Initials

Initials {13}

Davey and I left the movie a few minutes early to go smoke. It was a terribly fake movie. A disappointment really. I lit up and took a long drag.

Brad and Sam came out a few minutes later. I grinned and walked over to them. “Why hello there. Fancy meeting you two here!” Brad glared. “You’re lucky I don’t beat you with your own crutches.” I chuckled and turned to Sam.

She blushed and hid her face with her hair shyly. Damn she was such a tease! I brushed her hair away. “Don’t do that,” I whispered. Brad shoved me and I stumbled and fell on my ass.

Davey watched calmly as he smoked. He wouldn’t jump in unless I needed it. “Are you alright?!” Sam asked in concern. “Who cares if he is?” Brad snapped.

I clumsily got to my feet and positioned myself on the crutches, anger coursing through me as I glared at Brad. Fucker was going down.

Ignoring the pain, I launched myself onto him and we fell to the ground.

I punched him as hard as I could. Sam was desperately begging us to stop. I didn’t care though. I just wanted him to shut up.

“ELI MASON O’DELL!”

My eyes widened and I stopped hitting Brad. Brad took a cheap shot and caught me in the face. I crashed off of him, the pain barely registering. I was dragged to my feet and roughly pulled away from Brad. I desperately held back screams of agony. My ankle throbbed violently.

Dad glared at me and then turned to Brad. A few people had gathered around. “Are you alright?” he asked, that fake concern making me feel sick. Brad got up, stepping on my cigarette. “You cock sucking bastard,” he growled.

Sam grabbed his hand, making me even angrier. “Brad, let’s go,” she begged. “I hope you fucking die O’Dell!” Brad yelled before he stormed off with MY girl.

Dad grabbed my arm and dragged me towards the car. “You are in so much trouble young man!” he said sternly as people still watched. Davey grabbed the crutches and followed dad to the car.

We got in and dad began to drive. It was an awkward silence. Dad dropped Davey off at his house before starting the car again.

He still didn’t speak. Just remained silent. He pulled into the driveway and watched me limp inside on Davey’s crutches. I limped towards my room.

“Eli.”

Shit.

I turned to face him and he sighed, looking at me and shaking his head. “Can’t you please behave?” “I’m sorry sir,” I said weakly. He ruffled my hair and gave me a small smile.

His fist shot out and my head smacked into the wall. I shakily crumbled to the ground. He grabbed me by my hair and forced me to stand on my bad ankle. “You pathetic little shit!” he boomed and punched me in the stomach. I choked as he dragged me to the basement. He threw the door open and pulled me downstairs. That was a relief. Last time, he had shoved me down the stairs.

“You shit!” he yelled and shoved me to the ground and began to kick me as hard as he could. I forced back screams and tears. “You’re weak! You little shit! You shame! Look at you! Your mother would be ashamed!” he screamed.

He grabbed me by my arm and dragged me to a pole that supported the basement ceiling. Shit, shit, shit. He forced my to take my shirt off and then handcuffed my right wrist to the pole. He forced my jeans off. “You little shit!” he roared. He spit on me, stormed up the stairs, and shut the lights off.

The door slammed and I shivered. The basement was freezing and sometimes had mice in it. He did this to me when he was really angry.

Imagine if anyone saw.

Eli O’Dell, the tough emo, reduced to sitting in his boxers handcuffed to a pole in the dark.

Well, since I had the time, I began to daydream about Sam. She seemed so in to Brad. How could I get her to be with me?

I smirked, having a great idea. I knew how to get her to like me.