First off I want to say that this is NOT a religious story or anything to that nature. Yes I do talk about things in this opening chapter, but that is by no means at all the basis of this story. If anything that I say comes off offensive I apologize ahead of time, that truly is NOT my intent. This story is going to be a bit darker than my others. No worries though I am still working very hard on Suddenly Someone as well as a few other things here and there, including the Tell Her sequel. I came up with this idea for a story a couple weeks ago when I started going through some rough times in my life. It starts off very dark but I promise it doesn't stay that way.

This is my first story written entirely in Elliot's POV. I really hope you guys enjoy this and stick with me on this one. Be honest with me about it though. I am always open for your thoughts. I love them actually.

Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order SVU or any of its characters. This was written for fun not profit. They belong to Dick Wolf.

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Chapter One

It is hard for me to believe that their isn't a person who gets to a point in their life where they seem to lose faith. Not just in God, but in themselves, their choices, their lives, their friends, and everything around them. You find yourself in this dark place, this hole buried deep within the earths core, and it seems no matter how hard you try, no matter how high you climb, you can never seem to find the way out. You try and find the good in life, you try and find the point to your existence, but it feels as though it has become nothing but a blurred smudge on the page of that chapter of your life's story.

I find myself arguing with God a lot lately. Well, maybe it isn't God I am arguing with, maybe it is just the voices in my head. The never ending contradictions that have made their home in my mind. Yelling at me, telling me how I am a failure one minute, and to not give up hope the next. Often times I find myself grabbing at my skull trying to make them stop. Trying to find just a moment of piece from myself. Do you have any idea how hard it is to fight a battle with your own mind? I always felt that I had enough armour to protect me from anything, but lately, my armour is running thin. Lately I find that I am in dire need for reinforcements.

As I sit here in this pew alone, in this house of God, I find myself not praying. Not asking God for His guidance, not asking Him for a miracle, or for Him to answer my prayers. Rather I am asking Him to find me again. Asking Him to help me find myself again. Twelve years of Catholic school, and a life time of church going, and I still find it hard to have complete faith in God. I still question His existence. Especially in times like these. How could God torture the many innocent people that I have come to see over the years in my job. How can God make a person hate themselves, and their lives so much, that all hope is lost and life doesn't seem worth living? If we are His children, how could He do that to us?

I can't help but laugh at my hypocritical ideals right now. I sit here asking for God to help me find myself again, and in the same breath, roll my eyes that He is even there at all. A part of me knows that He is there, and this just a test of my faith in not just Him by myself. I just wish He didn't have so much faith in me. I don't have that much faith in myself. Still, I have to hold onto something. I have to believe that there is a reason for why I am feeling this way. A reason for me going through this dark place in my life right now.

My thoughts are suddenly interrupted by the sound of the Church doors opening, and people filing in to prepare for six am Mass. It is my cue to leave. I stand up and walk up to the alter. I genuflect before it and cross myself.

"In the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen."

I walk down the isle past the Sunday morning rush of church goers. Not looking any of them in the eye. Hoping that none of them see how much my life is truly broken.

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My apartment is dark when I open the door. Boxes are still piled all over my living room which consists of nothing but a pull out couch, a small TV set that its on the floor, and a coffee table. The only things I have seemed to unpack other than my clothes for work are the two small picture frames that sit on my coffee table. One is of my children. My five beautiful children who give me whatever strength it is I have left. I live and breath for my children. Whenever I feel like giving up I think of them and I know that I can't do it. The other is of me with my best friend, and partner, Olivia. I would be so lost without her. When she found out that Kathy and I were getting divorced again she didn't judge me. She didn't ask a million questions. She just gave me a hug, and told me it would be okay. At the time I believed her, but now I am not so sure.

I walk into the kitchen and grab an empty glass and the bottle of scotch. It is not even six thirty in the morning, but it doesn't matter to me. I pour the liquid in the glass and throw it into my throat, repeating the action before I even have a chance swallow the first glass. As I feel the warm alcohol run down my throat I can't help but start to hate myself a little bit more for being so weak. I slam the glass down onto the counter and walk over to the vacant living room. I sit down onto the couch grabbing the picture frames on my way. I hug the frames close to my chest and try and concentrate on the people within them. The smiles of their faces and the joy that the six people within them bring to me. I close my eyes and try and fight it, but the tears begin to fall down my face anyway. My father always told me that only the weak cry, only pansy's cry, but does it count if no one is there to see your tears?

The tears begin to take over and I find myself curled up with my knees to my chest. Sobbing uncontrollably and I'm not even sure why. Seeing myself like this only makes the hurt sting more. A grown man should not be acting this way. A grown man shouldn't be so lost and confused for what feels like no reason. I have always been the one to stay strong and have faith in whatever life threw at me. Always the one to never show emotion, never let my self pity take over my life. The person that others went to for protection and comfort; not the one who so desperately needed it.

As I sit here now in my dark apartment, feeling the effects of my morning shot, I start to wonder if I will ever find that person again. If I will ever be anything but shattered pieces of my old self scattered on the floor.

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TBC

Okay so that was just a tiny snip-it of the story to give you guys a feel for it. I have a lot written already. Just kind of scrambled around stuff that I have to piece together. So what do you guys think? Be honest. I know this was really dark, but like I said...it doesn't stay that way. I promise. I am too perky to stay this depressing lol

PLEASE review. I really really love your comments and advice.

NOTE: I'll have an update posted for Suddenly Someone later tonight. ;cD