Eli stared pleadingly at Thomas, begging for him to help him out of yet another tight spot. Thomas knew he should move, defend Eli, anything… No matter what he thought though, his body refused to move. Frustrated, Thomas closed his eyes. Leaning heavily on the weathered brick wall near him, the picture of Eli’s desperate face flashed in his mind. The jeers and insults seemed to be getting louder the longer Thomas remained in his hiding place.
“Insolent pig!” The first insult stung, but they were far from being done.
“Disgusting klutz!” Thomas squeezed his eyes shut even tighter and mentally scoffed at himself. As if closing his eyes would make this nightmarish life dissipate.
“You pungent son of a bimbo!” He slid down the wall slowly. He should be out there defending Eli… yet all he could do was huddle in a ball meters away from someone who needed him.
“What a blockhead!”
“Prehistoric cretin!”
“Dirty black!”
At that, Thomas’ eyes flashed open and he stumbled out of his hiding place. A cry of indignation flew into the air and it took him a brief second to realize it had come from his own lungs. Yet his cry went unheard by all but one. Eli’s tormented eyes met his. Once again, Thomas froze.
The two white males were laughing cruelly, his friend crouched in between them. Eli’s cheek seemed swollen and blood dribbled from his lips.
“Ahh, what should we do with it?” Thomas heard the shorter, fatter man ask jovially. Eli is not an ‘it’.
“Why don’t we kill ‘em? The piece o’ shit’s gonna die anyway.” The sound of Thomas’ employer’s voice made Thomas’ hands clenched into fists. Why, that snake…
Everything that could’ve gone wrong was going wrong. Everything in Eli’s defeated stature implored for Thomas to help him, to save him.