Well. Guys. Here's another chapter for you guys today! This one was five pages! Even though I worked seven hours today, I got two chapters done! I am so glad that I was able to do this. I hope you guys are too! I work only in the morning tomorrow, so I will have the whole afternoon and evening to write, so hopefully I am able to get another chapter out to you guys. I want to use this inspiration buzz while I have it, and it just keeps coming and coming. So, anyways, hope you guys enjoy! Read and Review!

Clare's POV

When I woke up the final time, it was still early. I could tell, because Holly J and Drew were back and just about everyone was asleep. It was me and Imogen who were awake, and even so, she looked ready to pass out. However, I was not. I didn't feel like going back to sleep. I was tired of the nightmares. I was tired of the lack of sleep. I just wanted to have it all go away.

I unraveled myself from Eli, making sure not to move him or for him to notice I was gone. Then I slid back into the corner opposite them, and watched the room. I sat there for about fifteen minutes before I saw Imogen pass out. That was when I got the idea. I wanted to go for a walk so, since everyone was asleep, I slid over to Eli. I quickly felt his pockets and found the keys.

I had to quietly remove them, without him feeling them. Then I stood up, and walked quickly out of the room. I unlocked the door, as quietly as possible, and then closed and locked it behind me. Then I went into the bathroom, and locked that door. I walked around for a bit, and then decided to check the progress of my stained shirt.

I lifted it out of the water, and examined it. Most of the blood was gone, but there was still the outline and what looked like faded, rusty color inside the outline. It would need to be bleached. I let the rest of the water drain out of the sink, and wrung my shirt until the excess water left it. Then I put it back in the sink and added hot water. I figured I could let it soak for a few more hours and then I would deal with the no shirt thing.

Tears started to well up in my eyes again, as I began to think about everything that has changed. How I would never go back to a normal life, even if I did ever get out of here. My best friend is dead. I'm falling for a guy who, in normal circumstances, I wouldn't date and then even if I did, my parents wouldn't approve of. I've been raped twice now. I've been beaten and hit. I've had multiple panic attacks that have stayed with me, and I'm having nightmares. I couldn't ever have a normal life.

Tears flew down my cheeks as I began sobbing. I wrapped my arms around my stomach, and leaned against the wall. I'm so tired of everything. I began feeling sadder and sadder, and I recognized the beginning of one of my "episodes". That was what my therapist always called them. They were different from my panic attacks. With panic attacks, I would fall into a small pit of despair and then images would overtake me and I would, typically, faint.

My "episodes" consist of my whole thought process becomes very dark and depressed. I can only think of wanting to die and hurting myself to feel anything other than the depression. They tend to happen when I'm in a situation that I can't control, or in a situation I don't want to be in. Which means now.

My therapist always told me that I wasn't bipolar so it's not like I am clinically crazy but it is definitely up in that ballpark. They just haven't put a name to it yet. Since I was starting to spiral into an episode, all I could think about was Alli. All I could think was that if I didn't meet K.C. then Alli would be alive right now. I don't think I could ever get over the fact that I got her killed.

I then stared down at the keys in my hand. The sobs weren't completely overtaking me anymore but they were still going strong. I wanted the pain cutting would cause. This way it could make me feel something other than the sadness I was feeling. Anything other than that. Staring the keys down, I shuffled through them. There were only a few on the ring, but I looked for the sharpest one.

At this moment, I wasn't looking for easy. I wasn't looking for hiding it. I just don't care at this moment. Finding the key that was the sharpest, I slid up the sleeve of the hoodie, and stared at my wrist. No one's questioned the scars on my wrist. Frankly, I don't think anyone's noticed them. I haven't cut for awhile. For months.

My therapist has been keeping me from cutting and giving me "creative outlets" to do instead. Like convincing me to join the school newspaper so I can have writing be an outlet to my emotions. Sadly, I know I would've cut sooner than this if I had had a reason too. Life has been pretty easy going since K.C. had left my life. No guy trouble. No friend trouble. Just Alli and I doing everything together.

The sadness of remembering that Alli is truly gone forever, made me press the key to my wrist and push down hard. I dragged it across my skin and realized that it cut pretty easily. I figured it would be more of a struggle. The cut wasn't much deeper than I normally did. So I didn't rush to the sink or rush to grab a paper towel.

