A/N: Hi everyone, it's Emma here. I hope you're doing well. This chapter... well, I'll just leave it at that. Enjoy.
Rating: EXTREME Trigger Warning this chapter. I cannot stress it enough. If you are struggling with depression and are worried that this chapter might trigger something, PLEASE do not read it. You can wait until the next chapter and it will fill in the blanks, I promise. Don't read this chapter if it's going to bring up bad memories, all of you are too cute to be sad.
Disclaimer: We don't own Degrassi or the song Sight Of The Sun by FUN.
Summary: As the days go by, Eli Goldsworthy continues to relive his past, the flashbacks of what used to be following him wherever he goes. As he begins his new life, it's only a matter of time before the old one comes back to haunt him.
"I've got troubled thoughts and self-esteem to match, what a catch, what a catch." What A Catch, Donnie | Fall Out Boy
He'd been counting the beats of his heart, stopping and starting over when he began to lose track. His eyes were sunken, dark circles forming underneath and cascading along the tops of his cheek bones. He was, at this point, nearly hysterical with sleep deprivation.
He wasn't sure how he didn't see it all coming. Being with Clare usually made him feel so safe, so at peace, but when his thoughts couldn't seem to be put to a halt, he knew it was just like everything else, and he couldn't use her that way. Then his mother, though she only repeated the things he'd known from the beginning, Eli couldn't deny that he'd always hoped she still loved him the way she used to.
Wishful thinking, he now knew, but it all seemed to make sense to him before.
After the night with Clare, in his delirium, he hadn't even brought the car home from her house. He'd walked home in his state of fear, and blocked the whole thing out when his panic attack came to its end. Clare sent him a text message that night, telling him about the car, and about how her mother was starting to ask questions, and though it pained him to drag himself out of bed, he did get up to move it when no one was around. But that was four days ago, and he had barely moved since.
…
Clare Edwards let out a low breath at the sight of Adam standing alone. This would be the fifth time that week that Eli had missed school, and the very thought of him being cooped up in his bedroom made the girl break out into chills. Drew had obviously gotten a ride with some friends from the team, and it was becoming more and more evident that Adam had grown rather fond of his cousin, feeling a little uncomfortable without having someone to talk to when Clare wasn't around.
"No Eli, huh?"
"No Eli." Adam told her tiredly, sparing her the details of how he'd woken up to find Eli staring blankly at Great Expectations, the bandages around his wrists poking out through his sleeves. He was exhausted, utterly drained from spending the week worrying about his cousin, and if he was being honest with himself, Adam had never felt this scared.
He knew something was bothering Eli, he always knew something was a little different about him, but after he'd heard what happened downstairs when Cece started shouting, he wasn't quite sure if the boy would be able to bounce back again.
"It sounds pretty bad…" he'd told Clare over the phone just a few days prior, listening outside his door to try and make something out, but the voices faded quickly and he decided not to listen anymore, knowing that what was happening was probably pretty bad, and Eli would want to tell him about it himself if he had something to say. Though it wasn't like he'd ever done that before.
It was a real challenge now, trying to get him to talk, and part of him had hoped maybe it was like when he'd just moved in, how he'd been reserved but willing to say a few words here and there.
It wasn't like that.
Occasionally, Eli would murmur something under his breath when he left their room to head into the bathroom for hours, and though Adam wanted to interject and ask what he was doing in there in a teasing way to draw a laugh from his friend, he was afraid that he already knew the answer.
"I've been texting him, no responses though." Clare sighed, feeling horribly guilty about the entire ordeal. She knew it was selfish to think this way, but she couldn't help but wonder if she'd done something to make him feel so down. Everything seemed to be going well before they almost kissed, but perhaps it was just her hopeful thinking, perhaps she hadn't been able to see how hurt he'd really been.
"I'm sure he's okay, just having one of his slumps." Adam assured her, his lips pulling into their signature smile, and he nudged his friend's arm playfully as they boarded the bus.
