Exploding at Brent and Natasha felt good, but now Elliott was paying the price. Guilt was eating at him all afternoon during work. Not even Wes could make the guilt go away.
“Elliott, you have to let it go. So you yelled at them. Just apologize.” Wes was nearly perfect in every way, and Elliott was jealous. When people looked at Wes, they saw a man. When people looked at Elliott, they saw a weak, pretty boy. Nothing more.
“It isn’t that easy, Wes.” Elliott was annoyed that Wes, a boy who he’d just met, was giving him advice on how to live his life. Elliott needed the advice, but he was too proud to admit it. Far too proud to even begin to acknowledge that he needed it.
“Sure it is.” Wes patted his head and turned back to the counter. Elliott had begun to grow on him. There was something about him that made Wes smile. Wes had never had many friends growing up, mostly because he dedicated all his free time to the farm and the shop. This resulted in him never having time for friends, and having Elliott by his side was a refreshing change. Even if Elliott was a moody teenage boy who had no muscle on him and was as thin as a beanpole. Not the ideal worker for a farm, but Wes wouldn’t have it any other way.
Elliott spent the next few moments ringing up customers in silence. Wes was right, and Elliott hated that he was. But, there was also something about Wes that Elliott couldn’t hate. He was too nice and too open to hate, but Elliott didn’t want to like him. Liking him meant more room for hurt, and a greater chance that his secret could be exposed. Friends had always been a huge no-no, according to mother.
“If you want, we baked extra cookies. You can have one after work.” Wes was trying to play peace keeper. He liked Elliott, but he knew how Elliott felt about him. Just seeing how Elliott had reacted to seeing him that first day had indicated how Elliott felt. He was afraid. He was hiding something, and trying his hardest to protect himself. Wes wanted him to trust him so much. He wanted to see Elliott smile.
“Maybe I’ll take you up on that offer.” Was all Elliott could manage as his hands worked to calculate the customer’s price on the calculator. It was hard for Elliott to memorize all the prices - there was no scanner. It was a local shop selling produce, and every price had to be memorized. Not easy, but not entirely impossible. All the prices were around the shop.
“Your brother was in here earlier,” Wes added after he was finished with a customer. He leaned lazily against the counter and raised an eyebrow at Elliott. “He was looking for you.”
Elliott shook his head - not this again. “It’s nothing, I’ll talk to him later.”
Wes shook his head. “Family is important, Elliott. If you let this problem simmer, it’ll tear you two apart.”
Elliott fought to breathe. “If family was so important, my mother wouldn’t have made me this way!” Elliott let his hands dig in his hair as he clutched his head. “She wouldn’t have done all of those things. She would have loved me like she was supposed to. She wouldn’t have killed him. If family was so important, he would still be alive!”
Before Wes could even comment, Elliott was gone. He’d run from the little shop, and didn’t stop. He hated running from his problems this way, but there was nothing he could do to make himself stop. The burn in his lungs and the pain in his legs wasn’t enough to make him stop racing down the road, into the woods.
If mother thought family was important, he would still be alive. He wouldn’t be gone, wouldn’t be ten feet underground.
Elliott wouldn’t have had to pull the trigger.
Family wasn’t important, not to Elliott. Family was a hoax. Family was a no good lie that people made up to make others feel worse about themselves. No one cared, not really. Sure, Elliott cared a lot for his brothers, but they didn’t care about him. Not like he had cared for them. It was partly their fault he was so damaged. They never took away his punishments - he’d always taken theirs away.
Elliott had done so much to save his brothers, but they had never, not once, tried to save him.
Elliott’s clothes were getting snagged by branches, but that didn’t stop him. He tore through the forest, hoping that the faster he ran, the closer to freedom he would be. But he knew better than to feel this way.
Mother was behind him. Her laugh echoed through the trees, reaching him no matter how fast he ran. This was a game to her - it always was. If he could make it out of the woods before mother reached him, he would be safe. He would have freedom. He would be allowed to be the person he’d always wanted to be.
Of course, the game was rigged. Elliott ran as fast as he could, ignoring the scratches the trees graced him with. His lungs were on fire, and he was sure they would collapse, like his legs. This didn’t stop him. He was determined to make it out of the woods.
“Elliott, darling, you will never escape.” Mother was closer to him than he thought. He could practically feel her breath on his neck, despite the fact that he knew she wasn’t that close. He knew what happened when mother caught him. She would drag him back to the house, a smile on her face, and break his toes. All of them. Usually, she stopped there, because she knew if she broke anything else, should would be caught.
However, it was summer. And Elliott knew that meant she could afford breaking one of his ankles, or perhaps his leg. He didn’t have to go to school, and he didn’t have any obligations for another three months. Mother could do everything she wanted to him, and no one would know.
It was supposed to be symbolic - if she caught him, she’d make it so he couldn’t run again. This was always one of her favorite games. Elliott knew the pain that would ensure if he didn’t make it out. The memory of the pain made him run faster.
Mary watched her son run. She enjoyed this game very much. She enjoyed the sight of him panicking and crying. He deserved it for being anything less than perfect. The perfect son would make it out in time. The perfect son wouldn’t cry and beg for forgiveness.
Elliott needed to be taught a lesson, and Mary loved this one. She loved it when other mother’s looked at his broken leg and gave her looks of warmth. They thought she was brave for mothering three boys. They thought she was a great mother for taking such good care of them, especially when they were so accident prone.
Elliott could see the break in the trees. He could see the opening, and his heart soared. He could make it if he ran fast enough. He could make it.
He quickened his pace, ignoring the loud thumping of his heart and the pain in his legs. He pushed forward, a smile breaking on his face as he imagined a life with freedom. Mother would respect him. Mother would let him be, and he would finally be able to do anything he wanted. He could practically taste the freedom on his lips, and it tasted better than any food he’d ever eaten. It tasted better than the first taste of food after being starved.
His legs pushed, his smile widened, and his arms pumped harder. He was there, he was free. Just one more push -
Elliott stumbled out of the forest and tripped, falling onto the grass. His heart raced and his legs protested in pain. He half expected to see mother behind him, gracing him with a wide smile and words of praise. That was all he wanted - that was all he’d ever wanted. But, mother wasn’t there. And he knew she wouldn’t, because if she was, he would have never made it out unscathed. He’d never, ever beat that game. She’d always grab him right before breaking out of the trees, and she’d drag him back where she’d tie him to that chair and break his bones one by one.
Elliott felt a dull pain in his toes as he remembered. The fear that mother was shortly behind had him standing and walking away from the trees, backwards, never taking his gaze off of the dark forest behind him.
If mother knew he’d escaped, she’d be furious. Somewhere, she knew he’d escaped. And she was coming for him, for all of them, and she’d make sure she broke more than toes. She’d break every bone in his body if that meant he never escaped again.
ns 15.158.61.6da2
