The Skeletøn Bøy

FIFTEEN

"To run away from trouble is a form of cowardice and, while it is true that the suicide braves death, he does it not for some noble object but to escape some ill" -- Aristotle

++ C H A P T E R | F I F T E E N ++

Elliott's hands played with the knife in front of him. His mind was whirling, and he could hear the demons laughing at him from inside his head.

Kill yourself, skeleton boy. That is the only way you'll be free! They cackled. And Elliott began to believe them. The only way he'd be free from mother would to kill himself. It would save his brothers. Mother didn't want them - she wanted him. It had always been that way. She could care less about Adrian and Mat.

She wanted him. But, she couldn't have him if he killed himself.

She'd been inside the house, and made his bed. She could have killed Adrian or Mat. She could have killed Anna.

But no. She'd gone out of her way to torture Elliott through a note. She was playing with him, like a predator plays with its prey before finally going in for the kill. And Elliott would be damned if he let her play with her food.

He spun the knife, the light from the kitchen catching it. Elliott felt mesmerized by it. Kill, kill, kill the demons began to chant.

It was nearly three in the morning. No one was awake. No one would ever stop him.

Elliott brought the knife up, staring at it. One swipe across the neck would do it. But, Elliott was raised by mother, after all. And even he knew that was too painless. Elliott wanted to feel the pain. He wanted it so suddenly, it made him sick.

Elliott was just like mother. Adrian knew it. Mother knew it.

Elliott was determined to end his life before he became just like her. Before he became the monster mother wanted him to be.

In the bathtub, quick quick quick! Your blood will make the water thick! Lock the door, lock the door, that is when you'll truly soar! Even if they hear you shout, no one will be able to help you out! End your life, bring the pain, stop mother from playing this game!

The demons were relentless. They were persuasive. And Elliott was only human.

He brought the knife with him as he climbed the stairs. The demons chanted their song in his head on repeat, louder than his own thoughts. They drowned everything, every feeling, every regret, every logical thought.

Elliott locked the bathroom door. He left his clothes on and got into the tub, robotically. The demons were louder, now. Screaming. Luring him under their spell. Elliott turned the knob, and water came rushing out. Cold, at first, but then hot hot hot.

Elliott couldn't feel the pain. He was numb. He leaned his head against the tub, shut his eyes, and brought the knife up.

End your life, bring the pain, stop mother from playing this game!

End your life, bring the pain, stop mother from playing this game!

End your life, bring the pain, stop mother from playing this game!

* * *

Earlier that night, Natasha blew out a sigh as she sat in the front of Brent's car. She was growing impatient as she waited for her boyfriend to come out of his house. She could hear the cries from his new sister, and the yells from Eric, his brother. The sounds annoyed her to no end - it was why she was waiting in the car.