Initials

Initials {32}

                                                                                ***Eli’s POV***

                I was tugging on my hair so hard it hurt. “Calm down before you yank your hair out,” Davey grumbled as he read a book on his couch.

                “You don’t get it!” I screamed, my control gone. “I want to die Davey! I want to fucking die!” I wanted to hang from a noose. I wanted to blast my brains against the wall. I wanted to slit my wrists until there was no blood left.

                “And I don’t?” he asked in annoyance. “You get abused. Your mom died. Big deal.” I glared at him in disgust. He turned the page of his book.

                “My dad’s in a living hell for the rest of his life. My uncle beat the shit out of me every day. Broke my bones. You and my mom are the only people who actually like me. And half the time, you want me dead. Big deal. Life sucks and you move on.”

                “I don’t want you dead,” I argued and sat down on the floor. He rolled his eyes. “Yea you do. Don’t lie. But that’s not the point.”

                I felt so hopeless right now. “Than what’s the point? Huh? What’s the point of going on when things aren’t getting better?” I asked desperately. Davey shrugged. “I don’t fucking know. I’m not a prophet or anything.”

                Davey’s mom entered the room with Sam following behind her. “She’s here to see you Eli,” Mrs. O’Dell said with a gentle smile. Davey didn’t even look up from his book. “Get out of my house Eli. I don’t want you here,” he said.

                Sighing, I stood up and led Sam out of the O’Dell’s house.

                Sam flung herself into my arms as soon as we were outside. I held her tightly and kissed her deeply. “I love you so much Eli,” she whispered, pulling me even closer. “I love you too Sam,” I whispered.

                My dad was going to kill me when I got home. I didn’t even care. I had Sam in my arms and that was all that mattered to me. Eli, the infamous bad boy, had fallen in love. With her in my arms, the thoughts of suicide disappeared into the back of my mind. The cuts on my wrists were forgotten.

                Your happiness. That’s all I want Eli. Nothing would make me happier.

                My mom had said that to me once. I had asked what she wanted for mother’s day when I was 11. I had been sad that week because our dog Quincy had died.

                And I wondered, not for the first time, if she was watching me now. Smiling because I was finally happy. Sad because she couldn’t be there to congratulate me or meet Sam.

                Happy mother’s day mom. It’s a little late, but late is better than never.

                I leaned down and kissed Sam again, willing her to know just how much I had come to love her. We had been through so much and I was so happy to just have her here in my arms. I could carry on with life. I could live if I had her with me.

                She rested her head on my chest and I smiled softly as I stroked her hair. This was it. This was the happiness I needed. This was life. This was the girl that could change me. The girl that had changed me.

                The girl I wanted to be with for the rest of my life.

                Samantha Donovan.