Elijah Goldsworthy sat at his desk. He had just gotten home from staying out all night. He had a write a piece of the play for school. He scoffed at the place, 'school'. He absolutely hated it. He wished it never existed because of what had happened between him and Clare a while back. The aching words repeated over and over in his mind like a record, ''Eli, i can't.'' She had ripped his heart out! He had crashed his favourite Hoarse, MORTY for her and yet what does he get? A broken heart.
When Clare had broken up with Eli, he...had slowly lost his sanity. He slowly slipped into depression, and he wasn't the type of person to express his feelings through words. So instead he did it through what he wore. He wore black clothing and painted his fingernails black. His eyes drooped open and he struggled to stay awake. He struggled to write. But it was just so hard, even without the pills he was supposed to take. He had to take anti anxiety pills because he got so stressed so easily. His lips curled into a scowl. He banged his fist against the desk.
''GOD DAMMIT!'' He yelled in anger. ''Why can't this be easier?" He growled. He was so frustrated and got angry easily. His moods were like an emotional rollercoaster without the pills he was supposed to take.
He let out a frustrated sigh and got up from the desk abruptly. He took the part of the script he had written and threw it on his bed. He lay next to it. He ran his fingers through his hair. He absolutely hated having writers block. He peered at the clock, and it read 4 am. He had stayed out until 4 am. His lips formed into a frown, and then back into it's regular shape. He threw his play writings onto the dresser and took his shoes off. He changed into pajamas, climbed into bed and fell asleep. He could worry about the play later.
A few hours later, Eli woke up to a loud bang. He jumped and walked slowly down the steps. He saw his mother and father. they were arguing over Eli. He hid behind the wall, still listening to their argument.
''It's YOUR fault Eli slipped into depression!'' Eli's mother bellowed at his father. Eli bit his lip. He never thought it was his father's fault, he thought it was all Clare's. Because of what she had done to him. She had left him all alone with no one to care for him, besides his parents who didn't do the best job. He jumped as he heard his father's loud, booming voice.
''MY FAULT?! It's your fault you go out every day and come drunk, beating our own son to death!'' His father insisted back at his mother. Though what his father said was true. His mom did go out almost every day and then came home drunk, beating Eli. He wore tight clothing and long sleeves to cover it up. He bit his lip. He couldn't take the arguing anymore.
He ran down the steps and in the middle of his parents. ''Stop arguing!'' he yelled. He was sick and tired of it. He hated to hear yelling everyday when he woke up in the morning. His parents looked at him, nodded at each other and then walked away. Eli let out a sigh of relief and then walked upstairs to his room. He got dressed in the usual, black shirt, longsleeve shirt, and long pants. He made sure the shirt was as tight as possible so no one noticed his bruises and cuts. He sighed, got his backpack and play writings and walked downstairs again. It was surprisingly quiet, but thought nothing of it and headed out the door to school.
He scowled as at least 20 minutes later he got to school. Everyone stared at him, for wearing such odd clothes. It was perfectly sunny out, but he ignored it. He didn't want to get in any trouble, so he walked inside the school and into the auditorium where the people were rehearsing for the play. He let out a sigh and walked over to Mrs. Dawes. He sat down next to her and handed her the play writings and she shook her head in disgust, in disappointment.
''What is this Eli?" She asked him. Eli shrugged. He really didn't feel like explaining anything today.
''My brain couldn't work, had writers block,'' He said and just shrugged it off. Mrs. Dawes sighed in disappointment and looked at Eli, who had a calm, emotionless look in his eyes.
''You could've worked harder,'' she told him. She began lecturing him and he soon began to grow frustrated. He banged his fist on the table they were sitting at.
''I know, Mrs. Dawes!'' He yelled. He saw everyone in the auditorium staring at him and he walked out in anger. He walked past everyone in the halls and out the school doors. He couldn't take any of the pain, the annoyance or the constant depression he felt. He walked past the school and inside a hidden forest he had found once when he was with Clare.
He sat on one of the rocks and scowled. He was so frustrated and fed up with everyone and everything. He got up and saw a tree. He grinned and walked up to it. He punched the tree in frustration.
''God dammit!'' He yelled out. ''Why...can't everything just be so easy in life and everything annoying pass me by?!'' He ended up almost repeating what he had said from last night when he was working on the play. He walked away from the tree, his fist now throbbing. He winced, but ignored the pain he felt. He sat back down on a rock and sat there in frustration. His hands were shaking and he just felt so angry at the world right now. Sure, he had slipped into depression, but he could still feel angry. But, not for long...
He was going to make sure that he ended his life soon....and soon enough before anyone realized what was up with him....