The Macabre - 2

Roland jumped onto his bed, sighing loudly and overdramatically. He placed his hands on his stomach, groaning slightly. He kicked off his shoes and rolled around, curled up in a ball.
It was the food rationing that got to him the most. Not the flesh eating monsters, not losing his parents, or his plush rich life, but food.
Okay, maybe he did miss his parents and old life a lot, but he was always a big eater, and having to cut down sucked.
Like that night, their meal had been some weak tomato soup with some crackers. That was barely anything compared to the three course dinners he'd have in the old days. It may have been almost a year and a half since then, but he still craved them.
He sighed again and rolled onto his back. There was an easier way to get rid of the stinging pain in his belly. He went over to his door, checking nobody was coming. With a satisfied smile, he shut the door firmly and made his way back over to his bed, knowing he wouldn't be disturbed for at least another hour – Matt barely ever came up to sleep anymore, and when he did, it was only for five minutes, and Tamworth was still looking for that Depth kid.
He ducked under his bed and shoved his arm under, patting around on the floor. He brushed past something cold and glass. He winced slightly, swallowing.
Don't think about it...
He grabbed onto a lose floorboard and pulled it up, placing his hand inside the gap. He grabbed something from inside and slid his arm back out. A greedy smirk appeared on his face. Half of a large bar of chocolate. He snapped off a line of it and stuffed it into his mouth, moaning happily at the sweet, smooth taste. He shoved the remainder of the bar back into the lose floorboard, jumping on his bed and chewing slowly. Maybe it wouldn't fill him up, but it sure as hell filled a gap.
A loud knock on the door brought him out of his daydream. He swallowed the chocolate quickly, coughing slightly.
"Come in!" he choked, sitting up and covering his mouth.
The door opened slowly, revealing the bright blonde, pink faced head of Ashly. She grinned nervously and entered fully, glancing away.
"Who told Tam about the book?" she asked slowly.
"Matt and Max," Roland said with a loud sigh, "But to be fair, he didn't know that he wasn't meant to find out about it. We know how bad he's feeling about Alice. Why do you ask?"
"He says he's gonna beat up Jack whenever he finds him. He kept going on about it at dinner," Ashly replied, sitting down next to him, "It's bad enough that we're fighting the grown-ups, we don't need to be fighting ourselves as well!"
"You know what Tamworth is like Ash," Roland exhaled loudly, "He acts like a dick when he's upset and then beats people up."
Ashly's cheeks flushed red slightly. "He never used to be like that though," she said, falling back on the bed, "He was this tall overweight nerd kid. He did well at school, he played computer games all day, he listened to rock music, he read comic books. Now...he's changed...everyone has..."
"You haven't changed," Roland said, falling back beside her, leaning on his side, "You've not changed one bit..."
She turned, frowning slightly. He reached over and pushed her hair back behind her ear, smiling sweetly.
"Roland..."
The door slammed open before she could continue. Matt raced it, a worried look on his face.
"Uh, Rol, Tam's found which room Depth is in, and we need your calmness to sort 'im out."
He paused and raised his eyebrows as he noticed Ashly. "...Ashly, go to bed, it's getting late."
Ashly rolled her eyes and walked past, giving him a slight shove into the doorframe as she did so. Roland got to his feet, looking nervously at Matt. "Well, lead the way!"

Tamworth pushed past a group of youngsters, glaring at them bitterly. The group started backing away slowly but he grabbed the closest one, an eyebrow raised.
"Which one of these kids is Jack Depth, eh?" he growled.
The kid pointed at a small boy in the corner of the room. His head was leant over a thick hardback notebook, scribbling something down on the pages of it. Tamworth smirked slowly and let go of the kid, stomping over.
"Oi! You!"
Jack looked up, blinking. "Oh, hi Tamwo-"
Tamworth pulled up the boy and shoved him against the wall, his arm pushing against his throat.
"You're writing about our dead, ain't you?" he hissed, wrinkling his nose.
Jack nodded nervously, holding up the notebook. "Th-this," he whimpered, "T-to remember them, as th-they deserve to be re-remembered."
"Is my sister in it?"
No reply.
"Is my sister in it!?" Tamworth barked, pushing down harder.
"Yes, okay!" Jack choked, "You just have to deal with it – your sister is dead."
