Tisiphone
Death, such a simple word. When put into play, it can destroy worlds, tear families apart, and rip lovers from arms. After sixteen years of living, I longed to put that simple word into my life, to end it.
--Your nothing.—
It was a normal Saturday for me, as normal as I could live it any how. I woke up to a voice I had become familiar with recently. It woke me up every morning the same way.
--Why try hmmm? You know you’ll never amount to anything.--
My clock beeped in my ear as that voice whispered spells of unbenevolent sanction. I rolled and pressed the clock, ignoring the oncoming voice nagging at my conscience.
--Ha! You know it’s pointless, so why wake up?--
“Shut up…”
“Helle?”
I turned around abruptly to see my older brother staring at me oddly.
--He can’t hear me, ya know. Only you can. It’s a nice little quirk.--
I felt Him smile sadistically in my head. Oh how I wish my brother Phobos could hear this parasite who haunted my thoughts.
“Sorry Pho… I was talking to my self…do you need something?”
--Of course he does, why else would anyone visit you? Heh heh heh.--
“Shut up!” I whispered, but he heard me.
“Helle? Are you okay?”
My mental friend laughed again.
--Your so stupid! I’m surprised he cares so much for you! Nobody else would .you shouldn’t make him worry so much…hahaha…--
“Helle?” he asked again. I was still sitting in my bed. I turned to face my bed side table. I then place my elbows on it and grabbed my temples.
--Poor, poor boy. Does this secret hurt?--
“Shut up Thenatos!” I yelled loudly in my frustration, forgetting Phobos. Again he called out my name. Only then it was that I realized what I had done.
“Phobos! I… I’m sorry! I’m not myself today…” he stared me with his knowing eyes, then told me, “don’t leave the apartment today okay?”
--Its like he knows I’ll break you soon.--
“No, Thenatos, you won’t and he couldn’t know anyways.”
--I wouldn’t be so sure my boy…--
“And how would you kn…”
“Helle, who are you talking to? I’m your brother, you can tell me.” I looked up at my brother after moment indecision in despair, realizing I could never tell him. He would never believe me. Even if he did what could he do? Exercise it? So I decided not to tell him.
“Sorry, but I don’t know…” as I said it I glanced at him and cringed. He gave me a look of utter failure. I hated it when he looked at me that way. It was crushing. It was as if he could do nothing right anymore so he should just give up completely. When he looked at me so disappointed and so despairingly, I almost told him, but clamped my mouth shut when “He” came back.
--You’ll sound insane. There are times even I don’t believe you…hehehehe.--
My mind was crippling, along with my body. I looked at my brother then back again. He looked concerned so I announced, “Phobos…I’ll be sure to stay home today.” I again looked up at him. Luckily his distraught, worried face changed to perpetual hope and he said, “Of course,” and left the room.
--Good bye big brother.--
I sighed heavily, exasperated already.
--Only awake for a few, why so exhausted?--
“You…”
--You flatter me.--
“Don’t try too,” and I sighed outward.
--Hmmm…too bad.--
Again I sighed out. I flopped down on my bed and stared at the ceiling. My head ached so badly, so I rolled over onto my stomach.
--Why not just give into me?—
I closed my eyes and turned my head as it throbbed more. I breathed deeply, opening my blood vessels.
--we share this body, but you control it, why be greedy? Hmmm? Give it too me...--
I felt his breath in my ears and his hands on my shoulders, chilling me to the bone. He wasn’t here, but I felt him.
--Come on; allow me to have a turn.--
My body now hurt as a shiver raked me and my soul. His hands were now holding my spirit. I clinched the sheet on my bed as I lost control. I shivered and cowered. I knew I would lose. Then, knock knock. Nothing. I sat up slowly, with only the throbbing in my head left to remind me. My blond hair fell in my face as I crawled out of my bed to see the savior at my door. I trudged dizzily over, still in my boxers when I opened the door. My brother was there with a glass of milk and an egg sandwich. He pushed his way past me saying, “Helle I brought you food. You hungry?” I closed my door and went back to my bed. Phobos picked up the sandwich and handed it to me.
--Mmmmm, egg sandwiches…wish I could taste it.--
Pain shot through me from his sudden burst of rage, and I grabbed my forehead.
“Helle!” and he grabbed my shoulders. I knew he felt me trembling under his warm hands. I pushed him away and bit into my lunch. Now with a mouthful of food I said “I’m fine.” Phobos untensed a bit, but still felt concerned. When I finished my sandwich I drank the milk. My brother pulled back the quilts as I slid into bed. He walked around to the other side and sat, stroking my hair. After a few minutes I fell fast asleep, leaving my nightmare in this reality. Only problem was, I had been strongly mistaken.
--You think sleep can help you run?--
The same as every night, as every morning…that lingering voice.
“No you Demon!”
--Heh, close enough.--
“What do you want Thenatos?”
--Your funny.--
“Thenatos! You haunt my body and my soul! Cant you at least answer my questions?”
--I suppose, but it should be obvious. Think first kid.--
And so I thought. For a while, but never found an answer. I shivered when I felt those hands around my neck. Still I never saw his face.
--You want an answer?--
He squeezed from behind, pressing on my trachea. I reached upward for those hands, and shook my head in approval for the answer I searched for. He smiled his wicked smile, I felt it.
--Hmmm… I want your life!--
And he squeezed.
I woke up. I couldn’t feel my body, but it moved anyway. It felt like floating underwater, the crushing trapped feeling, but still could breath. It was a weird feeling, oddly making me want to cry.
Well, I got up without meaning to. I, still in my boxers, walked to and out my door.
--Don’t get it yet?--
Then I realized what was happening.
“No!”
--Oh, yes. I’m in control now.--
That’s when my life ended.
We moved. We moved down the hall to the living room/kitchen combo of my brothers’ and my apartment. We stopped before we reached our combo room. Thenatos’s actions confused me. He felt my puzzlement and sighed.