…
Eli watched the words on the page, as if expecting them to shift and change, to tell him something he didn't yet know. They remained the same, though, only taunting him further. Reminding him of what could've been. Reminding him of how simple everyone's lives could have been if he'd just gone through with it. If he'd just been able to pull the trigger.
He licked his lips as his fingertips grazed the corners of the page, turning it and grimacing to himself at the passage he'd written especially for Julia.
I don't want to be another statistic, I just want to be with you.
Eli could've laughed at the sick irony of it all, wondering what had ever happened to make him such a miserable human being. He waited for a while, waited for the front door to close just one last time, to signify that Audra or Omar had left for work. But he heard a gentle knock on his door instead, and he didn't make a sound, hoping they'd leave if they thought he was asleep.
"Eli? Eli, your mother is coming with me to work today. Call if you need anything, alright?" His aunt told him softly, her stern voice sounding almost unnatural when using a comforting tone.
He nodded, making brief eye contact before rolling onto his side and pulling the covers over his body once more. He couldn't bring himself to look at her, or anyone for that matter. He just couldn't be bothered.
Audra had come up to check on him here and there, leaving plates of food on his bedside table that typically remained the same when she came back up to take the plate away. She was worried, he could see, and he knew all at once where Adam got this trait. This sort of hidden empathy, only showed through a random act of kindness.
His heart picked up speed as the sound of their footsteps slowly faded, and he felt his entire form slump even further when the door slammed closed.
Alone again.
He didn't fight off these thoughts any longer.
He shut his eyes.
He let them consume him.
Audra and his mother had taken the Torres family van on their trip out for the day, leaving Eli with total advantage to take the car out for a spin. Grabbing the keys off of the hook, Eli sulked his way out to his old car. He always hated this car, the old, 1999 Honda Civic that looked like nothing anyone in his family would buy. It was all they could afford at the time, with Eli's father's surgeries costing so much money. Eli missed his own car, a hearse that he and his father had found at a junkyard and fixed up for him. Eli could remember the day he came home from school to find his car not in its usual spot in the driveway. He could remember the disappointed look on his father's face.
"Once I get better, I'll buy it back, I promise. Right now it's just tough, kiddo."
Everyone knows how that worked out. Or, how it didn't work out.
Eli lazily drove around Toronto, not really caring about how slow he was driving, or how he didn't know where he was going, anyway. He thought about how if he slipped up while driving, got into a crash and died, it wouldn't really matter anyway. It'd be beneficial, actually.
He cruised around for what seemed like forever, finally stopping at the lake they'd all visited. There was something about that lake that always brought him comfort, or, at least the thought of it. He parked where they had before, wandering around aimlessly until he reached that shabby old dock that the three of them had sat on. Eli walked onto it, hands stuffed deep into his pockets as he came to the edge, staring down at his reflection below.
He thought to himself, how if the water was deeper – he might just jump. Fall feet first into darkness and let the water swallow him up. But he never really liked water. He didn't want something he didn't like to be the reason he'd let himself go.
"This is stupid." He said out loud, kicking his heel against the creaky wood. "This is so stupid."
Eli wouldn't admit it, but he was referring to himself.
He grabbed a few stones off of the sandy ground, skipping them through the water like he'd watched Clare and his cousin do the night they'd visited the lake. Things seemed a lot easier, then. For some reason he thought things were getting better, then. He shouldn't have been so naïve.
He sat, letting his legs hang off the edge of the dock. Being out of school the past week had given him some time to reflect. It was in moments like these where he wondered why he ever went at all. Maybe to keep him slightly sane; the constant being alone was setting him on the brink of insanity, though he was already halfway there.
Clare called him a lot, he'd noticed. She sent him a couple texts a day just to let him know she was thinking about him, and that she'd be there when he was ready to come back to school. She was so kind, and Eli appreciated it. But he was never going to go back to school. He hated to make her worry, but what was he supposed to do? He couldn't just open up, tell her the truth, let her know how the suicidal thoughts were swarming around in his head again. He couldn't allow her to be worried about him, she was too good for that.
She was too good for pity.