I mainly just sat there. Wrist lying on the floor. I stared at it and watched the blood run onto the floor. I knew getting it on my clothes would be a lot harder to clean up than the floor. I figured since the door was locked that I could just quickly clean it up. Or I could drop the shirt on it and say that I dropped it.

What I didn't expect was the bathroom door to open and Eli to walk through it. There wasn't much more than a tiny puddle forming under my wrist, so I tried to cover it with the hoodie sleeve but Eli had already saw it.

"Clare!" He gasped and rushed to me but I frankly didn't really care at the moment. I just loved the rush of pain I was feeling. It made the dark and depressing thoughts running through my head, that much more bearable. Eli had grabbed the wad of paper towels that were still sitting on the sink from where Adam left them last night. He dropped in front of me and pressed them to the cut, and I tried to pull away but he wouldn't let go of my wrist. "Hold this on it." He demanded, and I complied. I hated the look of sadness and hurt that he was giving me.

He went back and sorted through the last of the supplies that he had set aside after cleaning up last night. He grabbed what looked like gauze and moist towelettes. He came back over and dropped in front of me again, and began working on cleaning my wrist. It was painful but it was a pain I embraced because it made me feel again. He didn't speak while he worked, he just focused on my wrist.

I, however, was studying him. I watched the frown on his face, and the sadness. It didn't look good on him. I didn't like him looking like that. When he finished, he cleaned up the floor swiftly, and then took the keys from me and went to the sink. He threw out the trash and rinsed the keys, before he put his hands on the edges of the sink and stared down at it.

He looked really, really sad and it made me regret cutting. I always felt horrible afterwards, but when I was in the depressed state, all I could think about was not feeling depressed anymore. After a few moments of him staring down at the sink, he turned to me. I could see the pain he was feeling. It reminded me so much of when Jake had found out that I was cutting. He had let me vent and cried when I told him my reasons. But I had hurt him a lot.

I was just afraid about how Eli would react. Would he get angry? Would he cry? I don't think I could handle him crying. Not over me. I remained silent as I waited for him to speak, I didn't really know what to say and I didn't really want to explain to him why I did what I did.

"Why, Clare?" Eli asked finally meeting my gaze. "Why did you do it?"

"I—I shouldn't have." I exhaled shakily, looking down at my gauze-wrapped wrist.

"No. No. I don't want to hear that. I want to know why." He retorted, walking over and sitting in front of me. "So. I'm here. Tell me why." He gestured for me to speak, but remained silent.

"I wanted to feel something." I sighed, looking at my wrist again. "I wanted out of all of this mess. I couldn't think. I couldn't control what thoughts did go through my mind. Honestly, there was nothing I could do." I explained. He looked confused but I remained silent.

"What do you mean?" He asked. He really looked like he was trying to understand.

"I get in these depressed states, and when I do, the only thing I have found to get me out of them when I am alone, is cutting." I answered.

"Are these connected to your panic attacks?" He asked.

"Maybe?" I shrugged. "My therapist was still figuring that out before I was kidnapped. For all I know, my parents could think that I am lying in a ditch somewhere because I got in one of these states and killed myself." I started sobbing again when I realized that that could be a very real possibility. "Oh god. They think I'm dead." I cried.

"It's okay, Clare." He stated, as he got up and moved to behind me. He ended up sitting behind me and helped me lay against his chest and cry into his shirt. He stroked my hair and murmured things in my ear again, but I didn't even try to hear them.

"I hate it here, Eli. It's all too much. I would've been okay dying from the blood loss. K.C. could dump my body somewhere, and at least my parents would know what happened to me." I cried harder. "I can't do this anymore."

"It's okay. I promise you, everything will be okay. I'll take care of you. You'll be okay." Eli rambled, continuing to say things in my ear. All I could think about was how sad his tone was and how hurt he looked earlier.

He let me cry a while longer, and lying with me on the ground. I faced away from him because I didn't want to look into his face, but he had me wrapped tightly in his arms. I cried and occasionally sobbed longer than I have in this place. It was all too much. I knew I didn't truly want to die, but I also didn't exactly want to live either.

I ended up falling asleep against him after I was completely drained from crying. Eli didn't move, he stayed with me the whole time. This was exactly what I needed. Someone who cared enough to get angry with me for hurting myself, but was able to realize that I was that unhappy. Eli was definitely what I needed. It's truly sad to think that we would never know each other without this horrible place.