Schatzi

11

An: hallo, just wanted to say thank you for 100 reads! This is probably my least cringey book so far (not fanfic whoop whoop. That damn college au haunts me). I love getting feedback and comments from you so pls vote or comment on chapters if you liked them or give any constructive criticism ❤️❤️ I'm kinda proud of this story and if you're enjoying it, it would mean the world if you'd recommend it to someone else you think might like it. Thank you for reading! Love ya 🤙

Eli flicked his curls out of his eyes, his hands preoccupied with washing the large pile of clothes next to the basin. He was trying to help his mum get through the huge amounts of work she was having to do to get by these days. It was a lot and she was busy all the time, so he'd agree to do some of the work while she did something for herself for once.

He looked down when he felt something brush against his leg and saw his dog, Willow, standing at his feet, her wagging tail hitting his ankle. She'd been a great help since he'd moved in with Peter. They'd been training her, and she was so good at everything they tried. She'd even started picking up on his moods. She could tell when he was upset or when he was about to have one of his weird...episodes, where he just panicked for seemingly no reason, and she warned him. She'd helped him a lot, and so had Peter.

He still didn't know why it happened. He'd been trying to figure it out but with no luck. He knew going to a doctor would be the normal thing to do, but things weren't normal. Bad things would happen if people knew about those problems.

Sometimes it crept up on him and he didn't know why, but sometimes there were patterns, specific things that set him off. Like when Peter raised his voice when they argued. He couldn't remember the last time they actually sorted out whatever it was they were arguing about because he'd break down and Peter would have to comfort him. He also couldn't stand small spaces. Or when it was crowded outside. He hated it. It stirred something up in him and he couldn't suppress it, try as he might to keep it together.

He hated not knowing what was wrong with him. He knew he was crazy, but he wanted to know specifically what was wrong, and what was causing it. The breakdowns, the nightmares, the strange empty feeling that overwhelmed him. He just wanted answers.

He didn't know how long passed. He was working silently, completely lost in his thoughts.

He was dragged from his daydreams when he heard the key in the lock. As soon as he heard the door open, he knew something was off. There were two voices. And he definitely recognised them both. One was his mother, the other terrified him more than anything else in the world. Footsteps. He recognised them too. That specific rhythm that creaked on the floorboards as he approached his childhood bedroom.

He'd always be tempted to hide.

The dog was barking.

He'd always seen his dad as the villain from the stories he was told. But he was real. Not fictional. He didn't go away with the wave of a magic wand. He was there for good, and even now apparently, 5 years later, he was coming back to haunt him.

He thought he'd banished him from the kingdom for good. Well, his mum had. She'd always been the fairy princess in the stories. Sadly though good didn't always win out in the end.

The dog was barking.

She was standing next to him, apparently unafraid. The fairy princess and the evil sorcerer. And him, he was no one. He didn't have a character to hide behind as an extended metaphor of childhood. He had nothing.

He was nothing

~~~~~~

"Nothing!" His dad yelled, shoving him against the wall, immediately back up in his face again.
"You're nothing! You hear me? Nothing!"