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As I made my way up the stairs of the dingy apartment building, the thought of Willow finding out what truly happened at Casey Write's party kept scratching at the back of my head.

    Surely she couldn't know right? I mean she walked into the bathroom that night, but did she walk into the bedroom? Did anyone walk into the bedroom? I remember hearing the door squeaking open for a quick second as Charlie hovered over me  before the sound of it closing again. Panic rising in my chest, I began to run up the stairs, itching to be in my own room. 

    I burst through the door, my mothers figure sitting on one of the couches, staring into the abyss, my actions not even phasing her as I run down the hallway to my left, straight into my room. I flopped onto my bed banging my shin against the desk situated next to my door.

"Owww, f*ck f*ck f*ck what's wrong with me?", I whispered to myself, bringing my shin to my hands as it seared in pain. I needed help. I couldn't get the feeling of kissing him and the way he wrapped his muscular arm around my waist, pulling me closer as if to comfort me. His large smirk being all I could make out in the dark room. I'm not supposed to feel this way, let alone about a guy! Let alone about Charlie Simmons!! I'm just supposed to be somewhat normal, quiet, weirdo Ace who only has one friend. Not I-kiss-guys-and-constantly-replay-the-moment-in-my-head Ace! I'm falling apart and I do not like it.

    I sighed as I stood back up and walked into the kitchen for some breakfast.

"Mom do you need anything? I can go to the store if you want, looks like we're out of milk anyways.", I asked my mother, her small figure not having moved from her position on our couch. She responded with a grunt, staring out the window like our city was on fire. Her eyes filled with emptiness and fear, her brown hair tied into a braid. She looks older than she did yesterday, everyday her face sags a little more, the light leaving her eyes. I glared at her, disappointed at how she didn't even bother to ask me where I had been. I should be used to it, ever since I was 13 and we suffered a family... incident, her soul might have well died, she only got up from our disgusting beige couch for her work.

    I took care of her, fed her, cooked for her, hell I even helped her into bed. Yet she did nothing for me. All my mother was to me was a statue. Stone cold, unable to move or feel anything.

    Unlike Willows family, mines a disaster. My mother doesn't give a care in the world about anything, she completely shut down after my younger sister died four years ago. My dad was never in the picture, he left when I was 2 years old, a month after Eleanor was born. People always ask me if I resented him and oddly enough I don't. I never cared enough to give him any thought, he wasn't ready for fatherhood of two children at the age of 19 and I just accepted it. Was I sort of mad? Yes but not nearly as upset as I am at my mother. Instead of stepping up and caring for me, she just left me to raise myself. After our tragedy took place I'd try to cheer her up, make her feel something only to fail and find myself in a deep depression, completely and utterly helpless. I gave up after a while, accepting I would never be enough.

    My sister -Eleanor - was the best thing I had in my life. She was my life, besides Willow. Our bond was so closely knit there wasn't a thing we didn't share or do together. Hell when we we're younger our teachers would have to let Eleanor and I sit in the school office together at recess and lunch or else we'd both throw and fit and bawl our eyes out. Being two years younger than me, our relationship started to fade and deteriorate when I turned 12. Middle school overtook my life and I was wrapped up in school work, along with the odd jobs I had to take on to help out my mom with money. I always noticed Eleanor trying to play with me like we used too or get me to follow her to our neighbourhood park, I was just too "cool" to care. After being used to brushing her off, Eleanor stopped telling me things, she stopped trying to talk to me and play with me. I was so thankful, I finally had piece and quiet. Until it happened.

    The day after I turned 13 I walked home from school in the cold blustering winds, snow falling on my hair. Even with being a dickhead, I still walked to Eleanors bus stop to make sure she got back home safe, but this time when I arrived I didn't see her get off the bus.

    I began to feel my stomach swirl, butterflies flying around. No not butterflies, anxiety. Anxiety took over my brain as it tortured me to come up with anything that could've happened to her, I felt so guilty, my actions over the past year starting to unfold in my mind, showing me how bad of a brother I had been. I was supposed to be her protector!

