Elijah is a young boy that has been born and raised in a neglectful and abusive household. With his biological mother, Eliza, and his stepfather Paw.
His mother was severely mentally ill and Paw was a raging alcoholic, scarring the young child's min...
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"You look just like her."
Dr. Patrick's comment makes my heart sink. I'm aware that I look exactly like my mother, quite literally a smaller copy of her. We have the same eyes, the same nose, even the same smile.
I hate it! I don't want to be compared to her, I don't want to be like ma! Every time I look at my reflection in a mirror, I see her. I see her face and I'm overflowed with so much guilt.
How can these people look at me with such tenderness? If they knew how rotten I truly was inside... would they still have it in their hearts to forgive me...? Would they still look at me or treat me the same? I'm afraid of what would change if they were to find out about all that has happened in my sixteen years of living with ma and Paw.
'How would they react to all of it? Realising that their new brother is completely broken and messed up inside. Is this how I repay them? After everything they did for me... I'm the worst.'
"...so stupid." That last part, unexpectedly, was said out loud. Shocking both myself and the adults around me.
"What?-" My eyes widen as the realisation kicks in. We're already inside of the house, it's spacious and very well decorated. We were making our way to -I think- the room where I'd be getting checked-up, while Dr. Patrick was babbling on about some complicated subject. But my mumble made us all come to a stop.
Miguel looks down at me with a furrowed face, irritated but clearly dumbfounded as well. My body seems to freeze in fear as we make eye contact. "Apologise to Patrick, Elijah." He demands. "That was extremely rude. Where did you even learn to act like that from?" I start to tremble, finding the clean wooden floor way more interesting. 'I'm such an idiot...! How could I say that out loud?'
"I-I... I didn't mean it like... I m-mean-" I stumble and stutter with my words, trying my best to explain the misunderstanding and get the truth out. "I don't want to hear excuses. Just- just apologise, for the love of god!" My brother sighs in between sentences. Raising his voice at the end, with a frustrated tone.
In an instant, I step back. Wanting to be away from him in case my brother had the same tendencies of getting violent when angry. "I'm really sorry, sir!" I apologise just as fast, clenching my hands together with even more force. I can feel my fingernails dig into my skin, grounding me in the present.
The title came out, out of habit. A rule that was set by Paw as I grew up back at the house. I wasn't allowed to refer to him as 'Paw' nor as 'Jones', as my mother called him. He insisted that anything other than sir was disrespectful and I would get punished if I were to make that sort of mistake.
Everyone fell silent for a good minute, even Miguel. Making me feel sick, as if something was swirling around in my stomach. I was getting more and more nervous. Until, thankfully, somebody broke that silence. "It ain't a big deal boys! This old man here tends to ramble way too much. Haha." Doctor Patrick spoke, trying to ease the sharp tension around us by belittling the current situation. The palms of my hands now drenched in sweat.
