The Skeletøn Bøy

ØNE

"The scariest thought in the world is that someday I'll wake up and realize I've been sleepwalking through my life: underappreciating the people I love, making the same hurtful mistakes over and over, a slave to neuroses, fear, and the habitual." -- George Saunders

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His voice trembled with fear as he pushed himself further into the wall. "Mother, please. Think about this."

His mother was fastly approaching, an end goal in sight. She wasn't about to give up everything she'd been working towards. She wasn't about to let her baby boy die so easily. She could almost taste the satisfaction in parading around the perfect son, with soon-to-come little brothers. Everyone would look at their family and realize how perfect everything was. She was sure of it.

"But my darling little Elliott, everything is fine. Everything will happen for a reason." She snipped the scissors in the air, the sound of the swoosh echoing in the basement. "Everything, I promise, will work out just fine.

Elliott awoke with a start, his breathing labored and his forehead coated in sweat. It was only a nightmare, but Elliott was always deeply affected by them. He could never forget his childhood, no matter how much he ran from it.

The smell of breakfast was assaulting his senses, and his stomach growled in protest. He'd skipped dinner last night in hopes of maintaining his look, but it was obvious that only drinking protein shakes wasn't enough.

After pulling on a shirt, Elliott padded downstairs and peeked into the kitchen. His brothers Adrian and Mat were already at the bar, eating the pancakes and bacon. The two of them seemed to have no problems with eating the fatty foods. Then again, he knew exactly what the fat could do in this situation. It would help hide.

"Elliott, this food is amazing! Mom is so good at cooking!" Mat exclaimed, waving his fork full of pancake in the air.

"Mom?" Elliott questioned, his voice thick with emotion. It brought back too many memories, too many horror stories.

"You know what I mean." Mat said sheepishly. Elliott knew he was too hard on him - Mat was only twelve. He deserved a mother who would treat him right, and their foster mother Anna was a good woman. However, Elliott could never quite say the word mother without having panic attacks. Adrian seemed to be the same, but Mat was young and forgiving.

"There you are!" Anna sang from behind Elliott. She placed her hands on his shoulders and pushed him into a seat, swinging around the bar to fix him a plate. "You've been scarce lately. You didn't even eat my meatloaf last night."

Anna loved to please her three new sons, but that wasn't always easy. She had to deal with two moody teens and a little boy who had attachment issues, but that didn't mean she didn't love them. She had never been so in love in her life, but she knew there was more to the boys than she could ever realize.

"Sorry," Elliott ducked his head. "I've been working out lately. Soccer tryouts are starting soon."

Anna loved her eldest foster child, but she could never understand him. He was always constantly concerned about his appearance, and wouldn't let her touch him. She did have rare moments, like when she had pushed him down, but she could never hug him, or any of them for that matter. They all hated being touched.

"You'll do fine. You're great at soccer." Elliott could only nod his head and hope that he would make the cut this year. He'd always been on the shorter and lankier side, and that got him in trouble most of the time. He tried and tried to build muscle, but he wasn't like the others. He was different.