This life is pointless... I’m constantly trudging through my existence, though I don’t know why. Why haven’t I killed myself yet? Why not just end the pain? No one would miss me. No family. No friends. No one loves me. No one would care. The only thing that would be lost is a good neighbor that would help with yard work, sometimes even babysitting. Maybe I could even do some good by dying…  A nice family could move into my house, have a better life. My existence is a nuisance. No one needs me. I’m bad luck to the universe… This world doesn’t need me. It doesn’t want me. And if it doesn’t want me, why stay?...
            These were Eliana’s thoughts as she was drifting off to sleep. The past few years had not been kind to her. Tragedy after tragedy struck, and she was the absolute center of it. A car crash that killed both of her parents – she was the driver... A series of kidnappings and murders occurred – none of her friends were ever  found... And then a fire... Her boyfriend burned and perished while sleeping in his home; the cause was a cigarette, left with the butt still lit. Eliana’s boyfriend wasn’t a smoker – she was...
         Eliana had lost all of her family and friends, and eventually, her job. It was as if she had nothing left to live for. The fading scars along with the fresh ones on her wrists were proof that she no longer had hope for herself in this world.
         However, Eliana didn’t know the thoughts of a certain neighbor. She had helped him from time to time, putting up Christmas lights, moving furniture, and other tasks here and there. He had seen the slits that decorated her poor wrists – he didn’t think they suited her. She seemed so alive whenever he saw her, but it was but a mask she wore. He couldn’t see past it before, but now he could. Now, when he looked in her eyes, he could see her pain, her suffering. He could see how the world was hurting her, killing her from the inside out. He wished he could stop it, make it all go away, just for her. He cared so deeply for her. Just from seeing her a few times a day for about 5 minutes, he had fallen madly in love with Eliana. She was blind to it. She believed no one could ever love her because of the tragedy that surrounds her. But, she was wrong.
         The neighbor, Michael, had not seen Eliana for about a week. It was unlike her to stay inside for that long, not going outside at all. He was worried. Every night, he would gaze at her house, not a single light shining through the windows. The only thing that hinted at life was the muffled sound of soft rock music playing from inside. It seemed sad with soft, melancholic verses playing now and again. How could someone so beautiful be plagued by something so awful? Michael pondered. He knew little of her past, but she had mentioned once or twice that she was surrounded by tragedy.
         Finally, after five straight days of playing, the music stopped. It was seven o’clock in the afternoon, and the sun was just barely setting, painting the skies in brilliant pastels. The atmosphere was almost too calm. The chirp of birds swirled through the air, as if trying to bring comfort to those who were worried. But, Michael could not help but worry. Eliana had not left his thoughts. And when the music stopped, it was as if there was a pain in Michael’s heart. He bundled his shirt up in his fist right over his heart, reliving the ominous feeling that washed over him when that music stopped. He knew it was a sign. He knew he had to help Eliana. Something was wrong, and he was going to find out what and put an end to it.
         Michael approached the front yard of the house, run down from little maintenance over the past few days. Leaves littered the ground underneath the large tree in the front yard, standing tall and shadowing the worried man in the sunset. The shadow served as a sort of omen, a sign that something horrible was to happen, or already had.
         Footsteps crunched the leaves as he walked towards the porch. He was hesitant to knock, worried about what would answer the door. That is, if there was an answer. Tentatively, he brought his hand up and knocked loudly, hoping that a bright smile would be waiting on the other side when it opened. There was no answer. He knocked again, harder and louder this time. Again, there was no answer. Ten minutes passed like this – a knock and no answer. Finally, Michael decided that he had to see for himself what was going on. He put his hand on the golden colored door knob and tried to turn it. His eyes went wide when he discovered it was not locked. He pushed the door open ever so slowly, afraid of what he might see behind it.
         The room was absolutely destroyed. A broken vase shattered around a table, papers strewn about on the floor, books torn apart, a splintering chair broken into a million pieces of wood. Right in front of Michael’s feet, there was a picture. It was a picture of Eliana with a man Michael had never met. He assumed it was an ex-boyfriend; they were kissing in the picture. However, the glass of the picture frame was shattered. Michael picked it up and pulled the picture out to get a better look. On the back, there was writing. In beautiful cursive were the words “Never forget.” However, right below it was something that sent chills up Michael’s spine. In sloppy and tear stained writing were the words “It’s all my fault.”
         Placing the picture on a table in the hallway, Michael continued to investigate the house, searching for any sign of Eliana. He entered the dining room which was bare besides a small table with one chair identical to the one broken in the hallway. On the table, there was a piece of paper with words scribbled on it. There were no tear stains, just writing. Michael picked up the piece of paper and started to read it.

To whomever is reading this,
         My name is Eliana Turney. I am 24 years old and everyone I’ve ever loved is dead. Today is December 17th, the day that I am going to kill myself. I’ve been thinking about it for over a year and nothing has changed my mind. It must be the right decision. No one will genuinely care when I’m gone. I don’t even know why I’m writing this letter. Closure, maybe? I’m not really sure, but it’s here. Whoever you are, whoever is reading this, tell my neighbors I’m sorry that I won’t be able to help them anymore. Tell Janet I’m sorry I’ll never be able to watch her kids for her again. Tell William I’m sorry that I won’t ever be able to help him with his rose garden ever again. And, tell Michael I’m sorry I won’t be able to help him with all of his odd jobs anymore... Tell him I said thank you for all the times he’s helped me get back on my feet when I was down. I never did tell him why I was sad or depressed, but he would always help me. I’m thankful for that, but no comfort could ever help me in the end. Goodbye to all of them and I hope they lead happy lives.