Tamworth dropped him. Jack held his throat, gasping for air, before the older boy turned and punched him squarely in the nose. Jack slid down against the wall, blood trickling down his face.
He snarled, cracking his knuckles loudly. The entire room was silent.
"She isn't dead," he hissed, kicking Jack in the leg, "She's fine. She's alive. She's not like the others – she was strong, quick, smart. She'll survive."
He kicked him in the ribs, harder. "You hear me?"
Again, no reply. Tamworth hissed and stamped down on his hand.
"You hear me?!"
"Yes," Jack coughed, blinking away tears.
Tamworth sneered and turned around, glaring at the group of younger kids. "Well? Wha' you waitin' for?!"
The group scarpered to their sleeping bags. He smirked. He had them all under control...
"Tam..."
He turned and blinked at the doorway. Matt and Roland were standing there; Matt's eyes were dark, nose wrinkled in annoyance. Roland was shaking his head, looking at Jack on the floor.
"Matt, go to my room and get the First Aid kit from the wardrobe, will you?" he asked, walking in and kneeling down beside Jack.
"'ight," Matt replied, sending one last death-glare at Tamworth before turning on his heel and leaving.
"Tam," Roland said with a loud sigh, looking up at him, "Why?"
"Why? Why?!"
Tamworth sneered slightly. "You don't understand. You've lost everyone already. Alice is all I have left."
Roland laughed in disbelief, shaking his head. "I don't understand? I don't understand?!" He stood up, staring up at Tamworth. "Did you even listen to what you just said? We're in the same situation here mate! Actually, I think I understand a bit more than you do! I lost everyone. My mum, my dad, my entire family. YOU still had someone, and I don't think she'd want you remembering her by beating up some poor kid who was trying to remember her!"
"She ain't dead," Tamworth repeated, his face blank, "She can't be dead."
"Just deal with it Tam," Roland growled, going back to Jack, "She's dead. She was taken by grown-ups. There's no deader than that."
Tamworth clenched his fists again but simply ran out of the room, spitting out swear words at Roland.
He'd show him. He'd show them all.

"Riiight, First Aid kit..."
Matt started rummaging around in the wardrobe, moving boxes and plastic bags aside. He paused slightly, reading the writing on one shoebox - SUMMER 2009. That was just a few months before all...all this happened. Curious, he opened the box and was instantly greeted by...his own face.
All of them. The whole group.
He took out the photo and looked at it, reading the date on the back. It was Tamworth's tenth birthday party. He remembered his mum had insisted on a big group photo of everyone.
There was Tamworth – then Steven, he reminded himself, at the front of the group, long hair spiked up at the front, glasses undamaged, a nervous grin on his face. Next to him was Alice, hair a more fiery red than his, her body small and skinny. Wrapping her arms around Tamworth's neck, in an attempt to leap onto his back was Ashly – his little sister. This was how he always preferred thinking of her, the smiley, hyper young girl, not the girl she was now – she'd seem to have grown up since then.
Then it was Roland, beaming but there was something sad in his eyes. He wasn't looking at the camera; he was looking at Ashly, a small frown on his face. Matt smirked. He had almost forgotten how fat the guy used to be.
Grabbing onto Roland's neck was him – the sinisterly smirking chubby kid, his only care was going into the next school year. His hair was dyed again, black with red streaks on the fringe. Standing next to him was Roxxie, arm wrapped through the crook of his.
He missed that smile so much. It had been so long since she'd smiled.
His heart stopped for a moment as he saw the two faces behind them. The pixie-faced girl with short purple hair, and the tanned muscular blonde with a permanent nervous grin on his face. The girl had her arm wrapped around the boy, laughing loudly. The boy had his two fingers sticking up behind Tamworth's head.
"Oh God," he said, sighing loudly.
He could barely remember their names. He could remember in this photo they were fifteen.
Only fifteen. Their whole lives were ahead of them, and it was just gone. He had no idea what had happened to them after it happened. He didn't want to know. They would have been seventeen by now, starting their A Levels.
