4 Best Friends

During my primary school days I learned first hand how cruel children could be, I was heavily disliked for no apparent reason and my mum, bless her, did everything in her power to make my school life happier. By the time I turned eight I'd had a dozen unpleasant experiences, changing schools was a blessing in disguise, on my first day, I met a boy one year older than me called Coda. He had light blonde hair and porcelain skin. Within a matter of days we were joint at the hip, he didn't talk much and wouldn't steal my colouring pencils unlike the kids from my previous school.

He was kind, different and I wanted to invite him over after school. I asked my mum if he could have dinner with us, I knew he'd be quiet and stay with me at all times, so my mum agreed. The next day I invited him over and he refused. Our friendship was three weeks old at that point so I decided not to ask again and I walked him halfway home.

Every time he would stop and stare at me once we passed the light blue house with an eyesore of a garden; it was odd how he would wait for me to be just out of sight before continuing on his walk home.

I wanted to spend more time with Coda, I asked my mum if I could have a sleepover for my birthday instead of the traditional cake after dinner with six o'clock news playing in the background.

"You can have three friends over but you must promise to tidy your room and help me with dinner tomorrow?" she agreed with the condition that I cleaned my room and helped cook dinner.

"Thanks, Mum. I promise I'll keep my room extra tidy." I smiled. I remember joy building up inside me, as if I was a beacon of energy.

The following day, I intended to ask Coda if he'd like to stay over for my birthday. I knew his mum would want to talk it over with my mum and they'd get to know each other in the process.

Running down the hall I stopped at the coat hooks, hanging up my jacket, I practically bounced into class awaiting Coda's arrival. I stared at the door until the bell rang, but Coda never showed.

The following days were lonely, I assumed Coda wouldn't miss a day of school and uphold impeccable attendance. He was a very pale boy and looked sickly. Despite his appearance, I assumed we'd always be together, which sadly wasn't the case. I should've checked on him or went over with my mum to give him a get well soon present but I didn't know where he lived.

I planned to ask him to hang out after school and if he refused I'd suggest hanging out at his house instead. I was keen to know more about him and do what other best friends did, even if it meant not taking no for an answer.

The day he returned to school was sports day, which was the perfect opportunity for me to come over due to school ending an hour early. During lunch, I put my plan into action, I assumed my persistence would annoy him and yet, his response was nothing like I imagined.

"If he comes home, you have to promise not to leave my room?" he sounded serious.

"Scouts honour, we will not leave your room!" I, half joked, taking what he said seriously while ignoring the man he brought up. "I'll have to tell my mum, if I don't, I'll be grounded." I leaned my head on the table while looking at him.

"You can't tell your mum, he will be furious if anyone finds out where we live." his voice trembled at the mention of the man he'd been referring to.

"Who are you-" I was interpreted by Mrs Wight, the hallway monitor. She advised me to eat up and get back outside at the same time as everyone else.

During class, Coda never brought up the man again, it seemed he was afraid of him, which scared me a little too.

'If the person lives in his house, would they hurt me if my mum came looking for me?' I wanted to avoid getting my friend into trouble and worried if he broke the rules something terrible would happen.

Every kid does things their parents dislike, I had never done anything like this before, meaning, my mother wouldn't be pleased. I thought of the man and questioned who he might be; Coda's father, uncle, or a family friend that had taken up residence in their home. It concerned me, to think a stranger had moved into his home and purposely frightened him.

Coda's house looked abandoned; smashed windows, a welcome mat with holes in it, and a front porch creaky and covered in dirty old toys. My first few steps up the stairs were unpleasant, walking inside greeted by a mouldy hallway and the smell of copper and pigeon faeces gave me a nauseated feeling.

I didn't want to believe someone lived like this. Dust coated everything and the spiderwebs had entrapped a few dozen flies.

To my surprise, we enjoyed ourselves more than I imagined. We bounced around, read Coda's favourite book and talked about school and why I changed schools. Coda didn't interrupt me once and patted my arm comfortingly while I opened up about being bullied. He truly was a good friend, that's why on my birthday I decorated my room with blue balloons and covered my walls in posters.

I anxiously waited for the doorbell to ring, Coda and I would have endless amounts of fun and finally hangout in my room. Admitting I was excited was a massive understatement, I sat on the stairs for two hours before he was meant to arrive, just in case he turned up early. I skipped dinner to sit by the door and waste the last few hours of my birthday on someone who enviably never showed up.

I believed we were best friends, I'd been to his house, stayed by his side since day one and only invited him to my sleepover. After my birthday, Coda never came to school again.

I went to his house every day for two weeks. I never got over the heartbreak of losing the only person I cared for in my young life. Our friendship felt normal, our conversations were no different from anyone else's of our age, that's why, it was so hard for me to accept none of it was real.

Last year I turned eighteen, I struggled with depression in my early teens and was medicated by fourteen. My parents did everything in their power to support me and put me into online education when I was just sixteen. I couldn't motivate myself to leave the house or even make a bowl of cereal. I'd completely let myself go until yesterday; when everything started to make sense.

Two days ago, my parents went on a week-long trip to France for their anniversary, they gave me the numbers of our closest neighbours and enough money to buy shopping for the week. I was left completely alone for the first time in years, I thought of harming myself the first night, but something deep inside me told me not too.

Last night, something unbelievable happened, around seven-thirty I went downstairs to get myself a drink. The house was lightless, and my room was lit by a single PC monitor.

When I reached the top of the stairs, I froze, my heart beating out of my chest as my eyes simultaneously started to water.

"Coda?" I muttered.

"Who are you?" he replied.

I had no words, he hadn't aged a day and his body was almost transparent. I thought I was hallucinating until he said something I'd never forget.

"Where's Kyle? I was meant to meet him here." he said my name, after all these years he'd come looking for me.

I could hardly believe it, he was the same boy I'd befriended ten years ago. A part of me felt reassured that my current situation wouldn't last forever because I finally understood why my best friend disappeared.

He was never real, my school teachers never acknowledged Coda until I pointed him out. They were always soft spoken and sweet at the mention of a child they couldn't see. I sat at the top of the staircase for ten minutes, staring at Coda until my eyes stung and I used my shirt as a tissue.

He disappeared when I turned my gaze back to the spot he was standing in. I doubted myself, using the childhood friend who looked no different. It sounded crazy, and yet, The news confirmed my fears.

A young boy by the name, Coda Mathews, was murder alongside his mother, Nina Mathews in 2003 by Father and Husband; Arthur James Mathews. Their remains weren't found for four days, and investigators didn't locate Mr Mathews until twenty-six days after the bodies were discovered.

Arthur Mathews was sentenced to life in prison without the possibility of parole. Sixteen months after his sentencing, he was up for retrial due to pleading not guilty by reason of insanity. Mr Mathews was found fit to stand trial and sentenced to death by lethal injection.