Eli finally drove home, feeling significantly more miserable this time than he had when he had arrived at the lake. All of these feelings were taking a toll on him, and if he had known what kinds of demons were waiting for him when he arrived home – he would have driven around forever.
It was midafternoon when he'd pulled the car into the driveway and slugged himself through the front door. Adam would be home soon, so would Audra and his mother. By that time, he'd need to be in his room, curled up in the blankets in the same position everyone had left him. They didn't need to know that he had been out and about, that might worry them more.
Carefully, Eli slipped back into the house, hanging up the keys on their hook and climbing the stairs up to his bedroom. His legs felt like weights holding him down, almost as if telling him not to go upstairs. Going upstairs was a bad idea. Going upstairs would be his demise.
He crawled back into bed, shoes and all; too tired to untie the laces and put them neatly next to his dresser like he always did. The dire need for routine always went a long way.
His heart ached.
This was the lowest he had felt all week.
This must have been what hell felt like.
He rolled onto his side, longing to somehow fall asleep in his own misery. Eli would endure the nightmares if they were bearable. He was so exhausted. Life was too exhausting.
Give in, jackass.
There's a razor in the bathroom, don't act like you haven't used it before.
Cut, cut, cut. Fucking piece of shit. You're a piece of shit.
There were the voices again. They were getting louder, like they're coming after him.
FUCK! KILL YOURSELF ALREADY.
They're as loud as they had been a few years back, when the gun was pressed tightly against the temple of his cheek. Everything had gone to shit, now.
There was nothing holding him back from giving into the voices anymore. CeCe didn't want him around, she had made that quite clear from her drunken rage. Clare could manage without him, go on as if she had never met him in the first place. Adam would grow up around it all, like a plant that is bent in the wrong place. He'd be a little fucked up, but he'd still be able to last.
Eli sat up, throwing his legs off of the side of the bed and looking around his room. Things were so dark right now. If he were going to get it over with – it had to be now. He scrambled out his bedroom door, checking down the hall to make sure no one was around. He knew there wasn't anyone, but he double checked anyway. Then, he tripled checked.
In terror, he slammed the door to the bathroom shut, his only viable safe place. His vision was blurred. Eli, if you're ever feeling bad – you have my number. I just want you to know… I'm here. Fuck, he wanted to call her. But he just couldn't. Not yet.
The voices make it harder to concentrate. Looking in the bathroom mirror makes it obvious now how pathetic he is. He hates himself. He's about to take things too far and at the moment, he doesn't even know it.
YOU ARE WORTHLESS.
"Shut up!" Eli shouted, clutching his ears, falling to the floor in fear. When he doesn't have to see himself, it helps; only a little. "Shut up, shut up, shut the fuck up!" He swore. In a hazy rage, he grasped for his phone in the back of his pocket. He scrolled through his contacts. He dialed a number
The phone number you have dialed has been disconnected, or is no longer in service. Please hang up and try again.
Oh.
It was gone now.
Julia was gone.
There was no more listening to her voice mailbox when he was desperate. There was nothing left of her besides vague memories. Of fights. And arguments. And kisses. And passion and sex.
Julia was just an image now.
The voice mailbox was gone now, but he pretended as if it was still there. He held the phone to his ear, the long, monotone ring being the only thing he could hear.
"Jules?" He whispered. "Julia? Are you there? Please pick up, please, I need you. Please…" He was speaking to nothing as if all of his prayers would answer. "Okay," he said, finally coming to the realization that she was not going to answer, that she had never answered since she had died. "Okay, I get it. I can't keep holding on to you; to this phone number. You are gone now, but I need it. I need you. I'm sorry I wasn't good enough. I never was, but I tried, doesn't that matter?" He laughed only a little, at his own stupidity. "I'm going now. For good. I won't call anymore. I'll stop bothering you. I'll see you later, okay?"
Click.
Eli wobbled to his feet, his eyes hazy, but he could still make out himself in the mirror. There was sweat dripping down his face, but it was nothing like tears; nothing to tell him if he was feeling like he should. Anyone else would be bawling their eyes out about now, right? Why couldn't he cry!? What made him so fucking different?! He had thought it was the pills that were refusing to let him cry –
The pills.