He sighed again, putting the photo down next to him and looking through the rest of the photos. They were mostly from Roland's holiday to France that year – photos of him red faced and smiling, stuffing his face with ice-cream and sitting on the beach, a good few of him and his mum, mostly of her hugging him tightly. He'd always thought that Roland's dad was a lucky guy – his mother was a beautiful lady. There was one of him and his dad in there. It was of them swimming in the private pool they had in their villa, Roland looking extremely awkward as his dad tried to lift him up, a pained look on his face at his son's weight.
Matt chortled slightly and carried on looking through the pictures until his fingers brushed past something cold and metallic. Frowning, he wrapped his hand around it and slid it out from under the photos and let out a short, breathless gasp. A small grey handgun, unloaded. He looked through the box and found a single bullet.
He swallowed and put the gun back, shoving the box back into the wardrobe. He quickly found the First Aid kit and, tucking the picture of his friends into his jeans, ran downstairs, trying not to think about what his friend was doing with the gun, or why there was just one bullet. He didn't want to think why, he just wanted to pretend it wasn't there.
"What took you so long?" Roland cried, raising an eyebrow as he finally arrived back.
"Sorry, I got, uh, distracted," Matt murmured, shoving the kit at him, "There was a lot of...memories, in there..."
Roland frowned and took out some cotton wool, gently rubbing it against Jack's face. "There," he said soothingly, "It will be fine..."
He turned his head to Matt, still cleaning up Jack's face. "What sort of memories?"
"Of us," Matt sighed, sitting down cross-legged next to him, "Y'know, our group. The Losers."
"Did they honestly call us that?" Roland snorted.
"Well, they honestly called me Flabby Lector!" Matt cried, "And to be honest, The Losers is what I called us. It seemed...appropriate..."
He took the photo out of his pocket and showed it to him. Roland's pupils shrank slightly.
"D'you remember their names?" Matt asked quietly, pointing at the older boy and girl, "Because I can't..."
"Zoe and Chris," Roland murmured, finishing up on Jack, who smiled weakly.
Matt winced. Of course, how could he forget? Zoe, the slightly unruly artistic girl. Chris, the quiet swimming champion.
"It's been so long," he said, leaning his head on his shoulder, still looking at the photo, "I still can't believe you were that fat, mind."
"You see yourself?" Roland snorted, turning slightly pink.
"I weren't as big as you," he sniggered, "To be fair; you're still pretty big now!" He gave him a small jab under the ribs, making him squeak.
"Well, yeah, you know," Roland murmured, blinking at Jack, "Now, did he hurt you anywhere else?"
"Kicked me," Jack managed to groan, "In the leg. And the ribs. Hard. There...and stood on my hand..."
"Has he broken anything?" Roland whispered, gently picking up his hand and rubbing his finger over it, head tilted.
"No...it just hurts..."
"Good, good." He smiled and put his hand down. "You just be careful with it now, okay? Don't want you breaking anything."
"We might 'ave to chop it off!" Matt snorted sarcastically.
Jack looked up at him, eyes wild with fear.
"I'm kidding, I'm kidding!" he replied quickly, raising his hands, "It was a joke!"
"Oh, right, of course," Jack chuckled quietly, bowing his head. He looked at his notebook and pencils, sighing loudly. "I thought he'd be happy. That I was doing it."
"See, thing 'bout Tam is, he can't 'andle stuff like this," Matt explained.
"He'll be happy about it soon," Roland added, patting Jack's foot gently, "Now, get some rest, hey?"
Jack nodded. "Thanks for cleaning me up," he murmured, "You'd make a good doctor."
Roland chuckled, cheeks blushing. "Well, uh, thanks. Sleep well..."
They got up and walked out of the room. As they walked up the stairs, Matt noticed the worried look on Roland's.
"S'matter bro?"
"Matt," Roland started, with a small sigh, "When you were looking through the photos, you didn't find anything...strange, did you?"
Matt swallowed and gripped onto the banister. "Um, what do you class as strange?"
"Something that wasn't a photo..."
"Maybe..."
Roland glanced away, sighing again. "Look, if you found what I think you did...please don't judge me about it. Please. I will tell you just...not yet anyway..."
Matt frowned and patted him on the shoulder. "Uh, its okay mate...you take your time."
But something about the way Roland was acting about it worried him. He'd always been a bit of a nervy kid, but the fact that he didn't want to talk about it, even with one of his best friends...
Matt shook his head slightly, thinking hard. He'd find out soon, but he dreaded that time.