Initials

Initials {25}

                Davey was in critical condition at the hospital. His chances of survival were incredibly low. The car had really done damage to him.

                His mom was in hysterics. Davey meant the world to her. We had sat in the waiting room for a while until a doctor came out and told us he wouldn’t be allowed visitors for a while.

                I had walked Sam home and was now arriving at my own house. I opened the door, expecting to get a punch in the face for staying out so late. Instead, I found my dad sitting quietly on the couch. He looked at me with cold eyes.

                They must have done a quick cover on the news. After all, the son of a murderer had just been hit by a car. I wondered if Davey’s father knew yet. Did they tell you that kind of stuff when you were in prison?

                If they had told his father…I felt bad for him. He was better off not knowing. Davey was everything to his dad. Davey was also everything to me. He was my best friend. Yea, he was a two faced bastard. But he had defended me and stuck by my side through all the shit.

                “How’s Davey?” dad asked, turning his attention to the news paper. “Bad,” I answered, my voice dead. “What will you do if he doesn’t make it out alive?” I snorted. “It’s not a matter of if. It’s a matter of when. He won’t make it out of this.”

                Dad glanced at me. “Go in your room. I can’t stand the sight of your face.” I wanted to go in my room. I wanted to go in there and slit my wrists. But that pain always numbed. I needed pain right now. I needed pain that would stay.

                “Fuck you,” I said coldly. He looked up, anger exploding in his eyes. “Excuse me?” he hissed. “I said: Fuck. You.” He shot up off the couch and stormed over to me. He grabbed my arm tightly. “Don’t piss me off you little shit!” he shrieked in my face.

                I glared at him and he punched me. He began to beat me violently as I swore at him. “I hate you!” I screamed. If I wanted to hurt, I just had to keep pissing him off. I screamed everything I had kept in my entire life.

                “I hate you so much!” I shouted. He threw me to the ground and began to kick me. A whimper escaped my lips. “You blame me for everything that goes wrong when it’s not my fault! I didn’t kill mom! You have problems!” I cried.

                “Shut up Eli! Just shut up!” he screamed and kicked me harder. I whimpered again and covered my head. He kicked at me more furious than ever. “You don’t know anything you little shit!” I felt bruises forming. I felt myself bleeding. I didn’t care. I hurt. That was the important thing.

                He slowly began to stop. “GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!” he roared, pointing at the door. “No!” I growled. He grabbed me by my hair and forced me to my feet. He dragged me to the front door and threw me outside. He slammed the door and I heard it lock.

                I slowly got to my feet. Everything hurt. It was wonderful. I would need a place to stay tonight. Michael’s was out of the question and I couldn’t stay at the Caroli’s house.

                I limped all the way to Sam’s house and knocked on the door. Mickey answered and his eyes widened in shock. “Oh my god!” he cried. “Is Sam here?” I asked. “Yea, yea she is.” He awkwardly helped me limp into the house and took off to get Sam.        

                They came back down and Sam gasped and ran over to me. She helped me up to her room and sat me on her bed. “Oh gosh Eli. What happened?” she whispered. “I’ll get ganged up on a lot now that Davey’s gone.” She winced. “He’s not gone Eli. He’s alive.” I shook my head and grimaced. “He won’t make it. He’s really hurt Sam. You saw him.”

                She wrapped her arms around me and I couldn’t help but hug her back. I needed to hold someone right now. She buried her face in my chest and I gently stroked her hair.

                We sat like that for a while before I decided to just make my way back home.

                                                                                ***Sam’s POV***

                “Oh shoot!” I cried, picking up Eli’s cell phone. He must have left it here. “Mickey, I’m going to go bring Eli his cell phone,” I called. I slipped on my shoes and left the house.

                The frightful image of Davey’s broken body was haunting my thoughts. No one deserved that, not even him. His poor mom. She couldn’t stop sobbing.

                I made my way to Eli’s house and could hear slight yelling coming from inside. I quietly snuck over to a window showing his living room and peeked through. My eyes widened in horror and Eli’s phone slipped from my hand.

                His father was violently beating him on the ground.