across his apartment and make a cup of coffee. god, he felt so pathetic.

he heard isa’s voice through his wooden door. she was screaming about something and a male voice was responding to the screams, but matt couldn’t directly translate what they were yelling about. he just wanted to ignore it and go back to being lost in his depressive state of mind, but isa’s yelling was growing louder and he heard more and more footsteps coming.

he threw on a pair of sweatpants, a hoodie and sneakers and immediately gravitated towards the source of the sounds. there was isa, standing in her doorway, kicking and screaming in the direction of several men matt assumed were medical professionals. isa was only dressed in an adult diaper and a sweater. matt curiously wondered what was going on - the curiosity was too much for him to go back inside. he walked towards the commotion and all he could understand was a few ableist words in english.

“crazy!”

“old bat!”

“stupid b***h.!”

isa looked so distressed as her eyes made contact with matt’s and he pushed past the men so he was standing directly besides her. it wasn’t like her to accept help of any kind, but the look in her eyes said she desperately needed it. He specifically remembered how she treated him when he first arrived in the apartment. She was indifferent and kept him at a distance. However, matt was caring by nature, so he couldn’t just walk away when someone needed him. Especially not a helpless old woman.

“what’s going on?”

he spoke slowly and clearly, in broken dutch, hoping the others would understand what he was saying. he had a feeling he was saying the wrong words, but in the present moment, he couldn’t bring himself to care. as much as everyone didn’t like isa (because she was just mean), she reminded him of his grandmother back in california, so he couldn’t just leave her alone. He was often told to take care of himself instead of dedicating his time taking care of other people, but he truly enjoyed helping others. Isa’s eyes were wild and desperate.

“her neighbors called. she was having an episode.”

said a blonde man in perfect english, his eyebrows furrowed and look of disgust in his hazel eyes. matt could feel isa’s embarrassment as she looked at the ground and his heart beat for her. he knew the elderly woman hadn’t meant any harm - she just wasn’t mentally there. it wasn’t uncommon for the apartment to be filled with medical professionals and extended family because she couldn’t function properly, but he knew her pride was far too great for her to admit herself into a nursing home. It just reminded matt of his grandma, so he couldn’t ignore it like the rest of the people in his building did.

“i’ll take care of it.”

matt’s voice was gentle as he took a step closer to the older woman. she smelled horrifically, her hair was matted, her teeth had food stuck in them, but he took no mind to it. Who was he to talk when it had been days since he last showered? He was now standing besides isa and he would’ve extended his arms to her had they been closer, but he hardly knew her and he didn’t want her to push him away. he didn’t like the way the workers were staring at her, as if she were some disgusting animal.

“i said, i’ll take care of it. i’ll call you guys if i have a problem. okay?”

isa’s posture softened and the workers looked relived. as they walked away, matt gently pushed isa inside the apartment and shut and locked the door. his apartment was a haven compared to hers. his was dirty, but hers was just disgusting - and he was one to talk. she began to speak to him in angry dutch and he found his way into her bathroom. this wasn’t the first time he had to help her with her daily hygiene. he was one to talk. he started the shower and attempted to coax her into it.

“isa? come on. you need to be clean. don’t you want to be clean?”

he called softly as he walked out of the bedroom, attempting to find her. she was sitting on her filthy couch, bent over, her head in her knees. he couldn’t understand what she was saying, but it didn’t take translating to know that she was distressed. god, he truly hoped that he would never get like this. too bitter to be around people, too messy to function, too angry to hold a conversation. though he didn’t have the same personality as her in any way, he could see just a bit of himself in her apartment. he felt like a hypocrite because he was trying to get her comfortable, but he refused to take care of himself.

“let’s go in the shower.”

his words were gentle and he reached down and rubbed isa’s shoulder ever so gently. he expected her to recoil from the touch and bark at him to go away, as usual, but she seemed to lean into him. he knew that accepting help was rather hard for the elder woman because she was naturally so independent, but he was glad she realized that she needed his help.

“Okay.”

Reviews

[Tinman07]

I found the lack of capitalisation made it difficult to read... but I'm glad I did.

Depression is a difficult subject to discuss, but I found comfort that someone who couldn't find the energy to help themselves, could find the compassion to help another... possibly in a similar dark place.

Thank you.