DDOlympics Storytelling Part 2

How to Escape Matthew kicks the chair out from beneath him and falls. But only for a second. BEFORE THAT, Matthew updates his Facebook status to read: free! BEFORE THAT, the stars in the night sky gleam like a casino, indifferent to the events on earth. Matthew sits beneath this tapestry and slowly raises his glass to his lips. It is his second time drinking. BEFORE THAT, Matthew disconnects the Skype call. The timer reads 28:31, of which at least 25 minutes had been his parents screaming at him. BEFORE THAT, Matthew steels his resolve and turns on his laptop. BEFORE THAT, Matthew tries calling Alex but receives only the voicemail. BEFORE THAT, Matthew receives a B on his Science in the Cold War exam. BEFORE THAT, Alex dumps Matthew, using a few clichéd apologies. It's not you; it's me. It's just not working out. Keep shining. BEFORE THAT, the captain kicks Matthew off the soccer team. Try theatre, he sneers. BEFORE THAT, Alex climbs gracefully out of the bed and plants a kiss on the sleeping Matthew's cheek before quietly departing. BEFORE THAT, Matthew enters the Starbucks nervously. The air outside has already begun to cool in the wake of the smoldering sun, the final ember in the fireplace. Matthew spots Alex sitting at one of the tables. He places an order and sits across from Alex. Hey, Alex smiles. Matthew smiles back. BEFORE THAT, Matthew attends his first class at Harvard University. Having overslept, he is twenty minutes late. BEFORE THAT, a boy sits next to Matthew at orientation. Hi, he says. I'm Alex. BEFORE THAT, Matthew's parents say tearful goodbyes. His mother plants a kiss on his cheek. His father says, make us proud, son. BEFORE THAT, Matthew studies the landscape whizzing past the window. The cyan-tinted guard rails reveal more and more rust and less and less cyan as they go on, but the rails remain in place. Matthew looks above and beyond them, to the amorphous clouds lazily drifting through the endless sky. It would be easy, he thinks, to get drunk on sky. BEFORE THAT, Matthew sits with his girlfriend Alice at their favorite restaurant. She reaches across the tablecloth and tearfully grips his hand. You'll be someone this town can be proud of, she informs him. Matthew smiles. I'm just going to miss you so much, she sobs. We'll stay together, right? Promise? Matthew squeezes her hand and assures her that yes, they'll stay together. When the check comes, Matthew pays. BEFORE THAT, Matthew's parents parade him before his relatives as though he were Aunt Tiffy's Chihuahua mix that had won that bronze medal back in January. We always knew he'd get in, says his mom. Whenever his relatives ask what he would become, his parents laugh and answer in unison. A lawyer, says his mom. A doctor, says his dad. They look at each other and laugh again.BEFORE THAT, Matthew stands before his fellow high school graduates. He looks down at the speech smoothed out on the podium. He clear his throat, feeling hot in the constricting robes. He wishes he could take them off. He presents the same speech every Hollywood movie does. We're off to bigger, better, and brighter futures, he promises his fellow students. But we shall forever carry with us the memories we made here. Our experiences here provide us the tools with which we can construct our futures. Later, he joins them in throwing his cap in the air. It's a social custom, after all. BEFORE THAT, Matthew opens his Harvard acceptance letter.BEFORE THAT, Matthew sits in a comfortable yellow chair. It is the only one in the room without armrests. The interviewer sits opposite him and gazes at him through horn-rimmed spectacles. Why should you be in Harvard, asks the interviewer in his most snobbish voice, which sounds like a British accent being stuffed into a blender. Matthew recites his answer flawlessly. Community service. Dedication. Leadership. Perfect grades. The interviewer ticks down to his next question. Who is your favorite author? Matthew answers William Faulkner because of his depiction of Southern attenuation in the Reconstruction-era South. The interviewer nods and scribbles a note. BEFORE THAT, Alice lies next to Matthew. He can feel her warmth, the touch of her body against his. Her parents are out for the evening, but something compels the two teens to silence. The minutes drag by. Finally, Alice asks if anything will happen. Matthew says no. BEFORE THAT, Matthew sits in a lumpy office chair. His guidance counselor sits opposite him and gazes at him across the desk. On her desk is a picture of her cat, Tickles, a small collection of rainbow-colored hi-liters, a copy of Matthew's transcript, a computer, and an award dated eight years back to 1977. Where do you want to apply? Matthew rattles off the names he knows he should say. Harvard. Princeton. Yale. The counselor nods encouragingly. You're going to make something of yourself, she says.BEFORE THAT, Matthew brings home another report card filled with A's, including the highest marks in AP Organic Chemistry and the only perfect score on the test in Multivariable Calculus. I still think you should drop that drama class, says his father. Matthew just nods. BEFORE THAT, Matthew, clad in a rich black suit, arrives at the recital hall for the charity concert. He sits before the decently sized crowd to play Chopin and Beethoven in order to raise money for educational programs for autistic children. When he finishes, the crowd leaps up, roaring for an encore. Matthew bows and obliges. That's what the crowd wants, after all. BEFORE THAT, Matthew scores the final goal for his soccer team, catapulting them to their tenth consecutive victory. It is the first time they reached double-digit wins in over thirty years. Matthew's teammates hoist him onto their shoulders and run around the field in celebration. Their jubilation proves infectious; even Matthew manages a smile. BEFORE THAT, September rolls across the town, turning the leaves into fiery clothes for the trees. Matthew's parents prepare him for his first day of senior year. His mother snaps his picture with a Kodak camera. His father dusts off the front of his shirt. Visit the career center, he reminds Matthew. Apply to the best schools and get the best grades. You can start building that resume for a job, too. BEFORE THAT, Matthew scrubs furiously at the liquid staining his carpet. The vacuum sits nearby, filled with bits of broken glass. The car starts outside, and his father drives off into the night. BEFORE THAT, Matthew's father walks into the bedroom just as Matthew lifts the bottle to his lips. It is his first time drinking. BEFORE THAT, Matthew is the kid everyone knows, the kid everyone wants to be. BEFORE THAT, it is a nice sunny day.