Elliott couldn’t breathe. He’d run farther than he had expected, and his legs were practically jelly. He needed to run. He needed to escape. He needed to never look back. He didn’t know how to convince Adrian to keep his mouth shut. What he said about that book sounded tempting. He wanted to share his secrets. He longed to just unload on someone, but he couldn’t. They were his problems, and he would never dump them on others.
But, he also didn’t want to kill himself. He didn’t want to explode from keeping everything bottled up.
This was a disaster.
He pushed up his sleeves to look at his scars. They proved as a reminder, to tell Elliott not to ever pick up a book again. Not to ever disobey mother’s rules. She had a lot of them - she always had. But, there was something about mother that made Elliott continue to want her love and respect. He wanted his mother to smile at him and kiss his forehead, like a mother should. He longed for her to wrap him in her arms and tell him that things were going to be fine.
Things would never be fine. Not while mother was still looking over their shoulders. Now that she was looking for them again, Elliott knew there was no hope. Mother got whatever she wanted, always. She would get them in her clutches, Elliott knew this. There was nothing he could do to stop this.
Elliott threw himself on the ground and covered his face. Tears threatened to fall, but he kept himself in check as he breathed in and out. All he could think of was mother and her face, the narrowed eyes and the sneer on her lips. Her hand as she slapped him across the face.
Elliott couldn’t remember a time when mother wasn’t angry at him. Perhaps there wasn’t a time. He hated the thought that his mother had hated him from the moment he was born, but he was beginning to really believe this.
The sky was beginning to darken, and Elliott recognized this as the telltale sign of a thunderstorm. He should be heading back home, and back to school, but he had no urge to do so. Not when he knew Adrian was waiting to pounce and detention was waiting to suck the life out of him. He would rather the storm wash him away then head back home, to safety.
The first few rain drops hit his head and he remembered a time when his mother would let him take a shower. The few blissful times when she would allow him the luxury of washing the filth from his body. It was rare and very seldom, but those were the moments where Elliott believed things could get better. No, they would get better.
They never did.
Mother used to force him to bathe in ice cold water from a tin tub. He usually bathed outside, if it was warm enough. Sometimes even if it wasn’t. She saw this as a way to keep him pristine, as if the ice water would wash away all imperfections. It kept his skin pale, mother would say. It keeps his hair shiney, she would brag.
Elliott could remember the first shower he took after the long break from them. Mat was just a baby, and mother adored him. She also adored the fact that he could become a new torture tactic for Elliott.
Once, after Elliott had apparently acted out, she forced him to sit in a chair, took Mat’s diaper, and smashed it into his face. Elliott struggled to get free, but there was no stopping mother, there never was. After that incident, with Mat’s stool stuffed up Elliott’s nose and mouth, mother allowed him to shower. And this was only because mother was having company.
It wasn’t the best circumstances, but Elliott had long enjoyed the hot shower. It was the first of few, and each one he was granted would be treasured.
The rain that was now pouring down Elliott’s face reminded him of this. Of how cruel those ice bathes were, especially in the cold of the fall. He’d always wondered how his mother could be so cruel and evil. Was there ever a kind woman behind those eyes? Behind that awful sneer and that wicked laugh?
Elliott didn’t think so.
Someone grabbed Elliott’s arm roughly. “What are you doing here in the rain?”
Elliott’s eyes popped open and he looked over at Natasha and Brent. Natasha’s hair was dripping with water, and her face was concerned. Brent looked annoyed, but he remained quiet as he stood silently with his arms crossed over his chest. Elliott couldn’t seem to breathe now that they were here, in this space.
“Nothing. I’m doing nothing.” Elliott pulled from Natasha’s grip and yanked down his sleeve. “I needed some time to myself, that’s all.”
Natasha didn’t believe him for a moment. She saw the small boy in front of her and shook her head. There was something about Elliott that intrigued her, but she never wanted to think about it for very long. Perhaps it was his smooth, pale skin. Or his silky hair that always begged to be touched. Maybe it was his wide eyes, always taking in the world but giving nothing away.
There was something about his face that made her speechless. She loved Brent, but there was something about Elliott that called to her. Brent had a hard, rough face. His face was angular, his cheeks were covered in stubble, and his eyes were hard. He was tall, and muscular - the complete opposite of Elliott. Elliott was short, with a round face and porcelain smooth skin. He was like a doll, a true pretty boy. Everything Brent would never be.
