It was the screaming of the hinges and the banging of the door that snapped him from his restless slumber, the sound crawling into his disorganized dreamworld and strangling him with a sense of panic and confusion. Blank terror rushes through his veins as Eli shoots up from his bed. His sweat covered body becomes further entangled in his sheets with every frantic movement. The collar of his shirt constricts around his neck tighter and tighter. His still half-sleeping mind struggles to understand who could possibly be using the door. A thief? An Enforcer? Eventually, after an agonizingly long moment of panic, Eli remembers the disappearance of his mother. In his moment of weakness he was lucky enough to forget about the reality of his everyday life. Such blissful ignorance cannot last forever, however.

He quickly calms. The frantic flailing of his limbs slow to a crawl as he unhurriedly extracts himself from his dirty sheets, the previous signs of panic and fear replaced with only bitter tiredness. His mouth tightens into a harsh line, and the light within his eyes dim. He stares out into the gray world without a hint of affection. The years of hard work and effort lay toppled over in the corners of his room, shivering towers of paper and age. His empty pens spill from the ripped edges of his discarded bag, which lays in a pile of useless textbooks. After straightening out his clothing, Eli opens his locked door, the loud creaking spreading throughout the entire house.

Stepping into the hallway, Eli is greeted with hazy darkness. The world outside is nearly completely black. The hallway is filled with gray outlines as his eyes quickly adjust to the almost complete lack of light. At the other end of the house, using the outside streetlights, Eli sees a hunched figure wobble and sway in front of the door. The figure as thin as a twig, reminiscent of a starved dog prowling for food. It leans tiredly against the doorframe, letting out low breaths and nasally sighs. A harsh panting fills the air.

Eli nears the hunched form of his mother, methodically sidestepping the bags of trash. His movements are by no means slow, but they seem to lack the proper urgency that the situation calls for. Suddenly, a stench wafts into his nose. It differs from the fragrance of rotting food that seems to perfume his home, and is far too rich to be the smell of rust. Is doesn't seem like mold or waste, which he has long grown accustomed to. No, while a familiar smell, it's a scent he's managed to avoid for a long time. Many years have gone by since he was last haunted by such an odor.

The smell pulses throughout his body, filling the entirety of his being with a feeling of hopeless agony. It’s a stench that's all too personal. So many years have gone by, and yet the familiarity of it makes him feel as if it had never left. Eli freezes, his body stiffening in complete shock, his eyes widening until they seem to bulge from their sockets. Sniffing again, the urge to vomit suddenly overtakes him, dropping him to his knees as his body struggles to decide whether it wants to clutch his head or his stomach. The memories seem to meld together, like the coagulation of clouds, and eventually the storm arrives. All that occupies his mind are the memories of pain and hatred.

Has it really been so long? Faced with the torment of the past, Eli can’t help but question the passage of time. As the sound of shattering glass and furious shouts drown out his thoughts, he can’t help but stare in wide eyed amazement at the scruffy face plastered directly before his eyes. The head is rectangular in shape, different from Eli’s own angular profile, but the sharp eyes and celestial nose definitely transferred through generations. His open mouth screams incoherently, the crooked yellow teeth and bloodshot eyes giving him the appearance of a feral animal. His veins bulge by his temple, thick and throbbing. The man’s face fills the entirety of Eli’s vision, his long mahogany hair plastered to his forehead as he bashes his head against Eli's. No trace of familial love can be seen in that expression of hatred.

The stench fills Eli’s nostrils, burning his lungs as he inhales. In the memory, his childish body hunches over, coughing. This action only seems to anger his raging father further, as not a moment later, a large, scarred fist is raised, and swings down ruthlessly. Eli doesn't understand. Those days have long passed, and yet, here he is, like a ghost of the past, back to torment him for his sins. No matter what he does, no matter where he goes, the man will follow. This the boy is sure of.

As if punched, Eli buckles forward, his tangled feet tripping over the piles of bags, tipping them forward with a loud crunch. In the dark hallway, he can only push his arms outwards, hoping he won’t land on anything too dangerous when he catches himself. As his entire body crashes to the floor, his drunk mother startles, bumping into the door and causing it to scream as if in pain. This seems to agitate her, as she babbles incoherently in an uncomfortably loud voice, forcing Eli to hurry to his feet to sooth her. He needs to stop her from drawing the attention of any unwanted visitors.

“Hey, hey… Are you okay Mommy?”

His voice takes on a childish tone as his hands smoothly reach out to comfort her. Perhaps drawn to the sound of his voice, his mother stops her wailing, instead choosing to blindly lift a trembling hand, pressing her cold fingers against his cheeks. After somehow confirming his identity, the woman breaks down into tears, her sudden sobbing startling Eli, who clutches her bare shoulders. She seems to have lost her blanket over the course of her trip. Uncertainty coats Eli's actions. This hasn't happened before. What is he supposed to do?

