Who Do You Think We Are?

By KS Stewart

Growing up, Jake and Matt did everything together. But after the night Jake's mother was killed, the two of them spend six years away from each other. While Matt wants to find and rekindle their friendship, Jake has already moved on. Does "growing up" mean "growing apart"? Do you have to give up your past to make way for the future? Or can the two of them work towards a new bond?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Dec 15, 2019
• ISBN: 9781794809345

Book preview

The Starting Line

The sound of his pale feet smacking across the pavement was the only noise in the eerily silent neighborhood. He had to get away. His legs burned and ached, but he couldn't stop. Jake could feel his father's glare digging into his back, imprinting scars in the shape of eyes.

His mother's eyes...

God, he whispered between heavy breaths, the pain of his words causing tears to well up. The image of his mother's empty gaze couldn't be wished away. Her eyes, the same brilliant shade of green she had passed on to her son, turned pale. Those eyes which had become void of any emotion.

Jake's thoughts stopped when his feet did. Looking at the mailbox, he realized he was at 173 Madeline Boulevard.

I'm already here? he thought. It usually took him ten minutes to arrive at Matt's house on foot, six if he ran. But it felt like mere seconds had passed since leaving his house, a minute at the most. How long had it actually been? How fast had he been running?

Jake nearly collapsed from relief after seeing the familiar sight, but he couldn't stop now. He carried himself to the door, ignoring the crushing pain filling the right side of his rib cage. The boy raised his hand, slamming the side of his small fist against the door again and again as if he was trying to break it down. He didn't care how late it was. He didn't care if the entire neighborhood heard him. Jake had to get inside the house. He'd be safe if he could do that much. Even after hearing a faint voice calling, I'm coming, hold on, from the other side of the door, he couldn't stop. Jake was so close, he couldn't stop now.

The door clicked before it opened, Mrs. Ishimura revealing herself. Her naturally golden hair was lightly messed up from the few hours of sleep she had already gotten.

Jake? she slurred, her eyes half-open. Do you have any idea what time it is? Where are your parents?

I... the boy's voice squeaked. The tears he had tried so hard to hold back came rushing out all at once. The woman rubbed her eyes and looked more carefully. This time, she noticed the blood seeping through his jersey.

Oh my God, what happened?! Her once groggy voice jumped awake, but Jake ignored her. He pushed her aside and bolted up the stairs. Flinging open the first door on the right, the boy hurried inside the darkened room and slammed the door behind him.

Jake pressed his back to the door as he slid to the ground, trying to push his pale hair out of his face on the way down. Because of the sweat and tears, some strands stubbornly stuck to his reddened cheeks. His breath raced in and out of his lungs, his chest ready to explode with adrenaline.

But it didn't matter.

He had made it.

Finally, he could stop running.

Jake's desperate eyes searched in the darkness. There, on the bed, was an unmoving mass enveloped in blankets. This particular lump went by the name of Matt. Jake stared at the sleeping boy, unsure of what to say. Would it be alright to wake him, or should he just wait until morning?

Before he could decide, the mass of covers moved, answering the question for him.

It's almost midnight, a lethargic voice crept from the bed. What the hell are you doing here?

Jake froze. You're up?

No, I just slept through my mom yelling downstairs and you slamming my door. Matt rolled his eyes and sat up, turning on the Hulk-shaped lamp on his side table. Unlike his mother, it only took Matt a second to see the blood and tears covering his friend.

What happened to you?! Matt jumped out of bed, nearly tripping over his feet as he rushed to Jake's side.

Jake lowered his head, his bangs hiding his face. It's... He stopped. He couldn't say It's nothing like he usually would. He didn't have the energy to lie. Not tonight.

It's what? Matt urged his friend.

Jake opened his mouth to speak, but couldn't summon his voice. The salty beads poured from his eyes, dripping down his face and off of his cheeks. She... he managed to choke out, but his breathing was too unsteady to form complete sentences.

She? Who is... wait. You mean your mom?

Jake took a deep breath, attempting to calm himself down. She... wasn't... but again, his breath jumped out of his control.

She wasn't what? Matt put his hand on Jake's shoulder. It's okay. You can tell me. I'm here for you. He gave a light smile, the corners of his pale lips gently curving upwards.

Blinking, Jake finally stuttered out.

Huh? Matt tilted his head to the side, not sure how to take the statement. Why wouldn't she blink?