--My plan will continue without haste. No matter what you do your heart will be crushed…I promise.--
My spirit jumped upon hearing these dreadful words of resentment. I then shuddered. When he was sure his threat had sunk into my soul. We pushed off the wall he had lain on. We walked in the room and Phobos looked up in our direction. He smiled jubilantly. Then I felt it. Even though he just looked about, expressionless, Thenatos smiled inside. It was scarily sadistic. It was like he wanted to beat, choke, denail, or something even more painful. My heart sank.
--You will die, boy.--
He talked to my brother this time, not me, Not Me, NOT ME!
“Don’t you dare touch my brother, you Demon!!”
He didn’t even flinch as I had before. I wanted to cry, just bawl on my brother’s shoulder. But I had no tear glands as a wisp of haze with words to speak, so now I had lost all hope.
We moved to sit on the couch beside Pho. Thenatos laid our head onto his shoulder. He pulled his arm around us. He looked down onto our blonde haired head and asked, “Feeling better, bud?”
“Yeah…we’re feeling better.”
Had Phobos heard right? Surely his dearest brother hadn’t said “we’re,” could he? He speculated for a few moments before he decided he had just…misheard. I screamed into my skull hoping he would hear my voice and realize he hadn’t just heard wrong.
--boy, we already discussed this. He can’t hear me without your vocal cords. Now that I have your voice he can’t hear you. Hehehehe. So sorry my dear boy.--
Even though he told me I was practically screwed, I didn’t believe him. We still shared our eyes, and I seen Phobos glancing at us, knowing I had lied to him. Yes! He hadn’t shrugged off the sentence Thenatos threw out to him. My hope came back! Please figure it out soon Pho!
After a while Phobos removed his arm from around our shoulder. Both Thenatos and I were surprised when he did so. Did he need to pee? He looked down at us, which said no, I don’t need to pee. We need to talk, although he hadn’t said a thing.
“Now that you feel better,” he fakely smiled down, “we should go downtown hmm?” I love that smile. It meant he was up to something. Now, at least I knew he knew what ever tormented me now possessed me fully. I smiled inside knowing my brother would win against this…thing, which was unbeknownst of the situation. The question my brother asked, if answered yes, was a trial to prove I was me not him.
“Yeah…that would be nice Phobos.” Phobos and I just smiled. He then said, “Well then. Why are we still sitting on this couch? Let’s go!” And so we did.
Within an hour we were in downtown Greece. It was my all-time favorite place. A fake smile was plastered on our and Pho’s faces as we strolled down the street. Night had already descended upon our beautiful country. We stopped periodically at a vendor to pick up Dolma, a tasty treat of grape leaves stuffed with ground sirloin, or to grab my favorite drink, Souroti. My brother took note of my excitement. It was as if I had yet to taste such wonders in my lifetime, yet we all knew I had.
Eyes watched my every move, waiting for a mistake. So far so good for Thenatos, but that would hopefully end. We walked down the street, out of the marketing district and into the abandoned part of town. He’d kept up an almost perfect disguise. I was surprised actually, only because he hadn’t been corrupting me for more than a few days, only knowing a smidgen of my soul, memories, and behavior.
The abandoned part of this district was desolate and tired. No one had been around this contorted place for years. The windows were all shattered in a grotesque manner. The glass lay strewn on the ground in a deliberate mess. The trash, supposed to have been rid of, sat contentedly in the alleyways, not wanting to be moved from the spot. Rats carrying diseases scurried to and fro looking for crumbs dropped by a passerby or drunk. The benches for the bus stop were covered in grime, the green mossy kind you see in the movies that even the crows shy away from. It wasn’t even tolerable. The power had long since been removed from here. All that aside, the smell was what people avoided most. Nothing I had ever smelt even compared to this caprylic, empyreumatic, noisome smell. Even still I loved this place. It was home to my most magnificent memoirs. Thenatos had no knowledge of this. His mistake.
Thenatos got closer and closer to Phobos. He acted insecure as if I had never been here. My brother immediately knew this wasn’t me. I loved this place. I could relate to its abandonment and being condemned.
My brother pushed us away hard and cruel. Both consciences were surprised. Phobos looked down at us with extreme reject. I looked at him. I did not know this Phobos. It wasn’t him at all. My brother smiled, not profusely glaring at someone, especially me. My brother never hated anyone or anything, now he was full of this hating rage. I was horrified and scared. This wasn’t my brother.
“Who are you?!”
“Heh…so you caught me,” he shrugged and smiled.
“Of course I did. My brother hasn’t been afraid of this place since he was seven. Now tell me who you are!”
“Well you’re not fun.”
I felt the rage boil up inside us. Thenatos was getting angry. Why though?
“I don’t care if I’m being fun or not! Who the heck are you?!”
Thenatos smiled evilly and seductively. It was a terrifying captivation that my face had never shown. I felt distorted now. He looked at my brother and raised his head and spoke in a calm unshaken voice, smile still plastered on our face. “I am a nightmare. One that can’t be erased or forgotten. I am your brother yet I am not. I’m his Demon.”
My brother looked at him. His eyebrows still furrowed, but in contemplation, not anger. Did he really believe him? This poser? This fake? How could he? It just wasn’t fair. My brother looked up again after thinking for a while, determination sparked.
“How do I save him?”
“Him who?”
“My brother!”
“I am your brother…”
“No! Not you! Helle! That’s my brother! You’re not him!”
Thenatos turned his body to face away from Phobos and sighed. “Pain…” and that was all. How could that do anything? I was already in excruciating pain from this psychological torment, and yet, I was still just a nag in the recesses. This was a lie!
“How does pain get him back?”
“Pain brings forth trauma, creating mixed feelings,” the smile’s back, “pushing me out.”