With a sigh, he draws her withered body to his chest. He now towers over her. In a quiet moment, he rests his chin atop her head, closing his eyes. His mother wraps her arms around him, a soft whimpering, like that of a beaten dog, leaks from her lips. He tries to ignore to stench that clings to her body. Carefully, he leads her back down the black hallway. After multiple moments of stumbling and silent cursing, Eli manages finally arrives. He flips the room's light switch, filling the space with a searing hot white that blasts his eyes in irregular beats.

The burning light causes him to fiercely squint. He raises his free hand to cover his eyes. Despite her eyes being wide open, his mother doesn’t seem to react. Her limp, silent body hangs heavily onto his shoulder. His mother's weight suddenly increases, and Eli instantly realizes that she's fallen unconscious. He steps into the room, dragging his mother behind him with a soft grunt. Carefully, he lays her naked body onto the pile of blankets in the center of the room, draping the loose fabrics across her figure, covering every inch of skin except her head.

“And… done…”

Feeling as if he’s just accomplished a great task, Eli leans against the door frame, hollowly staring at the slow rising and falling of the mountain of blankets. His eyes are dark. His breathing is shallow. His mind is almost entirely empty, merely the single feeling of exhaustion present in his conscious understanding. The singular sensation of absolute tiredness dangles ponderously above his mind and body. His mouth sags into a frown and his eyes gain a hint of harshness. His gaze is reflective, glassy without sight, cold and inhuman things, yet strangely gentle and quiet. Eventually, a question surfaces from the within the well of tar that his mind has long since become.

What am I going to do?

It’s a simple question. A simple question with an infinite number of answers. To Eli, however, this question is a black tunnel with no light at the end. What am I supposed to do? He can’t help but think of everything he’s done so far. All of the work he’s put into climbing to the top of his grade, the struggle of the unending studying, the infrequent meals, the constant screaming of his mother. Despite all of his efforts, despite all of the pain, agony, and rage he’s suppressed and struggled through, the future remains ever uncertain. Life path? End goal? Such things are foreign to a boy like him. As an individual knowingly living in the shadow of his mother, the self awareness he possesses only makes him wish for the deepest recesses of ignorance.

How am I supposed to think for myself?

Reaching the core of the problem, Eli can’t help but furrow his brow. What is he meant to do? What is the correct thing to do? What does he want to do? Since he was a child, not once has he considered his own feelings. It's easy, living for another person. But can he live for himself? His face becomes increasingly twisted as reality itself throws itself against him. His bones creak in silent outrage as the weight of the world presses down onto him. His blood pounds, louder and louder, harsher and harsher. It's a painful experience. The sensation of witnessing the end of the world drowns out his emotions, leaving only bitter frustration and the fear of the future. He grits his teeth. He breathes. In and out, in and out. He breathes until, suddenly, he can’t breathe anymore.

“AHHHHHHHHHHH!”

Madly, the boy crouches, gripping at his hair as a hysterical, enraged scream tears from his throat. Tears roll down his cheeks as his animalistic eyes latch onto his mothers slumbering form, pupils dilating in hatred and love, the endless grief and malice erupting from his core like a volcano of pressurized resentment. Without thinking, he lunges, scarred fingers wrapping around his mother’s twig-like neck. His grip tightens, squeezing and squeezing, hoping ever faintly that the woman’s eyes will crack open just so he could see the briefest reflection of fear. His atrocious desires are unfulfilled, however, as the woman’s reactionless face grows darker and darker, the blood flow gradually lessening as his grip intensifies. Eli’s knuckles whiten. His body trembles. A sob. A hiccup. And finally, a cry of frustration.

Falling backwards, the terrified child crawls away, his limbs trembling out of fear and adrenaline. Mind blank from panic, his eyes drill into his mother, and through the strobing light he sees the red marks around her neck, the deep handprints sure to develop into painful bruises in a short while. In the breathless silence, Eli forcibly cuts off his panting, a single fear occupying the entirety of his mind as he waits, terrified, for the sound he fears won’t come. Her chest rises, and a coughing wheeze fills the room.

Relief. The pure, concentrated essence of relief washes through Eli’s senses as he collapses to the ground, curling into the fetal position by instinct. He listens to his mother's breathing, to the strangled coughing emerging from her recovering airway. Scalding hot tears pour down his face, wetting his dirt encrusted cheeks, leaving obvious marks of shame. His muted sobbing continues as he thinks in desperation. What am I going to do? Once again returning to this question, Eli confronts an unavoidable truth. I can’t stay here… Not after what I’ve done… What I’ve tried to do… The guilt gnaws at his mind, a painful digging that borrows deeper and deeper into his psyche, thrashing about and conjuring up only the most depressing of futures. Do I even want to stay…?

A small, whimpering voice in the back of his mind recalls the scent that even now clings faintly to his mothers body. I can’t live like this. I can’t. I don’t want to go any further in a life like this. Future and past, both haunt him, twisting his mind, grinding it, sawing it away until only confusion remains. Through that confusion a single conclusion is drawn, one that presents a whole new set of challenges to face, while simultaneously sidestepping all of his present problems. His breathing stills. A heavy solemnity fills the room. His lips move unconsciously as he solidifies his heart’s desire.

“... I need to leave…”