His eyes darted to the door, creaking it open just a tiny bit to get a glance at his empty room. No one was home, he had no reason to be stealthy.
If he could just take a handful or two, it could numb out the bad things. It could make him feel light.
Before he even knew it, he was throwing things around in his drawers, Great Expectations being tossed out of the way, all of his little notes flying around the room. He didn't have time to write new goodbye notes this time, the old ones would have to suffice. But then he wouldn't have a letter for Clare. He wouldn't be able to explain why he'd acted so strangely in the car, or why even with all her help, he was still giving up. Giving up. No, no. He was giving in.
There was only one thing to do; Eli had to call her. He may have been a disoriented mess, a self-hazardous machine, only out to cause himself more pain, but this was different. Clare had to know he was sorry. Or at least that he wanted to be.
He managed to get back into the bathroom, his three pill bottles in his hands being dropped onto the sink. One by one, his shaky fingers unscrewed the caps and poured into his palm the dozens of untaken pills. He swallowed as many as he could, washing them all down with water from the tap. Halfway there, he was halfway there. But he'd heard stories of pill induced suicides going wrong, and he couldn't let this be the only thing taking him downhill.
Quick, he thought, they'll be home soon. They'll be home soon and you can't be here when that happens.
Eli went through the medicine cabinet, picking up the razor he had hidden behind a box of Batman Band-Aids. That could get the job done. With the mixture of his dizzy mind and the slashes of his wrists, he'd be a goner, he was sure of it. They couldn't save him, could they?
Eli sat down in the bathtub, his heart pounding and his vision blurred. In his left hand was his cell phone, and in his right, the small piece of metal that would soon be his demise.
Slash.
Dial.
SLASH.
Ringringring.
He dropped the razor, it making somewhat of a loud noise on the ceramic tub. Downstairs, he could hear the front door unlocking and opening. He had about fifteen minutes before Adam would drag himself upstairs to put his backpack away and maybe use the bathroom. Eli didn't want Adam to find him like this. But he was already past the point of no return.
Click – "Eli! Hey!" Clare's voice snapped him out of the trance he was setting into. She sounded so happy to hear from him, and it made his spine shiver. Calling Clare was a bad idea, he was sure of it. But he had to say goodbye.
"Hey." He said groggily. The pills were kicking in, slowly but surely.
"I just got home, I was actually about to come over for movie night."
Shit.
It was Friday.
It was movie night.
SHIT. Clare was supposed to come over.
Panicking, Eli shifted his position so he could sit up more, blood gushing out of his sliced wrists. "What? No, no. Don't come over." Eli insisted, shaking his head rapidly though she couldn't see. "Whatever you do, don't come over, Clare."
"What…?" Eli could sense the confused, yet, concerned tone in her voice, knowing he had probably frightened her a bit. "Eli, are you okay?"
"I just wanted to talk to you, that's all." His voice shook with a fear that was starting to overcome him. "I just wanted to hear your voice."
"Well, silly, I could just come over and you could hear my voice. You know, in person. I miss you –"
"No," he said sternly, "I don't want you to come over. You can't come over."
The girl was silent for a moment, as if his comment was alarming to her. It was, of course. "Did I do something wrong?"
No, of course she hadn't. Clare Edwards never did anything wrong. Hadn't she recognized yet that all the faults were Eli's? That he was bubbling over with insanity every time he opened his mouth? Poor, stupid, naïve Clare, always seeing the good in people. There was nothing good about Eli Goldsworthy.
"No, no, Clare. It's not you. It's me." Eli assured her. "You're amazing, Clare, you really are." His left arm had started to go numb as the blood poured out of his cut, soaking his shirt and jeans. "I've made such a mess, Clare. I'm such a mess. I'm such a fucking mess…" Eli stopped, his breathing finally catching up to him, the hyperventilation's he often had in moments of despair coming head on. There was a tingling, just between his nose and his eyes that started, a feeling he hadn't felt in a very long time. "I want you to be my girlfriend, you know. But not now, not when I'm like this. I'm not ready. I have to sort things out. I'm not good enough to be your boyfriend. You deserve someone that is emotionally stable and – fuck."