My brother moved back into deep thought. “I can’t hurt my brother. I swore to
protect him when I almost lost him, and you can’t make me break that.”

“I can’t?”

Thenatos looked over to the grounds premises. The shattered glass lain there for all to see. Then a smirk. He bent over and picked up a sharp piece of triangular shaped glass. It sparkled under the pale, white glow of the waxing crescent. I was captivated by its translucency. How glorious. He turned it on its side in his hands and placed the tip onto our finger and pressed. Of course blood oozed from the wound, which was expected. He held the injured finger up the light moon beams. Oddly I loved the sight. Even though it was my bloody finger, and I should be scared, it was artistic.

“What are you doing?” Pho asked puzzled.

“This is only the start of the pain to come. You hurt us or I hurt us.” And with that he rose the glass and jammed it down, through our hand. No pain or sound or thoughts. My mind went blank. When Thenatos looked over he seen Pho running, grabbed our wrists, and we fell. None of this registered until I the pain from before catapulted me back to the real world. I still couldn’t scream. Our head hurt, our hand hurt and I hurt.

My brother was holding our wrists above our head so we couldn’t hurt ourselves anymore. Our body was tiny and lacking muscle, so he wiggled about trying to loosen his grasp, to be free. Thenatos would have sooner chosen a better host with a more muscular physic than choose someone with a body that can barely hold his own weight. Phobos was loosing him grip, and quick. His hands, and my wrists, were sweaty. Finally our grip was loosened and the glass was grabbed by our hands again. In the next few moments I lost my brother.
According to the autopsy there is an artery on the underside of your bicep. When cut you lose 40 to 50% of blood in approximately 3 seconds, killing you almost immediately. Thenatos hit that artery when our hands were free. He cackled and gave back control. I felt lost and abject. The only person in the world who cared for me was gone and I was alone. I ran out of the abandoned area and found a pay phone, dialed the police and explained the situation. The police said it was all just an accident and left it at that. No court case, nothing. They told me to go home, that everything would be alright. But of course this wasn’t the case. I was being haunted by a demon that killed my only living, previously living, relative. Now I had nowhere to go and no one to trust.

