Initials {31}

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                “Get away from my little sister,” he said dangerously. Eli slowly got off me and held up his hands in fear. “We weren’t doing anything bad,” he said.

                “You were making out with my fucking sister!” he exploded and charged at Eli. He grabbed him and slammed him against my wall. “Mickey stop!” I shrieked. He pulled back his fists and began to violently beat Eli.

                “MOM!” I screamed. “MOM!” I ran over and tried to get Mickey off Eli. Mickey just ignored me, focusing on hurting Eli.

                My parents burst into the room looking terrified. Their eyes widened and then my dad was tackling Mickey to the ground. I hurried over to Eli and gently knelt next to him.

                “Eli? Eli, are you okay?” I whispered. He groaned and tried to sit up. He crumpled back to the ground and gently clutched his quickly swelling wrist.

                “What is wrong with you?!” my dad screamed. “He was going to fuck Sam!” Mickey spat, glaring in hate at Eli. Dad froze and slowly turned to face me and Eli. “No he was not!” I snapped. “He kissed me Mickey. Grow the fuck up!”

                “Why’s his shirt off?” dad asked suspiciously. I blushed a little. “We weren’t going to have sex,” I assured him angrily. “I’m not a slut.”

                I turned back to Eli. “Is it broken?” I asked in worry. “I don’t know,” he said, trying to keep the pain out of his voice. Mom came over and inspected Eli’s wrist. She gasped and turned to dad and Mickey.

                “Get over here! Come look at his wrist!” Dad hurried over and carefully grabbed Eli’s arm. He inspected his swelling wrist and shook his head. “That’s bad.” He began to turn Eli’s arm to check the other side of his wrist. “No!” Eli cried desperately.

                But it was too late. Dad had turned his wrist over, revealing the deep scars. My eyes widened in absolute horror. Dad froze and mom gasped again and turned away. “What happened to your wrists?” dad asked shakily, knowing the answer.

                “I…cut them,” Eli squeaked, avoiding eye contact. Dad helped Eli up. “Does anything else hurt?” he asked quietly. “No sir. I’m fine,” he whispered. Dad nodded. “What’s your mother’s number?” I shot a look at Eli and saw the pain in his eyes.

                “She’s dead sir.” Dad got a guilty look in his eyes. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to…what about your father?” Eli shakily read off his dad’s number and my dad left the room. Mom was trying to calm Mickey down before he lunged at Eli again.

                A few minutes later, our doorbell rang and dad called us all out to the living room. We hesitated before going out there, seeing Mr. O’Dell.

                “Eli!” he cried in concern and hurried over to him. “Let me see your wrist.” Eli held it out. “Flip it over Eli,” his dad said quietly. Eli looked away and squeezed his eyes shut. He flipped his wrist over and his dad angrily grabbed it.

                Eli cried out in pain. “What the hell Eli?! What is this?!” his dad screamed, fake horror in his eyes. “Let go!” Eli begged desperately. “Let go of my wrist!” Mr. O’Dell released Eli’s wrist.

                “Why wouldn’t you come talk to me?” he whispered. His act was making me sick. Even if Eli had talked to him, he wouldn’t have done anything for him. “I was embarrassed,” Eli lied quietly.

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