Eli Borrelli

30: It's quiet uptown

Eli POV.

Diego had been with us for two weeks now, which meant, that it was four days until the twenty-third. Diego was getting along really well, with my brothers, which warmed my heart. On the other hand, I left my room only to go to school, and even there I didn't do anything. 

Jess tried to cheer me up, but even that didn't work anymore. My friends all said they were there for me, and I told them, what I had told Jess. After that, they were really understanding and allowed me to be sad. They still offered to listen to me, but they let me be at peace when I wanted to.

When I got home, I locked myself in my room. I didn't eat, in school or at home, and I hadn't slept a full night in a long time. I was just glad, that Diego had my brothers to lean on because I wasn't of any help.

My brothers came into my room every once in a while. Sometimes they tried to get me to do something, but sometimes they just laid there with me and watched The Office. They brought me food I would nibble at, but it always ended up in the trash. I wrote a lot of songs, but I was pretty sure I would never even record them. 

As I felt my state worsen, I knew I had to get rid of the blades I had in my room. I'm not sure, why I didn't throw them out earlier. I guess it was comforting, that I always had that option.

I walked to the bathroom, and opened the mirror cabinet, taking out the small mint box. I made the mistake, of taking the blade out of the box. The longer I stared at it, the harder it was to put away.

I found myself thinking, just how easy it would be to just give in. No one would have to know. It would be over in a second, and then it would feel so much better. It would all be better, and I would be better.

I really didn't want to. I was over a month clean and going on the second. I had worked so hard to get rid of it. I had been able to say no to it so many times, and failing now would make all of it worthless.

Still, I knew, that someday, my streak would end. I knew, that someday, I would fail, so why not now? Why else, would I have kept the blade? I had said no to it so many times, and this was my reward.

I couldn't. I wouldn't. I didn't want to do it. 

I felt tears leaving my eyes for the first time in a while. This time, it was real. The tears were falling onto the bathroom tiles, and rolling into the sewer. I could see the little lines they would make. My blood would make those lines too.

I gripped the sink tighter and started hitting my head.

"Shut up, shut up, shut up," I kept on repeating, just wanting the thoughts to end. I had to get rid of the blades.

Now, I was doing that already. I was already hurting myself. I had hit myself, so why would using that blade be any different? 

My breathing got heavier and quicker, and soon I couldn't breathe.

It didn't drive me into total panic, thinking I was dying anymore. I had gone through it so many times, it was just annoying.

It would all end if I just gave up. The panic attack, the voice, the pain. It would all be better.

"Tony!" I screamed, knowing his room was next to mine.

God, I hoped he had heard me because I wasn't going to be able to do it again. It was a moment when I had the voice more under control, but I couldn't do it again. Did I even want to do it again? Did I even want him to come in? I wanted to cut myself.

No, I didn't. I wanted it to stop.

It would stop if I'd cut.

"Shut up," I mumbled under my breath, now on the floor.