I screwed up on my last chapter, surprise surprise.

I said it's been almost two years since Craig saw Ellie, but it's only been one year. My bad. :S

Inspired by Fall - He is We. Also a good song, check it out. (Kinda reminds me of the season 6 episode, "What's it feel like to be a ghost?" now that I think about it.)

Disclaimer: I do not own Degrassi.

Noon, September 10.

Where do I begin?

All my life I'd been the glue. I held my friends and my family together, and I was the one you turned to when everything was falling to pieces. I had to have everybody happy; even if that meant that I had to be unhappy. That's why I cut.

When I cut, I'm the one who controls the pain. I'm the one who chooses whether to go deeper or not. The vertical and horizontal lines all over my arms are like an escape; I don't have to worry about people around me or the crap going on in my life. It helps more than any therapist could.

I stopped cutting for a long time. Almost five years to be exact.

I started again about three months ago. I received a letter from Craig Manning, who had kissed me in Los Angeles and then didn't bother calling for six months. I ignored the letter, and gave into my depression and cut again. It was stupid, but I didn't care. It helped.

I also stopped going to group therapy, even though I had been going since sophomore year. Every year, about five high school kids would leave, and another five would arrive. And year after year, I would stick around. I've seen just about every problem a teenager could have; drug problems, eating disorders, family problems, and the occasional cutter like me. I decided to stop going because no one really wanted to hear the same thing every week from me. I felt like I was boring everyone with my stupid problems.

I opened my eyes and regretted it the second I saw how blindingly bright it was in my bedroom. It was noon, and I had slept through a breakfast date I had with my best friend, Marco Del Rossi. I groaned and sat up in bed, rubbing my eyes violently to get the sleepiness out of my system. I had three missed texts from Marco, all of which sounded very angry. Ever since my relapse, I didn't feel like hanging out with anyone at all, let alone Marco. He wouldn't understand.

He knew about the letter which I hadn't read, and it seemed like every time we hung out after I received the letter he would bug me to open it. He eventually gave up, and probably assumed I had thrown it out. It was still on my bedroom floor in its envelope. I refused to open it.

I heard a knock on my door, and pulled my covers up over my left arm, which was covered in criss-crossed lines from cutting. The door cracked open, and Marco entered with a concerned look on his face.

"Why is it that every time we have plans, you sleep through them?" He crossed his arms and gave me a disappointed look. I sighed. "I'm sorry Marco. I've been tired." I was telling the truth. I didn't have the energy to do anything lately.

"El, you've been cooped up in this room since June. You need to get out of here and do something fun." He sat at the foot of my bed, and pulled two pieces of brightly coloured sheets of paper out of his messenger bag. "There's a music festival downtown, and I hear a certain Miss Ashley Kerwin will be playing there tonight. Come with me, we haven't seen Ash in forever. And plus, it would do you good to get out of here." He passed me one of the tickets. "Marco, I don't know..." I looked at the ticket and tried to think of a way to get out of it.

"You owe me Eleanor! You've skipped out on our plans way too many times, and you're not getting out of this one. I was talking to Ashley, and she misses you to death." Marco looked at me through two pools of brown, which urged me to say yes.

I gave in. "Fine. I'll go, but only because your puppy dog look is almost impossible to say no to." I sat up a bit straighter, even though my posture was horrible.

Marco clapped his hands together excitedly."Yays! I'll swing by and pick you up at around eight, okay?" He looked genuinely happy. There you go again, Nash. Tip toeing around everyone else's feelings just to make them happy. I sighed.

Marco kissed me on the cheek, smiled and almost skipped out of my room. "Wear something cute, Nash. There could be a cute boy or two there, and you could find yourself a man tonight." He winked, and left me alone again.

I highly doubt that will ever happen.

I lay back down in my bed, pulled my covers up over my head, and lost myself in another dream.