His cell phone fell into the tub, sticky blood dripping from his right arm directly onto its screen.
"I'm such a mess," he cried again, "I'm making such a mess."
Eli's cheeks were wet and warm. He hadn't remembered what it felt like to cry. "I'm crying." He muttered, his weightless arm raising to feel his tear stained cheeks. "I can't believe it, I'm crying." He laughed, as if there was humor in this situation, when in actuality there was nothing funny about it at all. "I'm finally crying. I'm real." He cried more, long and hard and possibly loud all to himself. He sobbed and sobbed, letting out all he had been holding in. In final moments he'd finally been able to feel like he always wanted to.
He realized that if he had only been able to cry an hour ago, none of this would have happened.
"I'm sorry Clare," he cried out, heaving uncontrollably. "I wanted to try and not give up but I'm not good enough. I'm so fucking stupid. I'm so sorry."
Clare had hung up long before, sensing that there was something seriously wrong. She dialed Adam's number, calling and calling until he finally picked up.
"Something's wrong with Eli." She had spat out.
"I'm sure he's fine, he's probably in our room." Adam assured her.
"No, Adam! Something is seriously wrong!"
The door to the bathroom creaked open.
Shit.
Eli had forgotten to lock it.
"Clare, you're overreacting. I'll bet you a hundred dollars he's sitting on his bed reading Great Expectat –"
It was the most terrifying thing Adam had ever seen in his entire life, his cousin, slumped over in a heap in his own blood, looking so utterly miserable. His cell phone hit the floor as he scrambled to the bathtub in fear.
"Eli, oh my God. Eli, fuck! What were you thinking!?" Adam grabbed his phone off of the floor, immediately ending the call with Clare to dial 911. "Stay awake, Eli! Don't fucking fall asleep, shit!" Tears poured down Adam's cheeks as he tried to lift his cousin up to see his face.
"911, what is your emergency?"
"My cousin – he's tried to kill himself, I – I, I don't know if he's still alive. Help, just like – send help, please."
The woman on the other end alerted him they were tracking his location and would send someone out immediately, telling Adam that she would stay on the line if he liked. But Adam hardly noticed her, trying to wake his cousin out of an eternal sleep.
"Eli, say something, please, fuck, you're scaring me, man."
Eli's eyes opened, only slightly, to see his cousins face drenched in tears just like his own. "I'm sorry, Adam. I'm so sorry. You've been so nice to me and I've been so stupid."
"No, no, you haven't been stupid. I've been stupid, I should have seen this coming I – I should have. I promised I'd keep an eye out for you and I fucked up so badly." Adam promised, moving the sweat and tear covered bangs out of his cousin's eyes. "You're going to make it, okay? Don't fall asleep; the ambulance will be here in a few minutes."
Eli groaned, tossing and turning slowly as if to tell his cousin no, that he didn't want this. "I don't deserve to make it out of this."
"Yes you do! You fucking do, you magnificent bastard, you're worth it for fucks sake!"
"I love you, Adam." Eli promised, more tears starting to find their way out of his eyes. "I'm sorry."
Adam shook his head, his hands grasping onto the edges of the tub. "I love you too, man, and you're going to make it out of this. I fucking swear it."
The pills started to reject from Eli's system, causing him to throw up, adding to the mess he'd made in the tub. He cried harder. Both of them cried harder. "I'm a mess; I'm such a mess."
Adam called his mom.
The ambulance showed up.
Everything moved so fast, the younger boy could hardly keep up. Watching his cousin be carried downstairs on a stretcher, drenched in his own blood and vomit was one of the most horrifying things he had ever seen before. Adam knew he wouldn't be able to sleep that night, or tomorrow night – or for the next week, even. He'd develop the same kind of insomnia his cousin had taken on if Eli didn't make it through this.
Fuck – Eli had to make it through this.