"Elliot"
Growing up in the orphanage, he was accustomed to his friends coming and going. This often dissuaded him from making friends in the first place but when he did, he made it a point never to become attached, things were too flimsy.
The Beatriz situation was another scenario, though. In the brief time that she had been there, he took an immediate liking to her and they were practically inseparable.
Now, they must separate and it tears his heart to pieces.
He doesn’t want her to leave, he feels like he’d never have another friend, not another like her at least.
It angers him, also. He blames himself for breaking down that barrier and letting her into him. He is also upset, and this reason makes him ashamed, that he’s been in this orphanage for damn near all of his years and not one family has ever taken an interest in him, but within months of her arrival, she’s already shipping out.
If he hadn’t felt unwanted before, already being abandoned, he feels unwanted now, lower than everything.
It wrenches him, that feeling. He hates it, but he can’t help it. He keeps telling himself that it’s not her fault, but with that rationale, he begins to think it’s his.
She hugs him now, her grip tight, sniffling on his shoulder. He hugs her as well, feeling lachrymose as well.
“I don’t wanna leave, not yet!”
“You have to.”
“I wanna stay with you!”
He can’t take her ingratitude anymore, she should be happy these people want her, he would kill for the opportunity.
He grabs her by the shoulders and holds her firm; her moist eyes are wide and scared.
His anger is understated.
“Don’t be stupid, girl! You don’t wanna stay with me, you’re smarter than that! They will provide a life for you, a good one! You should take advantage of this!”
There are tears in his eyes from the passion he feels.
“Get out,” he lets her go, “they’re waiting.”
She stands there for a moment, unsure. She turns to leave. He watches her and can feel his heart breaking. She opens the door and turns back to him.
“I-I’ll call you…every day.” She says with conviction.
“Don’t.”, it came out a little cruel so he tacked on, “Please.”, tenderly.
The door closes and she’s gone.
The house is near quiet, he walks in stealthy steps through the corridor in barefeet, soaked and dripping on the teal carpet.
He cracks the door slowly, allowing dull light to spill along the frame, and opens it wider to allow himself in.
His prey is slumped over in bed, apparently having fallen asleep while awaiting him with another lump beside him that stirs and moans.
He approaches and lightening crackles through the dark sky, flashing a blind white. He’s at the foot when thunder roars loudly. The prey wakes up sleepily, sees Elliot’s looming figure, and franticly reaches under his silk encased pillow to draw a pistol. His hand shakes as he points it at his assassin.
“Don’t come any closer! I’ll kill you!”
Elliot still advances and the hammer cocks.
This man is quivering afraid of him, he feels nothing, unbelievably cool.
“Stay back!” The prey springs onto his knees and fires a warning shot that wakes up his bedfellow. The nude girl screams and falls out the bed.
The prey shoots again but is caught in the jugular by Elliot’s well aimed stiletto. He jerks back, gargling, clutching his throat. Elliot strides over to him and grabs the handle of the blade, pushes it in deeper, and rips it across, releasing a violent burgundy gush that splashes onto him. After the spurting has ebbed, the corpse sinks down against the headboard.
The girl is a screaming banshee in the corner and curls into a ball, overwhelmed by horror, putting her hands up defensively as she sees this monster moves toward her.
Elliot takes a blanket from the bed; one not too sullied, and covers her vulnerable, whimpering, frame soothingly before leaving through the window.
The girl looks up at him smiling, dragging her doll with her as she runs towards him bowlegged.
“Papà!”
He held the ice cream cone he was making for himself to her and her pudgy hands dropped the doll and desperately stretched up to grab it.
“Caddy! Caddy!”
He kept it at a small distance, inches from her grasp.
“Can you eat this without getting it all over yourself?”
She tiptoed up and he held it higher.
“Gimme, gimme, please!” she begins to whine and he finally gives it to her.
“Thank you, please.” She said more to the cone than him, wandering away.
He starts making another for himself.
“ELLIOT!!” Anna calls out.
“Yeah?” he calls back.
She storms into the kitchen with Bella Rosa on her hip, the cone still in her hand, ice cream smeared all over her face.
“You gave her ice cream!” she accuses.
“She wanted it.”
Anna scoffs and sits Bella Rosa on the counter, wets a paper towel and starts cleaning her face.
“Who is this girl under all this, hmm? Not my girl, not my pretty little angel!” she baby-talks to her and Bella Rosa smiles and giggles when she is tickled under the chin.
“I bet you touched the walls, put ice cream everywhere!” Anna continues to baby-talk as she takes the cone from her and throws it in the sink, cleans her hands. Bella doesn’t seem to care. “Papà, will clean that up, yes he will.”
Elliot chuckles as he puts the ice cream away. Anna picks up Bella Rosa and begins to leave.
“You’ll spoil my little dolce rotten!” she says over her shoulder at him.
He chuckled again.
