The Mute [Elliot Alderson]

21 | a d d i c t i o n

So I have a pet cat now. And I named her Darlene.

BES

I don't exactly remember when I sat down at first. I've never used rocking back and forth as a coping skill before, but there's a first time for everything.

Nonetheless, after my short mental breakdown (something I've been getting quite used to these days) I decided to go over to Elliot's once again.

Standing in front of his door, I felt a pang of anxiety course through my body like a disease I can't fight. It's been like this for days, and I don't know if I'll ever be able to stop it.

I knock on his door, and I wait.

When his face greets me, I feel relief. How can one man seem to take away a thousand rushing thoughts that can slightly be related to him? Should I even be mad?

"U-Uh, hey," He mumbles, and peeks his head out only a little bit to look down the hallway. This is slightly.. strange. Maybe I'm just overthinking.

"Hey, Elliot. Do you mind if I come in?" I question and he just stares blankly at me like he didn't hear what 'I' just 'said.'

He takes a few steps backwards and turns around, disappearing into his apartment while leaving the door wide open. I take that as an invitation to go inside, so I follow right behind him - then shutting the door behind me.

Elliot's apartment isn't much bigger in size than mine. My apartment has one more room, my bedroom, but his living room (including where his bed is) is still bigger than my entire apartment.

Surprisingly, the interior of his place of living is not nearly as bad as mine. There's no dead body shaped stains on the wall that he's given a name, there's no strange tangy smell in the air from the city that never really goes away. I really wonder how he got such a good apartment, and a piece of me wonders if Joe set me up in the shittiest apartment he could just to spite me.

Either way, I'm still happy I'm living on my own although since I have my anxiety has skyrocketed. Even though it is a mental illness, I'm truly working on not being such a baby about everything. Somehow, things in my life have moved at the speed of lighting and so much crazy shit has happened that it's kind of hard to wrap my head around.

"Uh," He starts lowly. "You can sit down if you want." I nod in response and take a seat on his couch, in front of the coffee table that once I saw neat lines ready to snort laid out. My stomach drops a little when the memory of Elliot laying on my cold kitchen floor—obviously withdrawing— flashes through my mind.

We all have our flaws, I guess.

Elliot stands off to the side, and then begins fidgeting with the bottom hem of his shirt anxiously. It puts me on edge, only because he's acting slightly sketchy.

The amount of times that I've considered that he's most likely listened to the tape is slightly unsettling, but I may have come to terms with it now. I'm just waiting to see if he'll begin the conversation about the topic, but if he doesn't—I won't risk speaking out loud to him.