I told you to be fine -pt 4 Eddie's past

and I told you to be patient
and I told you to be fine
and I told you to be balanced
and I told you to be kind


 
"Mom, we gotta go before dad gets back-" Eddie begged, "Please!" This should not have been his typical Wednesday night, but it was nearly every single week. Eddie's mom, Ruth, touched his cheek gently, "We can't leave, Eddie. We have no where to go..." her eyes were sad, and Eddie could feel his heartbeat thudding against his ribcage at the anticipation of his dad coming back home after his beer run. His mom had two black eyes, and Eddie had handprints, the blue-ish bruised outline covering his entire neck. His mom would never leave. Eddie begged her nearly every day but to no avail. 

"You're going to have to skip school the next couple days, until that bruise goes away, sweetie." she nearly whispered, her deep blue eyes looking at his neck with a motherly inspection, as though this were /normal/. The young boy of only sixteen could hardly breathe he was so distraught. The routine had been the same almost daily - his dad would go to work, go to the bar, come home, and beat the sh*t out of his mom or him, or just one or the other depending on who got in his way first. Eddie had skipped many days of school to let the discoloration of a bruise clear up, or he'd hide them under baggy clothes and jackets, "I'd rather be homeless. He's-" Eddie felt tears pricking at the corners of his eyes, "dad's gonna kill you one day." Ruth frowned at Eddie's prediction and wiped at the blood that crusted around her nose.

"You would never let him kill me." she smiled over at her son, and Eddie's eyes were wide with something that felt an awful like fear. Eddie always stepped in at his moms defense, and every time led to the same ending - His dad beating the absolute sh*t out of him while his mom screamed for him to stop. And on the smaller occassions Eddie had the upper hand, his mom would beg him to stop hurting his dad when he'd only been trying to get his dad to STOP. 

The front door swung open and Eddie's whole body tenssed up, "He doesn't mean to be this way, Eddie."  she said softly, as she went to go greet her husband. He felt like he could be sick. Without hesitation, Eddie went into his bedroom and locked the door. Sitting on the edge of his bed he waited...counted down for what he knew was coming next. It only took fifteen minutes this time - first the arguing started, and no sooner his mom was screaming Eddie's name repeatedly to get him to help. Sometimes he wished he'd never been born, what kind of life was this? She expected him to rescue her /every/ time, and he did. Always. At what cost? Sanity? Health? Happiness? 

Eddie took a deep breath and ran out into the living room, the sight was grisly, "Stop it!" Eddie yelled, grabbing his dad by the shoulders to pull him off of his mom. This just resulted in his dad swinging around and and a blunt object hitting Eddie over the side of his head. Eddie half-spun and staggered sideways, his mothers screams filled his ears as he collapsed to the ground on his hands and knees,  the room spinning in different directions. A steel-toed boot came down onto his back, the air in his lungs escaping in a whoosh as he face-planted into the hardwood flooring. The screams didn't stop. 

What was the point anymore? He felt the fight leaving him, and prayed this was it. Prayed this would be the absolute end. His dad jerked Eddie's head up by his hair, "I'll f***ing kill you. F***ing piece of sh*t." Eddie winced, his hands reaching up trying desparately to escape the grip. His dad pulled him up and shoved Eddie against the wall. Black spots began appearing, the room still spinning, blood dripping from his mouth. Please, let this be it, he silently begged. Eddie screwed his eyes shut, another massive blow to the head and Eddie was on the floor, unresponsive.

It didn't end for another year.