But Matt's question went unheard. Jake shoved his hands into his hair, yanking at the follicles tightly. She wouldn't blink. She just kept looking at me, like it was my fault. It's all my fault. It's all my fault... Jake kept repeating to himself, beginning to rock back and forth to the chant's rhythm.

Matt lightly shook the other boy. Hey, stop that. I'm sure it's not your fault. What happened?

Again, Jake didn't acknowledge Matt's inquiries. His mind was a blur. A distorted pile of images flooding his brain. He couldn't answer. What could he say? Even he couldn't fathom what had just happened. But one word kept coming back to him. Blood... so much blood...

Yeah, I know, Jake. You're bleeding. A lot. So we need to get you to a hospital.

The blond shook his head. Not my blood.

Matt paused for a second, his eyes widening more as each word sunk in. Wait. Who's blood? Jake, who was bleeding?

My mom, Jake choked out, she wouldn't blink.

Trouble

Matt slumped back, losing the ability to speak. Even if he could, what would he say? What was there to say? He helplessly stared at his best friend, hoping to come up with a different reason as to why a bleeding person wouldn't blink. But it couldn't be true. His twelfth birthday was next week. Every year, Mrs. W made a cake for him. It wasn't a birthday without her. It had to be a mistake.

Matt's hands started to shake as the horrific thoughts filled his mind. His stomach felt like it was trying to force a rock up through his esophagus. It tore away at the walls of his throat, pulsating at the same rate as his breathing. He tried swallowing it back down, but it seemed stuck in its place. That was, until a soft knock came from the door behind Jake.

Toto? Jakey?

Both boys heard Mrs. Ishimura's voice, but neither moved. A bubble of time stood still around them. It was as if someone had hit pause on the scene inside the room. But outside, everything was still moving.

Kids? She attempted to open the door, only to find her way blocked by Jake's body, which sat huddled against the entryway. Unable to see the boy, she tried once more- shoving Jake harder and causing him to yelp in pain. She retracted from the door, quickly apologizing. Sorry! Jake? I saw all the blood. Try not to move, alright? We just called the police, and they said the ambulance is on its way.

Jake's head lifted at the word 'police', his gaze aimed directly at Matt by the end of the sentence. Matt saw his friend's face go white in an instant. The eyes reddened by tears opened wide to reveal sheer panic. No... he muttered in a shaky voice. No! They can't come! he screamed, lunging his frail body away from the door and towards Matt, grabbing his friend by the shoulders. Jake flinched in pain, but simply dug his fingers into Matt's shoulders in response. Matt, you have to help me. If he sees the cars, he'll know I'm here. Please, I can't let him find me! Tears once again started falling down Jake's cheeks. Please don't let him find me. Jake leaned forward, allowing his arms to go limp.

Who, Jake? Stretching out his hand, Matt pushed some of Jake's hair away from his face to see him more clearly. Who's going to find you? The boy waited for a reply but only heard whimpering in return. Matt shifted, sitting taller and raising his voice. There isn't time for crying now. You have to tell me who did this.

He's gonna find me...

Jake? Another voice came from the doorway, which Matt quickly recognized as his own father. The knob turned, allowing the door to open a few inches now that Jake had moved from the entryway. Matt's father was a lean man whose distinct Japanese features showed his heritage more clearly than his son. Besides the body type and dark hair, Matt had gotten almost all of his physical traits from his European mother. They shared the same striking cobalt eyes, doll-like nose, and oval face. While relatives had told him those features would make him a lady killer in the future, Matt just thought it made him look like a girl.

Dad, you have to call the police again and tell them not to come.

It doesn't work that way, he stated, sliding his slim body through the cracked door and squeezing into the room. Jake is seriously injured and we have to get him to a hospital.

No! Jake screamed, his fear stirring up once again. He'll find me!

Matt's father crouched down next to the boys, putting his hand on Jake's shoulder. No one will come after you here. We're all here to protect you. Charlotte is calling your mom's cell, so just hold on.

A small, awkward smile crept onto Jake's face. The boy laughed through his breath, his hands falling from Matt's shoulders and landing helplessly on the ground. She won't pick up.

Hey, Jin. Mrs. Ishimura's lightly tanned face popped in through the slit in the door, her eyes glinting from the lone lamp which lit the dimmed room. Like her husband, she was thin and easily squeezed through the opening. Sarah didn't pick up her phone.

Mr. Ishimura looked at Jake for a moment. He gave a heavy sigh before standing up from his crouched position, scratching the back of his head lightly. I see. Did you call John yet?