--You never really cared about him did you?--
I went home and sat in my room. I didn’t look at Phobos’s room; I just walked on past it. Sitting on my bed left me with nothing to do but think. And that is most certainly what I did. I thought. I thought about how he died. It just kept replaying in my mind! The thing that sat open the most was what he said… “Lost him.” When had he almost lost me?

--Your curious hmmm? You want to know what he meant don’t you?--

“Yes….of course I do…”

--Who wouldn’t?--

I contemplated what to do next for a long time. How would I find out about the person I knew best? Me…

--Do your best kid.--

So I figured it out. A few years ago I was taken by the Greek protection services. They told my brother that he was a threat to my sanity and they took me away. Of course I was given back, but I don’t remember what happened there. Maybe that was what Pho meant. He almost lost me there! So I now have a lead, and I followed it.

The main institute wasn’t far off from where I lived. Only a few hours away, approximately a day walk from my house. Luckily my brother had some cash stored away all over the house. I found some and hitched a ride to it. Now I was going back to the place I hated most, that much I remembered.

I got out of the taxi and went to the front door of the building. It looked so much more like a psycho ward than a place of help and salvation. I shivered and walked in. The moment I opened the door people recognized me. People I didn’t know. I either got looks of grace or of hate. Neither was comforting. The ones smiling looked like I was there for experimentation, the perfect subject. The ones who weren’t smiling were looking at me as if I had already been used. I was kind of like a bad penny that just kept coming back. What I hated most was their cliché white lab coats. I felt like I just walked into a sci-fi movie, which, by the way, is very unnerving.

After a while of going form one hallway to next, becoming utterly lost, a voice behind me sounded, “Helle! Your back! Last time I saw you, you were a little one! Barely knee high.” I turned around to see a stout man in his middle years. He also wore a white jacket. A white shirt and slacks on underneath that coat. His face was coated with stubble. Gross… really gross. He looked like he hadn’t bathed in a week or two. Truthfully, he had the air of someone ruthless, someone who likes riddling with a persons mind. He was the most unnerving thing I’d seen yet.

--Remind you of anyone?--

Of course he did. It was a scary resemblance, personality wise, to Thenatos.

“Well it’s so nice you came here instead of us going to get you. I hear your brother died. Such a loss huh?”
Who was this man? Why does he care if my brother is living or not. Why is he making these ridiculous jokes about him? I hated this man. I glared at him, stared him down!

“Still don’t enjoy my company eh? Don’t blame you. I’m not the type to trust.” He smiled at me.

“What do you want?”

“You were my client a few years back, but I suppose you don’t remember do you? You were a head case that’s for sure.”

“…”

“Don’t believe me? I have your records and old videos still. I bet that’s what you came here for right?”

“How did you know about that?” he looked me down.

“That’s the only reason a released would come back. Besides, you despised this place,” a large smile then plastered his greasy face. His yellow teeth showed brightly, a cruel man indeed. I knew he was right. I couldn’t remember it, but I got vibes from it that said this wasn’t my most pleasant time in life. Even still, I just had to know! When did he almost lose me? How did this affect me now? Why didn’t I remember it now? Or even before now? I hated this place, so full of my past and mysteries. I looked up at this oleaginous man. He stared me down, but I didn’t falter.

“I want the documentation of when I stayed here before. I’m sixteen without a guardian, so I can take charge myself. You have no right to refuse me.”
The man cackled. “I guess I can’t can I? Well then, come along.” And he turned and walked away. What do I do now? … I followed… seriously not my best idea.
I followed him down this dark corridor, past the young men and women in the locked rooms. Hearing their excruciate cries made me cringe. I was terrified to look over again. I had already made that mistake and seen the maniacal, distressed, senseless, creatures locked away so not to mutilate anyone. I couldn’t look away from such familiar expressions. It felt like I had worn that same visage. that was what petrified me to the spot. I was adhered from their cries asking for help and salvation they couldn’t receive. I was eventually able to tear myself away from it with my body oscillated and my hands gripped my ears. I ran after the crazy doctor whom would lead me out of this hall of madness. As direful as he was he wasn’t near as atrocious as the feelings of correlation I felt toward the patients of this institute.

