New Life...New Clothes

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It takes less than five minutes to realize that even though Eli towers over her by a good seven inches, mom is a force to be reckoned with and all too willing to take him down an inch or seven. 

It would be in your best interest not to cross her - ever.

Unfortunately for Eli, he never got this particular memo - and is paying for it dearly with a designer purse slammed against his forehead with lethal force while she curses him out in the most furious Polish you've ever heard of in your life.

Ow.

You've never heard him swear to profusely - you've never heard him speak Polish either.  You've also never seem him cower, nor have you seen him being beaten into a pulp.

Eli's the one usually given the beatings.  The hard punch he gave to Gabriel at the train station comes to mind.

Now, you can see where he gets it from.

"Have I taught you nothing?" she cries angrily.  The flurry of blows to the head never ceases.  "You've lived in this loft for how long and you've done nothing with?  And even worse, you brought a respectable girl into this veritable slum?  I raised you better than this!"

"It's not a slum!  It's just unfur-OW!!"  You wince as Eli takes a haymaker to the face, crashing onto the floor with a sickening thud.  "Fuck!"

"Don't you talk back to me, boy!  I'm your mother and you will take this beating like a man!"  The blows keep on coming.  "You better be glad that this is the only thing I'm doing to you.  You don't call me!  You never return my calls!  You let me worry about you all the time, you selfish brat!  You better be thankful that I'm not trying to kill you!"

"You could have fooled me-GOD DAMN IT!"

With an angry cry, Eli's mother gives him one last knock to head, effectively silencing him.  Her breathing is shallow, and moisture has collected along her brow.  She smoothes a few errant red hairs into place, and smoothes out her expensive-looking black pantsuit.  Her eyes never leave Eli, who remains motionless on the ground, obviously in a not of pain.  Her expression in nothing short of fierce.

"Eliasz Szymańska, I am your mother, and I demand that get that through your thick skull.  I don't ask very much of you, and I'm certainly not a helicopter parent.  I've allowed you to live your life your own way for many years now, even though I can't understand some of the choices you've made.  But I've put up with it anyway because I love you.  But I am sick of you taking me for granted!  If I am going to continue to help you, you need to start calling me or texting me or something!  Otherwise, I'll just come back and beat the hell out of you some more."

"Oh, well isn't that fucking lovely?" Eli spits out.  "I rescue her from getting her ass kicked just so I could get my ass kicked.  Fuckin ahh."

"And watch your mouth!  You're not a sailor, so don't swear like one!  Or do I need to wash out your mouth with soap?"

Eli mutters a few unfamiliar words - presumably Polish words that translated would make your eyes bulge out.  All the while, you stand there watching for a few feet away.  This is very awkward - very awkward, like a daytime talk show come to life before your eyes.  The subject matter is trashy, lewd, and downright messed up, yet you can't take your eyes off of it.  Secretly, you are amused by how his mother handles him, and you're pretty sure that no one else has to power to set him straight like this.

Still, you remind yourself to never anger her, and you set yourself to defense mode just in case. 

Eli's mother finally takes notice of your presence - and the biggest, brightest grin spreads across her smooth but mature face.  Tension twists a pretzel within your stomach before it finally gives way to the pressure.  Even as you give her the biggest smile you can muster (which is more of a grimace than a smile), you can't help but feel like you should flee, even though Eli has forbid you to more than once.

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