Note: I do not believe any of what I have wrote here. I feel that Imogen is manipulative, and she's hurting him, whether she truly believes she's helping or not. I'm not going to get into it here, but that is where I stand with her. The below is me trying to worm my way into Eli's head; feel what he feels, see what he sees. Put myself in his shoes. I in no way agree with any of what this implies. I'm not usually into writing depressing drabbles such as this, but...nevertheless, I hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer: I very obviously do not own Degrassi, nor do I own the song that inspired this one shot, Whiter Straighter by Adaline.

Eli Goldsworthy was free.

He was finally free. He had long been off his meds; taking a few here and there just to keep his parents unsuspecting. Other then that, his mind was free to roam nowhere and everywhere. His emotions were free to float up and spiral down in a true stretch of sanity, dancing along the edge of a dangerous cliff that he paid no mind to. Why should he, when he felt this creative? This powerful? He had finished his play. It had come together quite nicely, with the help of Imogen.

Imogen. He felt himself smile wickedly. She was the one who had helped him realize all of this - she was the one who had helped him see. See that his creative slump was caused by his mind-numbing pills, see that Clare Edwards had never really cared for him, see that she was the only one that understood.

She was the only one that cared.

Adam didn't care; Eli saw it in his eyes. That dissapproving look that crossed onto his face whenever he brought up anything regarding the play was enough for him to see that. Clare didn't care; she was too busy sucking off Jake Martin's face in the hallways. She never had, of course, so she had no reason to start now. His parents didn't care, either. They were constantly checking on him, constantly drilling him. How many pills have you taken today? Where were you after school? Who were you with? What were you doing? All they cared about was his normality. No one else asked about his play. No one else asked if he felt alright. No one else was guiding him, encouraging him.

Imogen was the only one that believed in him. And for that, he would be eternally grateful. He knew she liked him. It was obvious in the way she talked, the way she touched him. The way she laughed at the things he said. Though he wasn't sure he felt the same way, there was something interesting about her that made him feel strange - and he embraced it. He let her have what she wanted; it was the least he could do for her. He may not have been able to reciprocate the light, easy feelings she seemed to have for him, but she was trying to put him back together. She was trying to be there for him. Wouldn't he be an idiot to pass that up?

Their first kiss had been only days prior. It was unexpected on his part, but he was the one who had initiated it. Imogen had been talking, engrossed in the ending of the script they had just finished. Eli wasn't quite able to even process his split-second decision before he had shot forward, capturing her lips in mid-sentence. It had been nice, of course, the feeling of a pair of lips eagerly kissing him back, a hand pressed to the side of his face. The smell of light perfume invading his senses as he pulled her just the slightest bit closer. It would have been perfect, almost.

Almost.

He couldn't help but let Clare slip into his thoughts, and dammit, how he had felt the first time he had kissed her. Even off of his pills, he couldn't help but remember everything. Miss it. Because though Imogen made him content, the kiss they shared in that moment held none of what Clare had made him feel - and he hated that. He hated that so much. He hated her.

Before he could regret it, Eli had pulled away, leaving a melting Imogen in his wake. Her dark eyes shone with delight, a wide smile revealing a perfect row of teeth as she stroked his cheek with her thumb.

"I like you, Eli Goldsworthy," she had breathed.

"I know."

"I think we're good together, you know? I understand you."

"You're the only one who does." Eli flinched mentally at the truth those words held, but held a steady gaze with the girl sitting in front of him.

"You can get over Clare, Eli. In time. With me. You'll see that I'm good for you."

"I know that you are," he whispered. Imogen's smile grew.

"What do you say, we make it offcial, then?" The question was a test. He didn't know it, but it was. It was time to see if all she had done for him would pay off.

He thought about this. It would be good. She would be good. With Imogen behind him, he could face his demons head-on. She would have her way, and he would have someone there for him. At least one girlfriend wouldn't unexpectedly drop out of his life, and leave him to cope all alone with the damage. Imogen knew what she was getting into, and she welcomed it. This relationship...it would make him better, wouldn't it? He wanted to get better. He wanted to prove that he could be a normal guy.

"What have I got to lose?" He said shakily.

Maybe the rest of your sanity.

The thought was quick and unexpected, and he shoved it away angrily. In need of distraction, he pulled Imogen back to him, kissing her again. She was enthralled, he could tell. Joyous. He should have felt the same, the exact same. He should have felt new and happy. He was leaving Clare and the rest of his stupid past behind. He was free. He was free, goddammit. Everything was supposed to fall into place.

That night, as his mind drifted between sleep and reality, his subconcious whispered what he could not bring himself to admit.

No matter how much hope he tried to force himself to have, everything was going to fall apart.

So...this sucked. Honestly I'm not really sure what this is or where it came from. Most of my stories usually revolve around a plot, and this one focuses on Eli's thoughts. It's kind of scrambled and the ending is weak, but oh well. Writing though Eli's eyes kind of helps me understand better. :\