At the end of the hall was a door. It was an old oak door with an antique handle. There were creases to show its age and use. Oils from multiple patients and doctors wore out the color to give it a pinkish color. It was the path out of this treacherous hall, but into a room of memories. No matter where I stayed it was going to be cruciation.

The old man opened the door and shuffled me in. the room was small, only housing a desk and shelves. Papers were scattered all around the room. The man walked around to the seating area of the desk. Instead of sitting down, he opened a drawer and pulled out one file. Platitude… He walked back around the desk in front of me and handed me the file. The tab at the top had my name on it. Helle Ambrose. My name. I sat down in a pile of papers and opened the file. The first thing was a picture of me when I was fourteen. I looked deranged. It was not surprise now that I had recognized those countenances. I removed the paper clip binding the papers together and put the picture to the back.

The next page was quite shocking. It was a news headline of a boy found in a bar covered in alcohol from broken bottles. It read, “BOY FOUND HALF CRAZZED IN BAR” The rest of the page read, “A young boy was found in a bar sitting in pile of alcohol and glass. The glass was from the bottles he apparently busted open. He had been using the glass to pry at his unclothed chest, ears, and eyes. When he was found at opening time, he was muttering to himself ‘get it out’.”

“Was that really me?” I was shaken. The doctor smiled at me again.

“Well of course it was. You think I would put that in there for fun? I would have been fired.”
I
put the news article to the back and looked at the next paper. It was a report from this very building. This one said,

“Helle Ambrose
Age-14
Hight-5’6”
Weight-58.2 kg
Condition- multiple personality disorder”
The rest was technical mumbo-jumbo. I just skipped over it. Next page I skimmed until a phrase caught my eye. “This case of MPD is much more intriguing than most, then more medical terms. I couldn’t make it out to save my life. The rest of the packet was just court cases against my brother, medicine I had to take, and what my condition was like. I closed the folder and handed it back to whoever this gross man was.

“Sir, would you explain what MPD is?”

He flipped through the folder and said, “MPD is a medical disorder in which a person who has been traumatized, usually in the early stages of life, seems to gain a new personality. The main symptoms of said disorder are the ‘loss’ of time and acting in a different manner. The effected persons often have no idea this is occurring. Other symptoms are depression, confusion, suicidal thoughts, phobias, differing levels of ability to function ‘normally,’ anxiety, and anxiety attacks. Some cases the person or persons may have extreme headaches and or eating disorders. Also, it isn’t Schizophrenia. Does that some it up for you?”

I shook my head up and down to let him know his answer was suffice. I sat in question again, absorbing what I had just been exposed to. I came to the conclusion that this wasn’t me. I didn’t “lose” my time. I never had panic attacks ever. I was almost normal…almost.

“What is Schizophrenia?”

Again without missing a beat he said, “Schizophrenia is another type of personality disorder that hits as a young adult. A person diagnosed with schizophrenia is affected in behavior, thought, and feelings. They regularly can’t differentiate between the real world and the imagined world and can’t think logically. This disorder isn’t caused by a traumatic experience, but genetics and birth defects instead.”

I came to the conclusion almost immediately that I was more likely to have schizophrenia than MPD, seeing as how I suffered from Thenatos. Even though I had wrought a conclusion, I still had questions.

“What did that report mean when it said I was a ‘special case’?” The doctor glanced up from his reading, sighed loudly, and then shut the folder.

“When you were found in that bar, you were sitting in glass begging yourself to leave yourself alone. This is normal for a schizophrenic patent, but you exhibited no other signs of the disease. When we tested you for MPD, you came up positive, but only in a few aspects of the disease. Your case seemed different…new. You most likely have more complex version of the two diseases combined. Only a few other cases have been found like that, but none determined.”

“Why?”

“Why haven’t they been determined?”

“Yes...”

“Well, the people who all had this disease were compounded then reverted to their normal state, forgetting everything. About two or three years later their problem came back. Only problem was, they died before we got a chance to diagnose them.”

I was stunned. How was I supposed to react to this? Did that mean I was about to die? Well, what did it matter…I didn’t care anymore.

“Can I see their records?”

The man sighed and went back around the desk. He handed me four other folders.

