The Skeletøn Bøy

FØURTY-TWØ

Fear built up in Elliott's chest at those words. Dead. She didn't want to think about Adrian and Mat dead. She didn't want to think about Anna on the floor, eyes open with blood spilling out of her. And Brent. Elliott really didn't want to think about that. It made her sick to her stomach to imagine him lifeless.

"I'm not a boy, Mother. I'm a girl." Elliott pulled back, slapping Mother across the face. She took of her knee length basketball shorts, throwing them on the ground. She left the leggings on. She struggled out of the long sleeved underarmor shirt, then threw that on the floor next tot the shorts. She reached under her shirt, yanking the tight fabric from her chest. The fabric she had worn for years to keep her secret unknown. The normal, short sleeved shirt she left on, leaving her tattoos on display.

Mother gaped at her, angered by the action. "You are a boy! Act like one!" Mother screeched, reaching for her. Elliott dodged her, reaching into the closet, her hand wrapping around the closest whip. The toddler strapped to the chair was crying. The baby as well. But, Elliott blocked all of that out at she stared at Mother, the hatred building. All these years, I've been pretending. I've been forced to be a boy. I've been abused, neglected, yanked around. But not anymore.

Mother took a step closer. "Elliott, whip that child, or I'll do it."

Elliott cast a glance at the child in the chair. The familiar flare of need ran through her, but it was unwanted. Elliott was past this, past this abusive stage. She refused to become who her mother was.

The strange urge to whip the crying child was strong and apparent, but Elliott was stronger. She turned away from the child, and brought the whip down on Mother. The blow sent the woman gasping and staggering back. Mother's eyes narrowed at Elliott, surprised, but pleasantly enjoying it.

"Didn't that feel good, my little skeleton boy?" Mother cooed, her eyes alight with pride. Pride that her child was falling into the same patterns.

"I hate you so much!" Elliott screamed, bringing the whip back down. She shoved Mother after the crack of the whip, sending her crashing to the ground. Satisfied, Elliott turned towards the child on the chair.

"I'm letting you go, but you must stay in this room. I don't know who's waiting outside." She said urgently to the sobbing toddler.

"Bren Bren! Where is he?" The child cried, clearly panicked and afraid. It made Elliott's heart shatter into pieces, because she knew exactly where Brent was. And she knew that Brent wouldn't be saving him.

"I don't know, but we'll get you home safe and sound." Elliott promised, unbuckling the child. The moment Eric was free, he leaped from the torture chair. He was shaking, and afraid, and immediately reached for the baby.The action reminded Elliott of herself as a child, holding onto Adrian. It further made her heart ache as she watched the children and ushered them into the closet. Then, she faced Mother, who was smiling wickedly.

"Reminds me of when you were a child. Always so protective, aren't you Elliott."

Elliott clenched her hands into fists. She noticed the whip in Mother's hands, and knew what was about to go down. It was her against the master of abuse, and Elliott wasn't so sure she would prevail.

It didn't matter, though. Elliott was about to finish this once and for all. Every single memory of Mother abusing her flashed through her head. Every single blow, every single wave of abuse, every single hate act. Mat's diaper being smashed into Elliott's face. Having to bath in boiling hot water. Having to bath in ice water.

Having to starve to keep her siblings alive. Having to take the abuse from her siblings. Having to suffer everything, all of Adrian and Mat.

She wouldn't take any of it back. It had always been about them. But, now it was about her, and keeping herself alive. And Elliott wasn't about to back down. She couldn't save them now, but she could end Mother.

She had done all she could for Adrian and Mat. And it killed her inside to think of them as dead, all because of her. But, Elliott would have plenty of time to think about that later.

"Let's get this over with, Mother. I'm taking you down, once and for all."

"Yes, my little skeleton boy. Let us finish this."

And with that, Elliott tightened her grip on the whip, and let her urges take over. It was time to win.

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