Extricating Eli

Letter one

I sat quietly in a corner of the partially filled house, everyone trying to busy themselves to be distracted from the pain. Some people tried joking around but it was empty. Some tried to eat food but merely pushed it around on their plates. All this to try to avoid the elephant in the room. Eli was gone. There. I said it. He is gone. And here I was sitting in his house like we had been bestfriends. At least that's what his mother assumed when I introduced myself . I glanced over at her. She was hunched over in a chair silently shaking as she cried. There was a hoard of older women around her saying , repeatedly, 'it's going to be ok'. But we all knew it was a lie. It's not going to be alright. Eli wasn't happy. He was sad. Depressed. And everyone in this house knew it. We did nothing to save him from himself. If you havent figured it out, our dear friend Eli ended his life about a couple of days ago. He did it on a Sunday night. When we got to school the following morning, we were informed that grief counselors would be brought in to help us through this difficult, tragic time. That day, as I walked through the hallways, all I saw were people crying and consoling each other.

"Oh my god, Amy, I can't believe this."

"He will be missed, he was a good guy."

And all throughout the day I heard people talk about him as if he was a major part in their lives. The truth? No one paid him any attention. He was a loner. Not by choice I'm sure, but a loner all the same. I'm not going to lie to make myself look better by saying I tried to be friends with him. I was just like everyone else. I walked passed him without a thought. And this makes me think that if I took the time to notice how sad he was maybe, just maybe, I could have helped in some way. So you see? I am that guy. Who tries to help others but not hard enough. I thought I was really helping people but  I ignored the one person who probably need help the most. So now you understand. I came to his funeral because I was feeling guilty. I couldn't live with myself. And I thought that maybe if I came to his funeral it would go away. But it didn't it grew stronger and stronger until it suffocated me. I quickly stood up and rushed to the nearest bedroom and found a bathroom and puked my guts out. When I was finished I slowly got up and washed my mouth. As I looked around I notice that the room had a eerie feeling to it. Eli's room. I looked around searching for any form or sense of the person who was once here. My eyes landed on a little composition book. I thought should I pick it up? But you all know the saying curiosity killed the cat. I slowly walked over to it and picked it up. I slowly open it and looked at the first page. It read:
Dear Someone,
This is for anyone that chooses to read this, but if you are reading this that means I'm dead. Let you be warned this is a book about my most inner thoughts and cause of death. Enter at your own risk...if you care
Sincerely,
Eli

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A/n hi there this is a new idea that I just thought of a while ago tell me what you think please

¤redheadadventure