Deliverance of Melancholy

{ twelve || reminded of what i lost }

As a child, I spent a lot of time with my siblings. We weren't the type of family to fight and we hardly ever argued. When I hear about other families and their chaotic lives, I don't understand it because it doesn't make any sense. I'm told that it's normal for families to fight, to get fed up with each other, to want a break from them. I don't get it and I don't think I ever will. My family was so blissful. We were the definition of a happy home, so much to the point where it seemed like a utopia. I mean when we had guests over, they must've thought that we were faking it, I mean based off where they were coming from, it seemed believable for them to think that.

Feeling like I'm being stared at, I look up from my book. I scan my eyes over the library. As I'm about to return my eyes to my book, a swift motion catches my attention instead. Elliott passes me with two books that I can't tell the titles of as they're tucked under his arm. I feel awkward staring at him, but as I'm about to look away, his eyes meet with mine. I feel like a deer caught in the dead of the night with beaming headlights flashing in my eyes.

There isn't much emotion in his stare and I can't tell the meaning behind his eyes. It's almost like sadness, but perhaps so much more than that. Although, I can't say that because I don't know, I don't have a single clue.

He continues walking and quickly looks away. In only a matter of seconds he leaves to the opposing side of the library and I'm left with confusion. Since his parents died, he doesn't seem to be around lots, or at least I didn't know. Before the tragedy that is my own family, I surrounded myself with happy people, with a life that was perfect. I mean, of course I wouldn't notice Elliott anymore because he was no longer a beaming confident football player. He dropped his friends and stopped going after girls. Now that I understand where he's coming from, I get it because I'm him. If Maxwell wasn't so loyal to me, he'd be long gone by now because who wants to deal with death when you're not the person it happened to? Certainly not many people, if any. Before any of this happened to Elliott and I, we were considered 'popular', which was truly pretentious. For some reason, we thought we were better than everyone else, but I don't believe that to be true anymore. Of course, I was a nice person, like a really nice person, but I knew a lot of people didn't like me because I associated myself with bullies. Maxwell has always been a kind person and I think that that is clear. He's also treated people with respect, that is who deserved it. Within our quite large social group, there were a few that ruined our reputation with their own. They were bullies and they knew it, but most of us were kind, a few of the guys were womanizers, but the girls were no better.

As I look down at my book, I find myself annoyed that I was thinking the entire time my eyes were scanning the page. For some reason, I've been doing that so often that I never absorb the story and it takes ten times as long to read a book.

"She's so fucking weird. Like one day she's this popular girl and just because her family dies, she let's it all go? I find that pretty bloody stupid."

I sigh and lift my head from my book. Hearing them talk about me like that puts a strong burning sensation in the pit of my stomach. By now I should be used to the way these types of girls talk about me behind my back, but it seems that it's just getting worse. This is just great, more snotty girls who don't know how to gossip. Don't they understand that in order to gossip, the person they are talking about shouldn't be in the room?

"I know I sure as hell wouldn't. I mean, when someone dies, aren't you supposed to want to have support from your friends?" A different girl adds.

One scoffs, "Please, do you not remember Elliott?"

After not hearing a reply, I become confused. If they're going to bash us, why'd they stop? I turn around in my seat and see Elliott standing in front of them with his arms crossed over his chest, but that's not what is frightening about him. His eyes stare down at them with a glare so vicious that it would scare the strongest person in the world away.