Matt's Story [COMPLETED]

Chapter 1 - Matt

Matt was able to be alone for the first time in his life.

He'd found the perfect place, his favourite place, and now there was no way was he going to be disturbed. This moment was not going to be ruined by some stupid stuck up little idiot who thought they could take him on. He wasn't going to get distracted by petty little arguments that teenagers seemed to have nowadays about ridiculous subjects such as 'who was the best actor in this programme' or 'what they'd do to someone if they were real.'

No, this was his moment and he was going to bloody enjoy it.

One steaming hot cup of black coffee was held in one hand, resting on a plain round glass table that he'd moved from the café around the other side of the building, built specifically for one person. The chair he'd also borrowed from the front was underneath him, straining with the weight of his body pressed against it. His arms were forcibly relaxed against the chair arms, causing the metal to bend as he moved further in his seat.

          Now, Matt wasn't exactly huge as you may imagine him to be. In fact, he was far from huge. He was tall but he had the normal average sized body that every other boy had his age. He was definitely one of the tallest boys in his class and had one of the most well looked-after bodies compared to other people but that was probably due to the fact that he didnt vegitate like most guys his age.

Unlike most of the teenage boy population, Matt hated games. He hated xbox games specifically. The graphics would hurt his eyes if he played for more than an hour and the sound was so loud, even on the smallest volume, that even if he wanted to play, he'd have to play his games in silence. The fact that he would get annoyed and throw the controller at the TV, smashing the screen, wasn't really a big part of his hatred, though it created a hole in his pocket each time he did so. 

No, he hated gaming. He hated sitting there for hours playing a game which just frustrated him and put him in a bad mood. That was probably why he focussed more on concentrating on his physical appearance instead, creating a body so tough that it would surprise anyone else if they got close enough to see it, not like he was going to let anyone close enough to even get within a few metres of himself anyway.

Maybe his weight was due to the muscles, invisible to the human eye, that coated his bones, hard, strong, and thick underneath his tanned skin. His stomach was like a ladder of rocks, protruding out of his body like hard marble. His legs weren't too bad either, considering the amount of running he did on a daily basis. He was surprised no one had even considered what he looked like underneath the layers. 

They would never find out even if they wanted to.

          No, he decided, as if suddenly figuring out something he already knew. It was his bones that gave him all of his weight. Unlike most boys, Matt's bones were very dense and strong, causing them to be so much heavier than any other boy his age. That was probably why he didn't look heavy on the outside, but was practically impossible to knock down, even by the biggest lads in his class...

Not that they tried.

This was what annoyed him: being different. He hated having to class himself as different to others. His frustration, as he thought about it, made him whack the glass table, causing it to shiver and clang with the stress. It made his eyes widen as he realised that he was still sat in the alleyway and not several metres up in the sky in a crazy daydream like he was a few moments ago.

Why was he so different? What had he done that had made him deserve all of this? Why was the world punishing him, of all people, when he'd already had such a depressing life, not even reaching two decades?

          Though he probably looked calm if you passed him in the street, he was the complete opposite right now. He was never fully relaxed. He'd probably forgotten how to relax by now. High on alert, his fingers flexed against the burning pottery in his hand.