Seeing Elliott in the rain only made her long to wrap her arms around him and keep him safe from whatever demons he was running from.
“You need to come back. Adrian is worried.” Brent muttered from behind Natasha. He was intrigued by Elliott, and he wanted to know what was happening, but not in the rain. He was already skipping class for the pretty boy, and he didn’t want to be late for practice. If there was practice. Brent looked up towards the dark sky, and saw no break in the rain clouds. He could suspect that practice would be cancelled.
“Adrian will be fine.” Elliott closed his eyes again and rejoiced in the feeling of the rain sliding down his skin. He was allowed showers with Anna, but this was different. This felt different.
Natasha looked at Brent, and sighed. She could tell her boyfriend wasn’t thrilled to be in the rain, but she needed to make sure Elliott was fine. She didn’t need to worry, but she did.
“Come on, Elliott. Let’s head home. We can talk on the way, if you’d like.”
Elliott shook his head. “No. I’m not leaving.” He wasn’t sure why he felt the need to be so stubborn, but he refused to leave. Besides, going back meant he’d have a reason to attend detention.
“You are. Now, come on.” Brent ordered from behind Natasha, and Elliott’s eyes popped open once again. Brent didn’t look like he was in the mood for discussion, so Elliott followed, his head cast downward and his tail between his legs. He couldn’t believe he was listening to Brent, of all people.
“Here’s a towel. Be careful not to ruin my leather seats.” Brent said as he held out a towel to Elliott.
The ride home was silent and awkward for Elliott. First, he didn’t want to be in the little car with the person who hated him and the girl who was too concerned about him for her own good. He wanted to be outside in the rain where he finally felt free.
When they rounded the corner onto his road, Natasha finally broke the silence. “So, Elliott. Want to tell us why you were in the rain?”
She was always so blunt, and it often filled Elliott with fear. She was going to find out, he could just tell. She was going to force her way into his head and steal all of his secrets.
Maybe he wanted her to do just that.
“I like the rain.” Was all he said on the matter.
“I’m not taking that bullshit answer. Why did you run from school?”
Elliott shook his head and looked out the window. How did the two of them even figure out that he’d left? Did Adrian tell them? Why did they care?
“Adrian and I had a dispute. Also, you just passed my house.”
Natasha rolled her eyes. “Well, yeah. I’m not dropping you off until I get answers.”
Elliott felt anger well up inside of him. He knew he shouldn’t have left with them. He knew better, but he did this anyway. Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, Elliott glared out the window. “What I do is none of your business.”
Natasha made a sound of disagreement. “Not true. We’re friends now. That means we talk to each other.”
Elliott barked out a laugh. “Being friends with someone means nothing. No one can be trusted, especially not you two. Brent hates me, why would I tell him anything? And you, Natasha. You’re one of the most popular girls in school and yet you’re talking to me and inviting me into your friend group. Why would you suddenly be interested in me, huh?”
That made the two go quiet for a moment. “I don’t hate you,” Brent muttered after a while, and Natasha huffed into the window. She was not happy Elliott didn’t accept their friendship. She hated that he was fighting it.
“Elliott, I want to be your friend. And friends talk to each other. I don’t understand why you’re being so secretive!”
Elliott had had enough. He unbuckled himself and without a second thought, he opened the door and jumped out, tucking his body into a ball as he hit the ground and rolled up to a standing position. He’d perfected that move after years of jumping from mother’s car.
Brent screeched to a stop, not believing his eyes as the pretty boy just jumped out of the car, tucked and rolled, and came to a stand completely unscatched. He threw the car in park and ran out of the car towards Elliott who was beginning to walk home.
Gripping his shoulder, Brent turned Elliott around. “Dude, what are you doing? You could have killed yourself!”
Elliott was already at the high point of exhaustion and annoyance. Add that to the amount of anger he felt, and Elliott was lethal.
“Let go of me and leave me alone.” He snarled, yanking out of Brent’s grip. “I’m not a charity case, and I don’t want to be your friend! You’ve done nothing but cause me pain!”
Brent stood there, dumbfounded and rendered silent. The pretty boy had a voice, and it wasn’t anything like he expected.
“Now, get back into your car and drive away and never look back, understand?” And with that, Elliott broke into a sprint, jumping over the fence of someone’s backyard and disappeared into the thunderstorm, leaving two confused teenagers standing together in the rain, trying to make sense of who Elliott really was.
ns 15.158.61.7da2
