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The pastor speaks a few more words before asking if the family would like to say anything. I look up to Elliot, still grasping his hand in mine. He shakes his head. The pastor continues with a closing prayer. Elliot finally looks up to my face, an expression of sadness but love, and then sees the man standing behind us.
The man I know and love so well disappears as his face and expression areconsumed by hatred, anger and fear. The severity of his expression scares me to my core. This isn’t my Elliot. His eyes are clouded with darkness and demons.
I tug on his hand to make him look at me. “What’s wrong?” I whisper. His jaw clenches as he stares at this man. His grip on my hand tightens, not enough to hurt, but enough to know he is struggling internally. I look back at the man, and my heart drops.
He has the same dark brown hair as Elliot. The same nose. He is just a few inches shorter than him. But the resemblance is there. It’s his father.
I snap my head back to Elliot as I try to pull him closer to me in a futile effort to protect him. What should I do? This is the man who beat and broke him as a child. The man who was supposed to love him unconditionally and protect him from evil, instead he became Elliot’s worst nightmare.
Elliot’s rigid and tense posture stays as the pastor finishes and walks towards usto shake his hand. Elliot raises his hand mechanically with no emotion to grasp the man’s hand. The pastor kindly tells us to take all the time we need before walking away. Elliot turns quickly, tugging me along to go in the opposite direction of his father.
“No greeting for your old man?” A gravelly voice asks behind us. Elliot stops in his tracks.
I try to tug him along, scared now. “Let’s just go,” I beg.
Elliot ignores me as he slowly turns around. My parents, Ana, and Hayden are frozen, unsure what to do. I can see the moment when they realize who this is.
“How are you out?” Elliot asks in a low, deep and menacing voice. A voice that I’ve never heard come from him before.
“They let me out for the morning. For my mothers funeral. Thanks for the call by the way,” His father sneers. My blood is cold now. I’ve never felt such anger and hatred for another person before. Obviously, the time in prison hasn’t changed this man at all.
“Are you alone?” Elliot asks menacingly.
“Unfortunately not,” He answers, jerking his head behind him. I see two cops standing not too far away, but I wish they could come closer. I almost want to wave them over.
“You can leave now, go back to rot in prison,” Elliot warns, in the same low voice.
“You’re not going to introduce me to your girl?” His dead eyes look at me in a way that makes my skin crawl.
“Don’t look at her.” His voice is like ice. “Don’t talk to her,” He threatens, pulling me behind him as his dad gets closer.
My dad walks forward, motioning for my mother to stay away. “Alright, Mr. Decker. I’m sorry for your loss, but I think you should head out now.”
Mr. Decker scoffs. “I haven’t seen or heard from my son in ten years, I want to talk to my son.”
“I’m not your son. You’re not my father. You lost that privilege the first time you hit me,” Elliot says in a deadly voice.
“Good to know you’re just as ungrateful as you were when you were a kid,” Mr. Decker spits out.
“Shut the hell up, you horrible bastard,” I shout at him angrily. “You’re not wanted or welcome here.” Elliot tries to tuck me behind him protectively, but I peer around him.
Mr. Decker laughs humorlessly. Ana looks between Mr. Decker and Elliot with fear. Hayden seems to be trying to tuck her behind him in the same way Elliot is doing to me.
“Oh man, everyone needs to calm down! It’s my mother’s funeral, for God’s sake!” Mr. Decker jeers.
“Well, go on then.” Elliot motions toward the cops, who seem to notice the tension and start slowly walking over.
“Come on, kid. Give me a break. Tell me about your life,” Mr. Decker presses.
“Leave,” Elliot threatens. My dad comes over to stand next to Elliot, facing Mr. Decker.
Mr. Decker laughs again. “You’re the same disrespectful punk-ass kid. You’re nothing.” He gets closer and points a dirty finger in Elliot’s face. “You think this bitch is going to stick around for your useless sorry ass?” He gives me a disgusting sneer, before looking me up and down.
Before I can even process those words and try to stop him, Elliot launcheshimself forward and slams his father to the ground, his hands around his throat. I scream trying to pull his arms back, my dad is trying to do the same, talking into his ear.
But Elliot doesn’t seem to hear or feel us as his eyes—full of hatred—are solely focused on his father’s face. Mr. Decker smiles as his son chokes him, taunting him.
I grab Elliot’s face in my hands and try to turn his head to look at me. “Elliot, please! Stop! You’re better than this! You’re better than him!”
