“What did I say about books, Elliott? I believe I said no books, whatsoever.”
Mother was standing behind Elliott, tapping her fingers against her hips as she stood there, looming over the child.
“But mother, it’s a school book. I have to read it!”
“The main protagonist is a girl. Which is not allowed. And it is about girls pretending to be boys. I wouldn't want you getting any strange ideas to become a girl. I know you love being girly.” Mother plucked the book from Elliott’s fingers, and he felt fear crawl up his throat.
“What is a protagonist?”
“Doesn’t matter. All that matters is that you don’t read this book, or any book for that matter.”
Elliott felt like crying. “But mother, that is for homework. Plus, I don’t want to be a girl. I would never want that. Promise. Please give back the book.”
Mother was growing angry with Elliott. Even his cute face couldn’t protect him, not this time. She grabbed his arm and yanked him out of the seat, pulling him from the kitchen. She dragged him forcefully towards the basement, and then yanked him down the stairs where he tripped and fell. Like a ragdoll, he tumbled down the old, wooden steps until he hit the concrete floor.
“Mother, I’ll listen. No more books, I promise.” Elliott whimpered as mother pulled him back up. His ankle hurt, but he ignored the pain as she tied him to the punishment chair. He knew this chair well, and knew exactly what being tied up in it meant. He tried not to focus on the blood stains covering the floor and instead looked up at mother.
“Nope, too late Elliott. You knew better and you disobeyed. It’s time for punishment. Unless you want Adrian to take your place?”
“No!” Elliott yelled. “Don’t, please, I’ll take it. I’ll take the pain.”
Mother reached in her cabinet of toys and pulled out a knife. “One cut for every page you read in your silly little book. Let’s see, your bookmark is tucked in page 104. That means 104 cuts.”
She grabbed his wrists and found empty space towards his elbows, and began to slash. Once his arms were beginning to fill, she reached for his legs and hips, any place where there was avaliable skin.
Elliott was trying not to cry. His eyes were closed and his mouth was clamped shut. He would not cry. He would not cry.
“There. 104 cuts.” She wiped down her knife and put it back. “Now, I’m going to cook dinner. Be quiet until I come for you, okay my darling Elliott?”
Elliott watched as she pranced up the steps, and slammed the door shut. He wanted to cry, but there were no more tears. He’d held them back for so long that he couldn’t seem to squeeze them out. His own mother had left him here to bleed out, and his arms and hips and legs ached with the sting. He was used to this. This was nothing new. And now he knew better than to read.
* * *
“Elliott, did you do the reading for today’s class?”
Of course he hadn’t - Elliott had sworn off of reading. He hated it, the thought of reading someone else’s words. Well, that was what told everyone. No one needed to know why his wrists were decorated with scars.
“No.”
“Well, detention again, after class.”
Elliott was used to this. Last year, he received so many detention that Anna had to have a chat with her foster son. It seemed that this would be a repeat of last year.
“He has practice though.” Brent said from the back, and Elliott whipped his head to look at the dark haired boy who had always hated him. There was no doubt about the fact that Brent didn’t like him, but there he was, trying to protect Elliott.
“Oh well. Elliott will have to explain to his coach why he couldn’t read. Alright, moving on.”
Elliott was so confused. Brent had stood up for him, and he demanded to know why. Natasha wasn’t in this class - there was no reason why he should pretend. Perhaps he’d been looking out for the sake of the team.
Elliott just pretended not to care as he practically slept through class.
Lunch wasn’t much better. Instead of eating with Natasha, he decided to eat with Adrian. He didn’t want to sit near those girl, especially the one who asked him to the dance. He also just wanted to be with his brother who had been acting strange around him lately.
When he sat down, Adrian was reading a book. It was a natural reaction to rip it from his hands, but Elliott refrained as he sat down.
“Why are you reading?”
“I believe you mean, what are you reading. And I’m reading ‘The Things They Carried’. It’s pretty good.”
Elliott couldn’t believe his ears. Since when was reading pleasurable?
“No, seriously. Why are you reading? You know how mother felt.”
Adrian paused his reading to look Elliott in the eye. “Mother isn’t here now, and I want to read. I’ve always wanted to read. I know you hate that, but it’s the truth. And this book has really good points, Elliott. I think you should read it.”
Elliott laughed bitterly and shook his head. “No. Never. Have you seen these scars? I was tortured for reading. Tortured, Adrian.” Elliott pushed up his sleeves to present them to Adrian. They were ragged and brutal looking. “I will never pick up a book again. Not after what mother did to me. I refuse.”
Adrian put a hand on his brother’s leg. “Elliott, you need to move on. We all do. There’s a part in this book where this guy - he went through the war - had killed himself because he told no one about what he went through. Keeping everything bottled in had killed him. I’m worried for you, Elliott. You never tell anyone anything. You bottle everything up, and I don’t want you to die. I really don’t want you to go through the same thing.”
Elliott stood up and shook his head. “Adrian, no one can know certain things. No one can know. No one. No one can be trusted, can’t you see that? Only I can be trusted, and so I will never tell another soul my secrets. Don’t you understand? Mother will know. She’ll find out. And she’ll gorge your eyes out of your skull like she threatened to do to me. She’ll do it.”
Adrian stood up as well, trying to grab his brother. “No, she’s not here anymore, Elliott. You need to realize this. You need to let her go. She’s gone, okay?”
“No!” Elliott yelled, ripping away from his brother. “She’s here, trying to get us back. And she will, and once she does, she’ll kill us. All of us. Mat too. And it’ll be your fault, because you aren’t following the rules! You’re going to get us killed, Adrian! Killed!”
Elliott ran away, out of the school completely. He couldn’t sit here and listen to his brother trying to tell him advice. Adrian was too young to understand. He’d been scarred, but not as much as Elliott had. Not nearly enough to scar him quite as bad.
Elliott was a ticking time bomb. It was only a matter of time before he blew up.
Brent could barely breathe. He’d come to find Elliott, due to Natasha’s insistent nagging, and he’d found so much more than he bargained for. Elliott was going through so much more than he could even begin to understand. There was nothing he understood, but he knew that Elliott needed someone. Elliott needed a friend. And Brent realized that all this time, he’d been bullying a kid who was so damaged he was afraid to pick up a book.
Brent wanted to know Elliott. He wanted to know what his mother had done to him, and he wanted to know why Natasha had seen something in him worth befriending.
But.
Brent knew that his short time bullying the pretty boy would keep Elliott away. In fact, it probably scarred the boy, and Brent knew Elliott wouldn’t come lick the hand that abused him. Clearly he had lived through enough of that at home.
If only Elliott had said something to someone, maybe he wouldn’t have detention. Or, maybe his brother was right. Maybe Elliott should move on, like he had. Either way, Brent felt his heart ache for the pretty boy. Something he never thought he’d feel towards Elliott. Everyone had demons, and Brent was soon realizing that Elliott had a lot of them.
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