Sorry..?

How?

"Eli are you okay?" his mom questioned. Her eyes were opened wide as her teeth clamped down on pieces of her untrimmed nails. Eli had draped his thick burgundy blanket over his body, in an attempt to rest his eyes after getting ready. Eli's curly hair started to peek up out of the blanket, slowly inviting his face along with the rest of his body to be bombarded with cold air that snuck in at night, while the window was open.
"Good morning mom, I'm fine," he reassured her as he shuts the window forcing the cold air to retreat or be conquered by the heat that began to swarm in.
"Good morning, breakfast is downstairs, but that isn't what I came up here to talk about.  As you may already know you father is already at work and I will be leaving soon, for work as well.  I just wanted to remind you about your essay, deadlines approach faster than expected do not be caught off guard," she stated firmly. The atmosphere of the room changed almost like if the cold had come back for round two. 
Eli's mother had always had a tendency to slip into her "work voice" which unfortunately for Eli happened  to be colder and more distant than they way she usually spoke to him. He could only wonder how his mother could even think about work right now let alone slip into that tone. Eli took in a breath before replying.
"Actually...I'm going to help grandpa go through grandma's belongings after school, now that grandma has passed he really needs me,"  Eli whispered. Her eyes sprung open, her shoulders tensed, and she almost dropped her phone, but managed to recompose herself in seemingly less than a second. She heard. Eli's mother nodded with a smile as she left his room, closing the door behind her.
Elli's gaze is immediately pulled towards the picture with his grandpa, grandma, and his mother, Eli's father was busy working that day. The picture was at a ski resort last winter, in a mahogany wood frame laced with a few flowers they somehow managed to find that winter.   Wherever his grandma was there was always life and light, except for now as she is surrounded by death and darkness, in this seemingly never ending hole we call a grave. The grave that took advantage of the moment she was gone to swallow her up for eternity and feast on the happiness of her loved ones as a bonus.
He managed to heave himself from his thoughts only for his eyes to be immediately forced to a yellow post it note. "You're fourteen, don't let your future be ruined because of your procrastination. Especially when it's a paper about something as simple about who you are and what you can contribute. Finish the essay-MOM". He froze he could feel his nails piercing the palm of his hand. Suddenly his blood was scorching hot taking away any trace of cool air that may have lingered.
       The young man grabbed his backpack and walked downstairs. Causing the floor around him to tremble, vases just barely keeping balance and pictures to hold on for dear life . He didn't even glance at his mother as he slipped on his shoes, slammed the door behind him, and hauled himself to school. Grief and procrastination are not the same thing.