I felt my chest tighten, the air around me suffocating. My ears rang, drowning out every other sound in the room. My hands lost strength, and my phone slipped from my grasp, hitting the floor with a soft thud.
My whole body shook as I tried to process it.
This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be.
Eli. My Eli. The one who always checked up on me. The one who never let me feel alone. The one who said he’d always be there.
How? Why?
A choked sob escaped my lips. My mind raced, trying to piece together everything—our last conversation, the way he told me I was beautiful, the way he worried about me, the way he always made sure I was okay.
But was he okay?
I never noticed. I never asked. I was so caught up in my own darkness that I never saw his.
Tears blurred my vision as I tried to stand, but my knees buckled, and I collapsed onto the cold floor. The pain in my chest was unbearable, a crushing weight I couldn't escape.
I wanted to scream, but no sound came out.
Eli is gone.
And I never got to tell him how much I needed him; how much he meant to me.
How much I loved him.
I curled into myself, sobbing until my body ached. The world felt different now.
Darker.
Emptier.
Because Eli wasn't in it anymore.
No.
This had to be a mistake. It wasn’t real. It couldn’t be.
I frantically grabbed my phone from the floor, my hands shaking so violently that I almost dropped it again. My vision blurred with tears as I stared at the message, hoping—praying—that I had misread it.
Eli is gone.
I clutched my chest as a sharp pain shot through me. My heart pounded so loudly that it drowned out all other sounds.
No. No, no, no.
I forced myself to stand, my legs weak beneath me. I stumbled towards my desk, where a framed picture of me and Eli sat. His usual lazy grin, the way his arm casually draped over my shoulder, the warmth in his eyes—he looked so alive.
He was alive.
He had to be.
I quickly dialed his number, pressing my phone against my ear as I held my breath.
Please pick up. Please, Eli, pick up.
The call rang. Once. Twice.
Then—
“The number you have dialed is unavailable—”
“No!” I screamed, throwing my phone onto the bed. My entire body was shaking.
Eli was happy when we were together. He laughed, he joked, he teased me about my paintings. He told me I was beautiful. He made me feel loved.
So how? How?
I grabbed my coat with shaky hands and rushed out of my apartment, not caring that I was barefoot, not caring that my face was soaked with tears. I needed to see him. I needed to prove them wrong.
Eli was alive.
He had to be.
My hands were trembling as I opened the message from Eli’s mom.
"This is where Eli is… Please come, Iris."
Below her words was an address.
I stared at it, my mind refusing to believe. My body felt cold, like ice was spreading through my veins. My fingers hovered over my phone screen, hesitant.
Eli is alive.
He has to be.
My breath came in shaky gasps as I forced my feet to move. I grabbed my coat, slipping on my shoes as fast as I could. My vision was still blurry from the tears, but I didn’t care. I needed to see him.
I ran.
I didn’t think—I just ran.
The streets blurred past me; my mind stuck in a loop of denial. This was just some cruel misunderstanding. Any moment now, Eli would text me, teasing me for believing something so stupid. He would call me his dramatic artist and laugh like he always did.
But deep inside, something was breaking.
When I reached the address, I froze.
A funeral home.
No.
My legs felt like they would give out. My chest tightened painfully, as if something was squeezing my heart until it shattered.
This isn’t real. This can't be real.
I took slow, trembling steps toward the entrance. My hands were ice-cold as I reached for the door handle. It felt too heavy, as if the moment I opened it, I would have to accept something I wasn't ready for.
With a deep breath, I pushed it open.
And there, in the middle of the room, was a white casket.
My world stopped.
My breathing hitched as my eyes locked onto the casket.
White.
Too white. Too clean. Too final.
I felt like the world was spinning, like the ground beneath me was cracking open, ready to swallow me whole. My feet refused to move, but my mind screamed at me to run, to turn around, to pretend I never saw this.
This isn’t real.
I forced myself forward, my knees threatening to buckle with every step. People were gathered inside—Eli’s family, some of his friends. Their faces were filled with sorrow, but they all blurred together as my focus remained on the casket.
Eli’s mom saw me. Her red, swollen eyes filled with fresh tears as she rushed toward me, grabbing my hands.
“Iris…” her voice cracked. “I’m so sorry.”
“No.” I shook my head violently. “This… this is a mistake.”
She bit her lip, and that’s when I knew.
It wasn’t a mistake.
It wasn’t a cruel joke.
Eli was really… gone.
My body trembled as I took another step closer. My breath was uneven, my chest tight with the kind of pain I never thought was possible. My fingers curled into fists as I hesitantly looked inside the casket.
And there he was.
Eli.
Lying still, his face pale, his lips slightly parted as if he had just been about to say something. He looked like he was sleeping. Peaceful. But the moment I saw him, I knew.
This wasn’t sleep.
This was death.
A sharp sob tore through me as I clutched the edge of the casket, my nails digging into the wood. My vision blurred with fresh tears as my mind raced, screaming for an explanation.
How?
How could this have happened? How could Eli be gone when just days ago, he was smiling at me, telling me to take my meds, teasing me about my paintings?
I gritted my teeth, my chest heaving. “No, Eli…” I whispered brokenly. “You can’t do this. You can’t leave me like this. Wake up! Please, Eli!”
I reached out with trembling fingers, gently touching his cold hand. The warmth that was once there—his warmth—was gone.
Tears streamed down my face as I whispered, “Why…? Why didn’t you tell me?”
But he didn’t answer.
And he never would.