    Heavy quick breaths heaved in my chest as I ran home to tell my mom. She immediately called the school who replied saying they didn't see Eleanor come in to her class today. I listened in on another line and my face dropped, I had skipped walking to the bus stop this morning, knowing I would be late for school.

"Go Eleanor you'll be fine!", I told her while running out of our green bungalow, down the street towards the path that would take me to school.

"But Ace I'm scared! You're never there for me anymore, come back!", she yelled. Again I brushed off her words, not caring as I knew her fear was unreasonable.

    The words that left her mouth felt like a slap across my face as I overheard my mother's conversation on the phone line. This was all my fault, I hadn't been there for her and now she's probably lost or kidnapped or-

"Ace you're sister didn't show up to school, c'mon we're heading down to the police station.", My mother's voice interrupted my panicked thoughts. I followed her down to our car and got in the passenger seat, my mom speeding out of our driveway, navigating the twisted streets of our town. When we arrived at the station a missing childs report was filed, investigators calling a search party to find her immediately.

    My mom and I decided we would go to the park that she loved across town. We agreed it'd be better to split up and I ran over to a nearby trail, screaming my sisters name as tears stained my face.

It's all your fault Ace, all your fault!

    My head was a rollercoaster of emotions until I stumbled onto a high bridge lined with fir trees and a flowing river down below. I looked down over the edge, hoping I wouldn't find what I was looking for. In that moment I froze, fear overtaking my body as I screeched, yelling out for my mother. There on the river shore below us was Eleanor.

    My mind went blank after seeing her curly blond hair washed onto the shore,  face down the back of her light blue snowsuit blending into the snow, a puddle of blood next to her head. I remember my mom screaming as she called an ambulance, lights flashing the sound sirens filling up my thoughts until the only thing traveling through my mind was "This is all your fault". I stumbled backwards, not being able to take my eyes away from the girl under the bridge until I became too dizzy to stay conscious.

    The next thing I remember is waking up in my bed, looking over to Eleanors next to mine. Her princess sheets empty. No little girl to fill them in. My mom sat at the small desk situated in front of our beds by the windowsill, tears streaming down her face as she bent over, her back collapsing and rising with every sob. Suddenly our bright yellow room and kitten posters didn't seem so happy as they once were, they only admitted pain. My mother didn't have to tell me what happened, I knew. I knew exactly how 11 year old Eleanor ended up on the shore of that river.

She killed herself, all because of me.

    Ever since that fatal day my mother has never been the same. She continuously mourns what was the lighthearted spirit of my sister. I had hope for the first two years that maybe, just maybe she would return back to her kind, loving self. But that small flicker of hope quickly diminished more and more with every day passing by.

    At first I didn't mind, I enjoy being alone, an outcast. But on the days where I needed a loving person in my life told catch me, she was never at the ready, just letting me fall. Of course I had Willow, but she is not the most nurturing person- if at all, really. So I grew cold, I resented my mother more than my own father who left us, her presence causing me to feel a small rage in the pit of my stomach. I convinced everyone I was over dear Eleanor, and somehow managed to convince myself along the way.

    I know I know, I seem like an awful son for not trying to get my mother professional help but after the death of her daughter, she lost her job and we ended up having to move into this uncomfortable apartment. The money drained out of our accounts rapidly, it was months before mom could find a new job. When she did, her small profit was used for essentials like food and rent, just barely being enough for us to scrape by. Sure we had the Dolton's family saying they could help us out, but I spoke on behalf of my mother and refused, knowing she wouldn't let her pride swoop that low. I decided to get a couple of jobs, try and help support us and save up for some therapy. But that never happened. Every time I received a pay check it was gone within minutes, being used towards new winter boots or for doing laundry downstairs. I gave up on helping my poor mother and tried to get comfortable with the feeling of our new life.

I never did.

Authors note: I'm not sure i like the end of this chapter too much so i may change it if i get any better ideas but for now, here you go! And i promise that the reasoning for Eleanors death will be explained in more detail later on so stay tuned! Thank you for clicking on this story i hope you enjoy it please comment or share if you wish. My life hasn't been the best for a while now but when i see people have viewed this i get so happy :)

I know some people don't like author notes being too long but i'm lonely and like talking haha

Thanks! xoxo

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