I would not let him destroy all that I've done to build myself up, over one trigger. I hastily closed out of the video and slammed my eyes shut. I knew I shouldn't have watched it. I can't handle that topic.

Dark memories frayed the edges of my mind, threatening to tear apart everything that made me the person I've struggled to become. Their force was ominous, sickening, and forceful. Just like he was.

I shifted in my bed, a scream threatening to tear through my lungs and sound throughout my dorm room. I instinctively reached for my phone which was laying next to my pillow. As my fingers clasped around it, that familiar ache of disappointment flooded into my chest. I loosened my grip, dropping my arm back down to my side.

Letting out a heavy sigh, I closed my eyes and began to breathe. Just count. Elijah always said that.

Yeah, well, Elijah's gone isn't he?

It'd been two years, and I still couldn't empty him out of my life. It's as if he embedded himself into my bones, making a home in them. I've always wondered why I cared so much about someone who was my best friend, not even a love interest, but somehow... I just did.

It makes sense. He helped you escape the very thoughts that torment you now. And then he abandoned you.

I took another deep breath in. I've trained myself to remain calm in face of the thoughts that threatened to send me spiraling over the edge of my sanity. All I had to do was breathe, and continue counting. Count until sleep lured all the awful thoughts away.

I still remembered the day Elijah disappeared, him and his family, without a trace. It was senior year of high school, in the winter. He was acting unlike himself.

We sat on the school's football-field, our breath rising into the pitch black clear night sky. It wasn't late, at least 7pm, and the air was unmoving; no wind blowing to send shivers down our spines.

"It's honestly a hilarious video," I said. "You should definitely watch it."

"Sure," he said. I looked at him, and nudged him lightly. "You okay?" He cleared his throat and looked at me intently for a moment, as if he was trying to figure out what he should tell me. He finally nodded and looked away. "You don't seem it."

He shrugged. I looked on at him curiously. "Dude, seriously, what's the problem?"

He turned to me and cupped my face in his hands. "You have always been so beautiful to me. Despite the inner struggle, what you've been through, you've always been so beautiful. Just, don't lose yourself, and don't forget what makes you you. Please." He was acting so... off. I nodded through my confusion. He flashed me a strained smile, and then pulled me into a tight hug.

Now, that was something I was used to. I leaned into his arms, despite the awkward positions we were in. "I have to go. Family stuff."

"Okay, so I'll see you tomorrow?" I asked. I was embarrassed at how much I've come to rely on him, but he never made me feel ashamed of myself. He was always so supportive and understood how much I needed him.

Instead of answering my question, he just smiled and stood, pulling me up with him. We walked in silence, finally exiting the football field and going to our respective cars. He gave me one last hug before he opened the door for me to go into my car. I backed out the school parking lot and waved bye.

That was the last I saw of him.

The next day, my text didn't go through on his phone. The usual iMessage blue bubble was green, and underneath the message read: Sent as Text Message. Upon looking it up, I figured out he blocked me.

Fear and utter betrayal tore through my body as I started looking for him on social media. His accounts were either deleted, or I was blocked, and it was most likely the latter if we were going by patterns in behavior, since I couldn't find him at all. I laid in bed for a while, my mind floored as to what would bring this behavior on. If it was something I did, I had to find out.

I drove to his house later in the day, and upon pulling up to it, saw that it was completely desolate. The curtains were removed, and you could see into every window. There was no furniture, no signs of life ever having even been there. In fact, if I had been anymore unstable, I would've thought I had completely imagined him up.

But I didn't. He was real. And he was gone. So that raised the question in my mind, the one I had been repeating since the first failed text: What the hell is going on?

Nobody could answer my question. Not even my parents, who were close with his. When I went home, I explained everything to them. They tried calling his, but they couldn't get in contact with them. They dropped off the face of the planet, and cut off all their connections.

The one person who seemed to keep me tethered to sanity just vanished out of my life, as if he was never in it.

It was the first time in a long time I was stuck with me. That was something I'd never wanted to face ever again. The harshness of the words in my head, the stinging vividness of the memories that always possessed my mind and body—I had to relive the loneliness of dealing with it myself. I never told my parents what happened to me, and I always was so perfect to them, I didn't want to tarnish their view of me. No matter how much I needed them, I didn't let them help me.

If only they knew.

If only he didn't go.

If only it didn't happen to me.