He was tired almost to the point where he couldn't function. His mind was filled with negative thoughts and only those of that nature. He laid his body to rest on his bed allowing the softness of his mattress to try and comfort the blow of his inner most suffering. He let his fingers run all the way through his shaggy, brown hair. He didn't want to wait anymore. He had waited four years hoping that things would get better in his life, take a turn to show something more promising, but it hadn't. Not even remotely close to that.

Eli Goldsworthy was the boy who hid all his pain from those around him. Instead he poured his severe depression into his dark clothes, black painted fingernails, his hearse, and his aura of keeping those away from him. His biggest contribution to his act was his fake smile; one that he embedded on his face so that no one would ever bother to ask questions.

His life used to be on a right path. Four years ago before high school started, he was happy to say the least. He was excited to attend Degrassi and explore the world of high school. He was ready to take part in the arts and project his work into not only drama, but literature as well. That soon took a downhill spiral for just as he set foot into the corridors of his new school, his family shattered to bits.

His father left his mother out of the blue. One night he had been sleeping in her bed beside her and the next morning, he was gone without a trace. There were no warning signs in his urge to leave, no sense of unhappiness when he would come home everyday. There was only a note; scribbled words on a piece of paper that ended any chance of Eli ever being happy again. The words were burned into the back of Eli's mind and no matter how much effort he put in trying to forget them, they never strayed.

I've wanted to leave for a long time now and I figured talking about it would just cause more drama than needed. I am traveling far, far, away from the Toronto area and I would appreciate it if no one came after me or tried to find me. This is what I desire for myself.

That was all that remained of Eli's father. There was no sympathy in his words, not even an ounce of care was put into that note. It was written monotonously, an out of duty chore in the eyes of Eli's dad. It was a selfish and pitiful way to end a relationship that had been going on for years.

Eli remembers how his mother broke down into a flash flood of tears and how she yelled at Eli to go away. He didn't hesitate for he knew by the context and venom of his mother's words, that it wasn't his place to be around. There was a lot of wailing and glass breaking from downstairs as Eli listened from behind the closed door of his bedroom. He didn't understand his father's decision and even to this day, he still had no clue. He waited for hours, well into the darkness of the night, until his mother's high pitched shrieks dulled to nothing, but a small whimper. He waited for her footsteps to pass by his bedroom, before heading into her own down the hall.

It was then that Eli broke down. He cradled his knees to his chest and let a steady flow of tears escape from his eyes. He wasn't at an age where he didn't know what this meant. He knew that his father was gone for good; reasons of which he would never come to uncover, and that his life was about to be turned upside down. That day was the representation of when Eli slowly began his road to depression. It was in that time frame that signaled the feeling of sorrow to well up in Eli's core. Sadness wrapped around Eli's tissues, latched onto his bones, and poisoned his blood steam. An incurable illness was taking over. It marked Eli's happiness, laughter, and overall stable being as a thing of the past. This was in addition, the beginning of his mother's journey to a long winding road of drugs, alcohol, and ultimately, abuse.

Eli listened to his chest rise and fall. He admired his final few moments that he would have on the Earth. He inhaled the empty scent of his room, stroked the cotton fabric of his sheets and admired his headphones beside his bed that he had used to block out the noise of his raging mother. He rolled over on his right side and propped himself up with his elbow. He reached his hand over to the top draw of his night table and pulled out his favorite 'Dead Hand' album. It had been personally signed by the band after he won a contest on the local radio. Eli considered it his most prized possession for the 'Dead Hand's' music is what rang through his ears during his most painful moments of life.

Tick, Tock.

The clock on his wall filled Eli's eardrums. His eyes darted to the clock placed on his wall. It was mocking him; asking him what he was still waiting for. What was the use of taking in the scenery when he was about to leave it all behind?

Eli gripped the CD tightly in his palms and thanks to a brutal toss, it landed with a thud in his drawer. Eli let the soles of his feet graze the tiled floor of hid bedroom and eventually shifted his weight onto them, allowing him to stand.

Tick, tock, the hand moving on the clock teased Eli yet again. It read 4:30. Eli only had an hour before his mom got home from work. He would have to do this fast. There would have to be no more delays. It was time to finally reach a peace that he longed for.

High school hadn't given him that satisfaction. Every assignment done was by force. Friends had no meaning to him because after all the drama he had heard about, he figured he was better off without them. His passion for writing became none and his ability to once be able to get into any character soon melted away. Eli Goldsworthy was a dead soul existing in a world that had done nothing to inspire him to live anymore.

Eli headed over to his closet and slid the door open. He lifted off the cover of what would look like to his mom as an old shoebox, if she ever decided to pry. But it was much more than that. It was his way out. Eli threw the lid onto the ground and emptied the box of its contents; a rope, a pen, and a sheet of loose leaf. These were the items that would be the final key to his mission.

I might as well keep it short and sweet just like my father did, Eli thought to himself. No one will care anyways. My mom will probably be glad in the long run.

He lifted up the pencil and began to write:

Dear mom,

I doubt you will even care when you find this note along side my mangled body. When dad left, life for me became a living hell as it did for you. Drugs and alcohol became the only thing that you loved and I became the thing that you hated. Over time, I began to turn into the being I despised as well. I guess we had something in common after all.

As I write this note, I recall each and every bruise that you bore upon me. I remember how each one in the beginning hurt until eventually I grew numb to the roaring pain. Every strike, every welt, every black and blue colored mark you left on my body was what I considered my daily routine. I was happy when I came home and found you passed out on the couch. It was only then that I thought I was safe.

However, it is now time that I take upon my own solution to this problem for I have learned it is not going to cease. And it is with these final words that I bid this world farewell.

Eli Goldsworthy

With a nod of approval, Eli began to fasten the rope into a noose. He placed it around his neck and made sure his head was a perfect fit. When it was, Eli headed downstairs.

He dragged a chair over towards the beam of the doorway that separated his kitchen and living room. He tied the rope around the strongly enforced piece of wood and tugged on it with all his weight to make sure his plan would not fail.

"It's time," Eli muttered to himself; his voice just above a whisper. He placed his head into the hanging rope and took an inhale of breath. With a flick of his wrist, the suicide note dropped onto the floor. He watched it with intensity and now that it had landed, it was his signal.

Eli hoisted his legs upward so they were no longer touching the chair and just as he was about to lunge them backwards into the chair, a loud banging noise was heard coming from the front door.

Eli froze as the thought of who it could be ran through his mind. However, he shook his thoughts away and pushed his legs into the back of the chair, toppling it to the ground. The force he felt on his neck was intense and he could feel the air withdrawing from his lungs; never to be filled again.

The urgent beating of his front door had ceased and Eli closed his eyes waiting for death to come upon him. However, he heard creaks as light illuminated his home from the front portion of the house. Shuffling of steps echoed across the floor as they made their way over to Eli.

He felt someone beside him and within a flash of a moment; he was in the arms of a girl; not as a corpse, but fully alive.