-Sincerely, Eliana Turney

         Michael’s eyes were sent wide by the letter. He dropped the piece of paper and started running through all the rooms, desperately searching for the fallen angel. He came to the kitchen and shivered. All around the counters and on the ground were blood stained knives, but no Eliana. He ran to the other end of the house, towards the living room and downstairs bathroom. No Eliana. He sprinted up the blood-stained stairs, two steps at a time, almost tripping the whole way up. He ran down a hall, coming to the bedroom. There were tiny spots of blood all over the floor, leading towards a door in the corner of the room, most likely the bathroom. Michael practically leaped towards the door trying to get there before Eliana perished.
         Lying in the bathtub was a blood-covered Eliana. There were cuts all up and down her arms, stained with drying blood. Next to Eliana on the tile floor was a bottle of bleach and a bottle of sleeping pills and another of Dramamine, an anti-nausea drug. Her eyes were slightly open and her breaths were slow and shallow. She was on the brink of death, likely to die within the minute.
         Michael dropped to his knees in front of her and frantically said her name, trying to snap her out of her trance. She turned her head towards him and her eyelids opened just a little wider. Michael pulled out his cellphone as tears started to build in his eyes, fearing that the one he loved would die right in front of him.
         “I’m calling 911! Don’t worry Eliana, I’m going to make sure you live! You can’t die on me! Not now! Not after I realized I love you!”
         The phone started to ring and Michael was praying that someone would pick up the moment he started calling. In front of him, Eliana was trying to speak. Her quiet and hoarse voice barely uttered the single word, “No.”
         Tears were now streaming down Michael’s face, leaving wet trails over his sculpted cheekbones. A 911 dispatcher picked up the phone, reciting the average words spoken the second a dispatcher answers an emergency call.
         “My neighbor swallowed a bunch of sleeping pills and bleach – she’s dying! Please, send someone as soon as you can! She’s lost a lot of blood too! Please, you need to help her!” He spoke through his sobs as he panicked, running his free hand through his hair out of frustration that he couldn’t do anything.
         On the other end of the line, the dispatcher said, “Alright I’m sending an ambulance to your location. Do you know how long it’s been since she has swallowed the bleach?”
         “N-no! I just found her! Please tell them to hurry! She’s dying!”
         “Sir, please calm down. An ambulance is on its way right now. It will be at your location in two minutes.”
“Thank you… thank you so much…” Tears continued down Michael’s face as he felt his, his arm growing weak. He dropped his phone on the ground without ending the call and brought his hands up to Eliana’s face, her eyes glazed over. Cold and lifeless. That’s the only way he could describe her eyes. They were as clouded as the sky on a rainy day. Michael caressed her face, tucking loose strands of her raven black hair behind her ears. So beautiful, yet so beaten and bruised on the inside. Today, she just so happened to bring the beating to the outside.
Slowly, Eliana brought her hand up to hold one of Michael’s arms. She was so weak that it took all of the strength she had left. As she looked into Michael’s eyes, tears started to well in hers. She had been so blind to his feelings and was willing to leave without a second thought. But now, she wished she could take it all back. She wished she could be well and healthy, and live out the rest of her life without being bound to a living hell by her past. Quietly, almost so much that Michael could barely hear her, she whispered the words, “Thank… you… I-… I’m… sor-sorry.” Her words were cut off by gurgles, but she managed to say everything she wanted. Just like that, her eyes closed, her body went limp, and the salty tears hidden in her eyes revealed themselves, running down her cheeks.
Michael sobbed loudly as he realized that she had died right in front of him. He thought he was worthless at that moment. He couldn’t save her. He couldn’t do anything. As his endless river of teardrops hit the tile floor, he wrapped his arms around Eliana. He hugged her for a few seconds before lifting her up and carrying her bridal style. The sound of sirens reached him and he couldn’t help but hold back more tears. They landed on Eliana’s blood-stained shirt, washing some of the disgusting red liquid away from her lifeless body.
The sirens got louder and Michael started to walk towards the stairs. He followed the trail of blood to Eliana’s old bedroom, then to the hallway, and then to the top of the stairs. His heavy footsteps echoed as he trudged down the creaking wooden steps. He could see the ambulance lights through the curtains. It had turned night since Michael first entered the house. He stepped over the scattered papers and around the broken vase and chair. He came to the front door and opened it only to be greeted by blaring and flashing red and blue lights. Paramedics ran up to him with a gurney. He placed Eliana’s limp body down on the ghost white fabric and the paramedics wheeled her to the ambulance.
Michael sat down on the porch steps and watched as they checked her vitals – they had no luck. He looked up towards the sky, as if asking God for an answer. His tears had since stopped, but wet trails still stained his cheeks. He looked to his left with sorrow in his eyes only to see that the large tree of the front yard was now completely devoid of leaves. He looked down only to see that no leaves remained there either. It was as if the tree was the same as Eliana – slowly dying with only a few strings of life attached until it was completely whisked away. There was no more hope for Eliana. She was gone, like she wanted to be. But, she left something important behind. Her love and compassion was still in that house, yearning to be used again. All of the bad was gone and all that remained was her good heart. She may never be able to hold someone again or touch someone or help with daily tasks, but she could still love those who loved her. She could still live on, just like the tree. The leaves will never come back the same as they were before they fell, but the tree which was its world would forever remain the same.