"You told me to learn to live without you but you taught me how to get through life with you!"
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Since the day you could remember, eli had been your one and only. The only person you'd need to put a smile on your face, the only person you'd know cou...
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'Oh, baby, where are you now when I need you most?' •After Hours ~ The Weeknd•
The thing you and Miguel so desperately needed to attend to was nothing but a total waste of time. A pathetic washout consisting of the three people you knew of - Miguel, Sam and Demitri, and the rest where anonymous faces you'd like to say you'd seen in a crowd. Talking nonsense about what it felt to be hours on end karate, whether that be disagreeing or agreeing with one another, you couldn't help but think about a face that wasn't there.
What Miguel said. What Eli said. What he did, even. Everything was so up in the air, and to think that Miguel expected you to sit there on the Larrussos dining table patiently waiting for the answer that he was taking ever so long to get to you, while also talking rubbish about Eli's dojo, he had another thing coming. Although you weren't supporting anything about what that monstrosity of a dojo created - raining havoc across a town where people would once take pride on visiting and needles to say the many hospital bills they weren't held accountable for from enemies of students. They where all brainwashed. Couldn't they see?
It was written out in front of them, clearly like white ink on a black sealed parchment. They just didn't seem to wrap their heads around it. None of them. And it took you the months that you'd been here, less than them of course, to realise it straight away. Deep down they would know that Eli wouldn't do such a thing as fight just to hurt people for fun, he wouldn't ruin friendships he'd earn the trust of for years on end just to make them worship the grounds he walked on, they had to. Because he wasn't, there was always a prize involved. With not just him, but anyone.
Like your own Mother. When it came to those nights where you'd wake up to heart-plummeting shouting between her 'promised' other half beneath the four walls of your once peaceful room, it was always nice to think that if you took the time to go downstairs and show your face the shouting would automatically stop. Because who would want to shout and fight in front of their little girl, right? Who would want to show the side of them they'd promise to hide away since the day your little face came to view and changed their life? But your Mom never stopped, in fact she'd continue growing stronger, hitting harder as she saw you cast your shadow weaker as you came to light through the doorway.
You never seemed to get it at first. Surely your Father was stronger. You'd think. Surely if he needed to, he'd fight back. You'd think. And the more you thought the more the little waves of one thought pushed another out of the way. Because he never fought back and he never tried to stop it. Now thinking back, it was as if he where her punching bag - if anything topped up to another breaking point, she'd take it out on him. Stress relieving, maybe. Not necessarily by punches, but even when throwing dishes or slapping faces, she'd still be a much calmer person afterwards. And still he never said anything.
But one day she took that all for granted. Not getting any sort of reaction or pain anymore form your Father to somewhat say he began to think it was a normal occurrence now. She'd get angry, he'd try to reason, she'd get angrier, he'd apologise and then she'd hit him. And again. And again. But showing your face this time wasn't stopped with a "Go back to bed Alexandra". Nor a goodnight story full of midnight dreams and wonders and simple kiss on the forehead from your dad. Because this time your Mother had hit you.
