The Skeletøn Bøy

TWENTY-THREE

Dedication goes to FallingStars13 for the AMAZING banner!! Thanks so much! <3<3<3

"Pain and suffering are always inevitable for a large intelligence and a deep heart." ― Fyodor Dostoyevsky

++ C H A P T E R | T W E N T Y -  T H R E E  ++

"Love. You don't need love, my dear Elliott. You only need me." Mother scoffed as she ran her fingers through Elliott's hair.

"I don't understand why they left." Elliott shook with fear. Fear of Mother. Fear for never being loved. Never being wanted.

"They don't need you or me, Elliott. We only need each other. Now, come. I have a gift for you."

Elliott followed Mother obediently into the basement. Into the torcher chamber. Usually, he never followed willingly, but the sting of being abandoned was making him numb. He wanted loved. Even if that came from Mother's beatings.

Instead of strapping him to the chair, there was someone already there. It was a lifesized toy doll. Elliott was confused, so confused, but Mother didn't answer his questions. Instead, she placed one of her favorite whips in his tiny, shaking hands.

"This is how we love, darling. Pain is how we love."

Elliott was still confused. He wanted to know why she wasn't hurting him. He wanted to know why she had a toy doll in the seat and her favorite whip was in his hands.

"Well, I'm not waiting all day. Whip the toy, Elliott."

Elliott didn't understand why. Didn't really want to know why, either. He pretty much already knew the answer, and was so afraid to say no so he whipped the doll. It was just a doll, anyway. Whip after whip, Elliott let out his anger and frustration of being abandoned and whipped harder. He almost wished the doll could talk so he could know if he was doing it right. He at least wanted the satisfaction of his pain being realized.

"Okay, Elliott darling. Enough of that. You're a natural." Mother beamed. "Next time, there will be different subjects. Maybe even real ones, if you're behaved."

Elliott handed back the whip, dazed She hadn't hurt him. She hadn't touched him. He wasn't sure what that meant. Maybe it meant she did love him.

Maybe she was right. Maybe this was how love was. Painful. Intense. Demanding to be felt, like a whip to the skin.

Elliott didn't know. But, he wanted to be loved. And he wanted to love. Even if that meant holding a whip in his hands.

Elliott wanted to skip school, but he knew better. So, he forced himself to walk to school and sit through class. He forced himself not to cry, not to show any emotion, even though he wanted to.

Adrian was right. No one would ever want to love him. Only Mother. Elliott could feel his heart beating wildly as he remembered holding a whip, swinging it down on the dolls. Eventually on pets. Mother had promised a real person for a subject, but it never got that far.

Elliott wasn't sure if he had been glad or disappointed.

Mother was right. Love was pain. Sure, Elliott knew what Mother had done to them was wrong and dangerous, but being away from her made him long for the pain. To be noticed. To be loved.

Elliott shook his head. This was crazy - he wasn't supposed to miss mother, but he did. Adrian was right. He was just like Mother.

"Elliott, are you alright?" Natasha poked a finger against his forehead, and Elliott reeled back, giving her a deer in the headlights look. He was annoyed with her, even though she'd been nothing but nice. It was how she acted around Wes that bothered him. With her whiny voice and those batted eyelashes. It drove him mad.