I opened the first folder. Again it was a picture, but this time of a different boy. His name was Ipolit Erasmus. He was a small boy, like me. Unlike me, he had dark circles under his eyes, his hair was thinning, his face was mere skin and bones, and he was a steely pale. He looked dead and it scared me. I pressed it to the back of his folder. The first page said the same thing mine did. Name, age, height, weight, and condition. Same with the next page. Because the third page in my folder had something interesting in it I scanned this one. It also was also a news report. The headline stated, “A boy found begging to be hung,” I read the following passage.

“A boy named Ipolit Erasmus was found in his basement binding a noose. When police entered he begged them that he needed to be hung. When his request was refused he ran off and hid. When found, he had clawed open his throat.”
What could have made him do such a thing? I looked down at my bandaged hand.

--It’s the same concept really…--

I winced. He was right I had wanted to hurt myself earlier… when my brother wanted him out. Tears threatened to roll out onto my face. I blinked them away and read the next article.

“Boy who tried to hang himself woke up Sunday morning. When reporters and experts went to ask him why he had attempted suicide he said ‘I didn’t.’ experts say he may have forgotten the incident or he doesn’t want to remember it.”
The next was more shocking than the previous two. “Ipolit Erasmus made another attempt at his life. His older brother and sister told reporters that he was a bad child and needed pain. When they said no, he changed. He said you just set your brothers execution date and then laughed. He walked up to his bedroom and didn’t come out. Even though the two were worried, they just passed it off. The next day he was found in his room dead. He had hung himself.”
The rest of the articles from the other folders were the same.

--You’ll die like that…just like I planned.--

Man…I felt doomed. I was doomed. How could I overcome such prophecy? The rest of the articles were just as scary. The next was a girl she was nineteen. Her hair was black ad full. Her eyes were darker than black. She was thin framed and pale. She was smiling but she wasn’t happy. She held one eye open wide and the other half closed. Her face was turned up. She was mad, insane. Her arms were covered with cuts and scars, apparently from clawing at her arms like a meth addict. Her lips were bruised and scabbed over.

Her article said, “Girl discovered in streets found to be mad” next said, “Talia Zandra was found wandering the streets asking around for a way to break bone in the most painful way. The police caught up to her rather quickly and easily confiscated her. At the station she kept conversing with herself. She would say things such as ‘don’t you dare’ or ‘I’m in control now, you can’t hurt me.’ When the police confronted her about it she smiled and said, ‘oh come on, you can hear her too right? She doesn’t want me hurt, but I need the power…hurt me.’ And then moments later she would yell, ‘please don’t trust me I was lying, shut up you freak believe me, believe me!!!’ not knowing what to do she was locked away for the night. A physiatrist was hired to check her out around noon the next day, but by the time he had arrived, she was dead.”

I had to stop reading there, to absorb this. Because I was still sane, sane enough, I was shivering. Cold chills ran up and down my spine letting me know this was real. Then I continued to read.

“The girl was found with her head bashed in. according to the autopsy she had crushed her skull with the bars of the cell. When discovered, she was still gripping the bars of the cell, she was still smiling.”
I put the article to the back. The next were just pictures, so I almost passed them up., but I got a glimpse of it and it held my gaze. I almost puked upon seeing it. It was the picture of her sitting in the cell. Her deformed skull was bleeding profusely. Her knuckles were white in the black and white photo. Her smile was as wide as her eyes. Her knees were scrapped. I expeditiously placed it, and the others, in the back. I ignored the rest.

The next was another boy. Elius Colin. All of them were small in size, I was too. He was short and pale…we were all pale also. Black hair folded over his left eye. He had red highlights all in his hair. He had six piercing, four on his ears and two on his lip. He smiled a very sad, normal smile. His dress was a lot like my own. His eye was dark and tired. His fingers were delaminating. Parts of his nails were chipped away others were torn clean off. His neck was covered with marks, not mad by a human hand. It looked more like a chain. This kid looked like he was just being beaten. He wasn’t though.

“Elius Colin, 17, was arrested when his father reported being beaten y his son. He was questioned by the police on said abuse. Elius said ‘I didn’t hurt my father, he did this to protect me. Something in my home is hurting me and we can’t figure out what it is. If I’m here then I won’t get hurt.’ The next day the police went back to the house and searched it. Nothing was discovered. The boys’ father was arrested for lying and falsifying a report. The boy was sent back to live with his mother. A few days later a man came to check up on him, but ended up removing him from his mothers care. She gladly gave him up, but only because she knew he needed help. He had ran to her room screaming in the middle of the night. She asked him what was wrong and he said ‘I can’t hide from him! Oh no, of course not I’m always here! Go away! mother please help me…”