Yeah, he picked up when I called the house phone before. He said he'd be right over after he took care of something, but who knows how long that'll-

No... Jake looked up again, turning to the woman. No! Why would you call him!? He'll come now! He can't come! He tried to stand up, but cringed from the damage on his side and fell back to his knees.

Matt, Jake cried, his tone becoming desperate, ...help. Please help. I'll do anything. Jake whispered in a feeble voice. I promise not to make you play basketball with me anymore. We'll stay in and play video games. I know I'm not good at them, but I'll get better so it'll be more fun to play with me. Please, just hide me before he gets here. Please.

The adults stood still, unsure of what was happening. Matt, however, already had a general idea.

What did he do this time? You have to tell me or we can't help you.

The injured boy took a deep, shaky breath before answering. We were in the kitchen and my dad found my- he paused for a second, something resembling panic crossing his eyes. ...one of my tests. We were talking about my grades again. He shoved me really hard and I... he trailed off, his breath becoming unsteady. Jake closed his eyes in an attempt to calm himself down and tried to speak again. I hit the counter where my stitches were. I tried to stand back up but I couldn't, so mom... she stepped in to make him stop, and he pushed her back and, he interlaced his fingers together, allowing his hands to embrace each other tightly. And the back of her head hit the counter. And there was this really loud crack. And she fell down next to me. I thought she just hit her head really hard, but she wasn't blinking. And dad kicked her leg and told her to get up. But she didn't move. So he did it again. I told him to stop, but he just yelled at me. And then he kicked her harder. That's... when I saw the blood. It started going everywhere. Her hair... it was red. He took a brief pause, all ears in the room tuning in to him. Dad started swearing when he saw the blood. He said he'd take care of it and went in the garage, and that's when I ran for it.

Jin knelt down beside Jake quickly, a mixture of disbelief and dread in the man's eyes as he spoke. Jake, this is serious. If you're lying, you'll be in big trouble.

Jake sniffled and wiped some of the tears from his face. I knew she wouldn't answer her phone. She can't. My mom's dead.

Sirens sounded outside, signaling the ambulance's arrival.

Charlotte. The man turned to his wife as calmly as he could, attempting to keep himself composed. Mrs. Ishimura seemed even more shaken up than Jake was.

Sarah... she whispered meekly. Oh my God, Sarah...

Charlotte, I know. But we can't do this now.

But sh-

I know, but I need you to be strong for me. Help Matt take Jake downstairs. Go with them to the hospital and keep watch over him. I'll tell the police what Jake just told me.

Why don't you go to the hospital? I can—

No. John knows that Jake's here. We don't know what he'll do right now. It's not safe here anymore. I'll handle John and the cops; you take care of the kids.

Mrs. Ishimura hesitantly nodded. She leaned over and gave her husband a hug, praying for everything to turn out okay. She let go and walked over to the children, placing her right arm around Jake's back and her left arm under his knees, carefully picking him up. Come on, Matt. We have to hurry. She rushed down the stairs with Jake in her arms, Matt following close behind.

Waiting

The air smelled of medicine and disinfectant spray. Everywhere Matt looked, there was someone dressed in grayish-green scrubs. They paced around with clipboards in hand, occasionally stopping to talk to someone in the waiting room.

And he was among those waiting. Matt sat with a tense posture, his thin fingers clutching tightly around a bottle of orange soda. He had been sitting there for a few hours now, waiting for the doctors to finish attending to Jake. One of the nurses had come out to speak to Matt's mom already. The impact from Jake's side hitting the counter had broken a rib, as well as ripped open the stitches Mr. Whitman had given him last week. That, in addition to the internal damage from his ribs, was the cause behind all the bleeding. It came as no surprise to hear Jake had suffered from significant blood loss, but he was recovering now.

Matt.

His mother stood over him with her sixth cup of coffee in hand. She was the kind of person who was in bed at ten and up at six. She needed her eight hours to function, and being up at two in the morning was obviously taking its toll on her.

Did your father call while I was gone?

Matt nodded. Yeah. The police got there after Mr. W and took him in. Dad said he had to go with them for questioning. He just got out now, and he said the police are giving him a lift here.

Really? That's nice of them.

They need to question us and Jake too.

She groaned in frustration, turning around and slumping herself down in the seat beside Matt. Tonight's never gonna end.

