Mateo Cinders | District 5 | FIN

A poor lad, with no guidance, left alone on his own. No one there, to take his hand and even care. Ordered to scrub the floor, he just wants someone to love him more. The only ears that listen to his worries are those of four little rodents, the size of his hand. Nobody there to help him, tell him what’s right or wrong. When the world is full of danger, there is nobody to pull him back and protect him. Mateo, left to fend for himself and break his back for those that don’t love him. His only solitude is in a substance, that a shady man once told him that would make his dreams come true. Two years later, he’s still waiting, dreaming of a life greater than present.

Taking care of others has meant that he has been unable to maintain himself, seen well through his appearance. Those sleepless nights and long hours, reflect in his darkened sorrowful eyes, creases stretching well down his cheeks. Hidden amongst these creases, his brown irises, a reminder of his passed parents. Curly hair filled with dusts, usually mis-placed and looking wild. Dirt lines his fingernails and calluses paint the palms of his hands. Mateo’s body is well worked; even his painful back is slightly crooked due to the countless hours of being bent over scrubbing the floor with a wooden wired brush.

Draped with old worn clothes, which could be classed as rags, Mateo’s wardrobe is scarce. There is only one decent outfit and that is only for special occasions. Even the soles of his shoes are beginning to talk to him, flapping about as he walks even with the countless repairs done to them.

With his never-ending growing, there is no wonder he has no clothes left to drape his body. Rising to six feet and three inches, Mateo hopes he is finished for when he cleans in the tight areas, it is becoming harder to crouch. Having to live off left-overs, his ribs are on full view to the world and obvious indication to his lack of nutrition. Being confined to the indoors is also easily viewable as his skin is as white as the ivory sheets that he cleanses every day.

Scars line his neck and back, reminders of the cigarette burns that he regularly receives. War wounds of his life, that seem to be building up day by day although the donor of these scars does a good job at hiding them from the world for the areas that are affected are those that are covered up by the cloths that they force him to wear.

Being forced to work the house, Mateo is very assiduous with what he does. He believes that if he has to do it every day, he must do it properly. Keeping his head down, he secretly perfects all the simple details. Making sure the creases in the clothes are as sharp as the blades the polishes, everything has to reach the high standard that he has set himself. There is never a time that he moans as a youngster he was reluctant to do anything but now he obeys. Using his initiative, he even finds chores to do that he hasn’t even been set. It’s just his life…work…work…work, he knows no better.

Having to work alone and rarely having the time to interact with a human being, Mateo has adapted himself to be very independent. He has found his own means to socialise, a family of mice living in his room being the major source of contact with a living thing. He’d rather talk to someone that doesn’t talk back, someone that will listen to the things that pain him inside and well the mice do a good job at remaining silent…

Determined to some day break away from this forced life-style, Mateo is very optimistic with his future, having a plan on how to get out. He is hopeful that the right time will come where he can slip away from the hands that clasp around his life and live the care-free life that he dreams to have although for now he must do with the hallucinations. Life-like pictures that happen in his head triggered by the drugs from a man that he doesn’t know the name of. He doesn’t ask, he doesn’t care, he just wants something that is realistic to what he dreams about and drugs give him that.

Recklessness is his downfall; he doesn’t know what the substances that he pumps into his body are doing to him. He has been warned but he doesn’t care, he loves what they do to him, they help him forget about what he must endure. They help him wipe the memories that torment him, help him forget about the faces that beat him. He never wants to fight his addiction; he just wants to feed it and is hopeful that it will guide him into the life that he wishes for.

Childhood was the best part for Mateo, everything was so calm and his life was what he dreams it to be now. It was just him, his mother and his father. They didn’t have much money but they loved him, cared for him and gave him the best start in life that anyone could possibly imagine. For ten whole years Mateo has such a bright life, everything was so optimistic for him. Mateo was very fascinated with rocks and still slightly is now. He loved to read about how the land worked and what lay beneath him so wanted to become a geologist. His schooling ran well along with this career idea as he was one of the brightest in his class, everything seemed set for him in his life…

Until however, not long before his eleventh birthday, his mother became severely ill. The disease was never treated properly, due to the lack of funds in the family, which is why it took her so quickly. Mateo was heartbroken and so was his father however the loss of his mother made them grow such a stronger bond. For a whole year, they were together, watching each other’s backs. It was a tradition for them to regularly go out on walks, at least three times a week, exploring the District. Mateo always hitched a ride on his father’s back, being able to see everything from an aerial shot. The loss of the main woman in their life never drew them apart…instead it drew them closer than ever.

Just before his twelfth birthday, Mateo’s father found another woman, a woman with a lot of money. Just a month after knowing each other, Mateo and his father moved in with the woman, along with her two daughters. Everything seemed fine for a couple of months, Mateo didn’t enjoy the company of the two daughters, Anastasia and Drizella but his father still found time to accompany him so it wasn’t much of a change. Mateo had a much bigger room than what he used too and his clothes became better and the shelves on his walls were filled with books, he couldn’t really ask for anything better.

Although the worse came just after his thirteenth birthday, his father was struck with the same symptoms that his mother had and the disease did a quicker job at taking him. For months Mateo locked himself in his room, secluding himself from the strangers in the house. His step-mother tried her best to remove him from the room until one day she had enough, removing the door entirely. During the time that he needed to grieve, the neutral bond he had with his step-mother became chaotic. The pathetic teasing from his step-sisters became more like bullying and that was the first chapter of his present life…

Forced out of school, Mateo was made to clean the house, doing all the chores that a simple housewife would do as well as other extreme jobs. The books on his shelves were turned into firewood and the clothes in his wardrobe were sold in the market. His large bedroom became a large wardrobe for his step-sister’s to store their clothes and he was forced into the attic. Unable to comprehend the sudden downturn of his life at such a tender age, he just accepted it.

Allowed out of the house, only to collect goods that was when he met the man with the cure…At just fifteen he bumped into him, just outside the market. The man promised that his product would help Mateo achieve the impossible so it definitely caught his eye. Hooked on the drug since day one, every Thursday he meets the man, so that he can get his dose. His step-mother knows but she doesn’t care. She is only bothered about if the house is clean and the food is prepared well on the table in front of her. Injecting the substance into his forearm, Mateo has no clue on what he is pumping into him. As long as it gives him the visuals that he craves for, he is happy. He wonder what he would be like without it…he probably wouldn’t have lasted this long in his life…he’d already be with his parents…wherever they are.

He just wants to ride on his father’s shoulders again, have the big room and all the books in the world to read. Fair clean clothes, a nice pain-less healthy back and food to make him feel stuffed. He wants his life back…before he takes it…