A/N: Hey there beautiful people :D
Thought I'd try something a little different since I'm not at all that great with drama. ;) Was very inspired after the last season finale. Some drama but it's mainly a story of healing.
My story doesn't have anything to do with any new changes for the new season. This is just my own version of the new year taking off DTW. Hell, don't think I'll be watching the newest season. I'm done for now, but not with writing. Wasn't sure to include Imogen in this, maybe I will or won't, but like I said, I'm not really following up with the new stuff. Will say that Clare is a thorn in the side, that much is for sure. This story will be mainly surrounding Eli, but also along with others. The title is inspired by Lacuna Coil's single from their album Karmacode. It deemed pretty fitting for the significance of the story. :)
Disclaimer: I do not own Degrassi in any shape or form, only the story and my character that will appear next chapter. I'll only give away that her personality was built upon traits from each of my inspirational friends from her speech, to her dress wear, to her ride, to her looks, etc. She is combination of many inspirations into one full person. They can put me to shame. I've seen many different lifestyles and attitudes in the Degrassi series. Let's see what happens when you include a little untamed spice to the mix. She's one hell of an individual.
No flamers, no preaching, no bad mouthing or pointless comments. Only respectable commentary and reviews are allowed. Also another thing, if you don't like the story, if you don't like my character, etc; just don't continue to read, simple as that. Keep any immature comments sealed.
Rated M for drug use, sex, self-infliction, and more.
Enjoy!
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Prologue
A crack of thunder resounded an intense warning of an incoming storm. Dark clouds had painted over the sky, giving Eli the sign before he had stepped outside his house that early evening . The weather is kind to always throw the world a warning. Why can't life be merciful as such? Because life has no mercy. Not on him, not on anyone.
The chaotic weather resembled the air of his soul, complete dismal despair. Then it came. One by one the ice cold daggers fell upon his skin, slowly drenching hair, denim, cloth, and leather. The wind chilled like the heart of the ice queen. She reigned through the night with vicious promise, effortlessly bellowing the rain symbolizing her cruelty. For strange reasons, he near coveted for the bleak tirade of the sky; he would give anything to be only awake on the late hours rather than living during the day. He despised daylight; always having to be reminded every time he'd look at the blue sky.
Blue. Like her eyes.
Another whiplash of ice speared through his chest to his heart, the chill absorbing the last of his warmth having reduced him to numbness once more.
She's gone.
Not literally. Not dead. No, just gone away from him. Slipped right out of his fingers, out of his heart, out of his life. He realized what he had done when it had already gone too far.
She was gone. She was afraid. So ashamed and disgusted she couldn't look at him. While at the hospital, the doctors treated him as a suicidal.
"The doctors are recommending that you stay." Bullfrog said grimly, sitting by the hospital bed. "But I'm leaving it up to you. If you don't want to be here son, I'll fight through security if they won't let you walk out of here, but if you want to stay…that's fine too."
Eli replied in a dead voice without hesitation. "I'll stay."
One would wonder just how screwed up was he? Who willingly stays when it wasn't attempted suicide to begin with. One mistake some could make is by trusting that they secretly want help, which is a far cry from the truth. He had snapped. And the devious ploys stirred within. It was all a plan, a plan he would see through to get his way. By agreeing to stay he was excused from school. He wondered if it was pity that they allowed him to recover his grades through taking exams in the summer to qualify for his senior year. Most likely. Either way, he will be returning, he will be stuck at Degrassi for one more year, and then he will be able to leave and run where he chooses. Cece and Bullfrog considered sending him to a different school, but Eli wasn't having any of that, leaving no room for open discussion. Despite the appearance of his best friend Adam in his life, his doctor and parents feared a relapse in his recovery if he returned.
Little did they know, it didn't matter either way.
His consenting to therapy was false hope from the beginning, and like a perfect schemer, he grinned and bore with it. When it was over he believed it would keep him off everyone's watchful radar.
His theory proved success.
He spent two months away in therapy, afterwards released to study for exams, after passing his parents took him away for a few weeks before he finally returned to the comfort of his room…and now here.
Here in this forest park where he had taken the new car Bullfrog bought to cheer him up, was his sanctuary. It was comforting, the wide open area as he had dimly explored a near half mile into the deserted tree land. By fooling his parents, his doctors, he was claimed partially recovered and was now free as a bird.
Him? Recovered? That was a joke and a half. Nothing could save him from this. Though he was deemed recovered, due to his insistence that he will be returning to Degrassi, the doctors prescribed low milligram anti-depressants and anxiety pills to keep him in check daily while at school. He was trusted more than the beginning of summer, but it was the school and the students, one in particular, they didn't trust to not snap him back into relapse. Understandable, but with the additional meds, he never felt better. This vacant hollow pit in his being is what he held onto. Right now he was waiting, waiting for it to come. To come and cloak him in darkness to where he won't remember anything. He near cried for it to come; wanted to lay down and beg as he began to feel fresh pain cruelly prick at his mind and heart, berating him, reminding him of all that he's done; reminding it was all he had left and what he was. He was nothing but a vacant, empty, swallowed hole.
She left you.
He gently pressed the blade he had been holding into the skin of his index finger, sliding up each skinned segment reaching to the tip near his fingernail. That's all it took, just one simple line he needed to draw and the blood slowly oozed through the open crease when very little pressure was pressed.
She didn't love you.
Eli blankly presented the blade to his middle finger, then to the next, and the next until all fingers had one slice each.
She hates you.
His shoulders quaked, his hand holding the knife began to shake. This was tormenting, it always taunted him before taking him fully.
You ruin everything.
He knew that. Always did. And why does he always go against it anyway? Because he was a monster, always destroying anything good that came into his life.
She's better off without you.
Yes. She was. He made his last long cut around the palm of his hand. He held his left hand up to view the handiwork. Blood seeped through all the marks he had carved. Placing the knife on a tissue settled on top of a box near him, he stood. He walked over to the red wall. It wasn't red when he had first found this place. This little building, that once had plain interior concrete walls, were splattered with bloody handprints, all darkened with age from previous encounters. He allowed his hand to sit for five seconds, and pushed softly harder on his skin, wincing from the slit of pain as more blood began to pour out. It was beautiful. It amazed him even in this frozen state how much blood can seep out of hands. He winced again when he placed his hands together as if in prayer. He peeled his right hand away from his left. Walking steadily closer toward the wall, he lifted his right hand and planted it firmly on the rough, grey, concrete. Over and over he 'prayed' and 'painted.'
He sat back in his seat viewing his newest addition to his handiwork while the thoughts kept coming to bite him. He became more resentful.
Your fault.
Yes. His fault.
Your fault. It repeated again.
He knew it was his entire fault. Oh god no. With that final revelation, he could feel his heart split again. Not again! He looked to the cursed universe above, his eyes tightened in scrutinized pain, mentally begging the torture to stop before it cuts any deeper. Unable to take the constant reminding, he unleashed a dreadful scream of despair echoing through the pouring rain and thundering heavens. The leaves shivered in response and the insects were silenced in fear. In the distance all that could be heard were thundering drums and screaming throughout the air.