He stared down at the bottle, his eyes blankly studying the bright reflection from the lights hitting the plastic. Mom, what's gonna happen?

She turned her head to Matt but didn't say a word. Her mouth opened a few times like she was about to speak, but kept stopping right before anything actually passed her lips. Matt noted she seemed more nervous to speak than confused.

Mom? He stared at his troubled mother. What's wrong?

Her thin lips forced a smile as she finally replied. I... don't know what's going to happen now.

Then can Jake come live with us? He doesn't have anywhere else to go, right?

I honestly don't know. I don't know how these things work. It really all depends on Jake's relatives. If one of them will take him in, then that's where he'll go.

What if they don't?

Then we'll see what we can do. Jake's not an adult, so we might have to adopt him for us to look after him.

So Jake would be my brother?

Legally, yes.

So he'd be Jake Ishimura?

If he wants to be.

Matt sat back in his seat. It doesn't fit him at all.

They both snickered. Maybe it was because they'd had time to calm down, but the mood seemed less intense. Matt opened his soda and drank about half the bottle in one go. Most of the orange drink was still in the bottle, as it had tasted dull before, but now it seemed to have magically become sweet. That was, until he noticed a dark figure through the slowly emptying bottle. He lowered his drink, removing the synthetic tube which blurred the image.

It was a police officer.

Charlotte? the man asked.

Matt's mother stood up quickly. Gordy. Is there any news? Where's Jin? And John?

Don't worry. Jin's on his way with another officer and John's being kept in lockup. The officer looked at Matt, tilting his hat slightly and giving a plastic smile. Nice to see you again.

Hi Officer Smith, Matt replied blandly. There weren't a lot of cops in their town since they were one of the more rural towns in Arizona, but this one held a special animosity in his heart. When he was younger, still in single-digit ages, Matt had looked up to this family friend. Strong, sure, and a fighter for truth and justice. Like the superheroes he'd read about in comics or the protagonists in video games. When he first saw all the bruises Jake had taken great care to hide, Matt's immediate reaction was to play the hero. Barge in and put Mr. Whitman in his place with a grand speech. But instead of displaying his courage and strength, Matt cowered and sunk back once he was face-to-face with the man. He was far too young to play hero for real. This was an actual enemy. A true final boss. But he knew someone who could deal with these kinds of situations.

Matt went to the police station the next day to tell Officer Smith what he knew. But instead of flying off to save Jake, he made a phone call. A few minutes later, Matt's father strolled into the station and took him home. Matt was confused. He didn't know what had happened or why. He just knew he had failed. But Matt was nothing if not persistent and went back the next day to the same result, being told this time to not believe everything Jake said. Matt's confusion cleared up when he talked to Jake about it. Apparently, he had already tried to do the same thing years ago. But Officer Smith, being a friend to both the Ishimuras and the Whitmans, was exceedingly understanding when it came to kids exaggerating about how they're disciplined. Even with injuries as proof, Officer Smith chose to privately deal with the situation rather than making it a police issue. The story Mr. W gave was that Jake was making up stories for attention.

But Matt refused to call it quits. He couldn't stand by and watch Jake suffer, so he gave it one more shot; this time taking Jake with him. He was covered in evidence, but both of them were barely there for ten minutes before Jake's mother came to pick them up and apologized to the officer for the disturbance. They laughed about boys being boys and told to keep a closer eye on them since they were starting to become a disturbance. Again, Matt was confused. He didn't know why Mrs. W wouldn't also want the help. Jake just shrugged when he asked.

Every now and then, Matt would see Officer Smith at graduation parties and local events. Each time asking if they were staying out of trouble. Matt usually ignored him, since he had proven to be useless. The man would shake his head and talk about kids these days having no manners before going off to talk to someone else.

But instead of the exasperated face Matt was used to seeing, Officer Smith now wore a dismal expression. Matt knew it may have been wrong, but he kind of wished Officer Smith realized now what they were trying to tell him all those years ago. He hoped the man now knew what kind of hell he was sending Jake back to every time he picked up the phone. More than anything, though, Matt wished every night before the police officer went to bed, he would remember how he played a part in Mrs. Whitman's death.

And he hoped he would feel as sick to his stomach as Matt did.

The Hospital Room

Another half-hour passed before Matt was allowed to visit Jake. While it was late and visiting hours were long over, the nurse on duty said it was fine. She led him down the empty hall towards Jake's room. The floor was a sterile shade of white linoleum, matching