Chapter 4 - Two Valid Reasons

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(a/n) hey smellies. Sorry for not giving you guys a chapter today, my mental health has been declining recently so I needed a goddamned minute. Anyways, shlankies for being supportive and shit, so extra long chapter for you fuckers. Please remember to drink some water and maybe eat some food before you pass out dumb bitch. I love all of you and I want you all to live, just because you have made it this far. Also, don't let that one person outlive you. ;) 

TW: EATING DISORDER, ANXIETY, HOSPITAL

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Bzzz...bzzz...bzzz

The sound of my default ringtone makes my head shoot up quickly. I immediately regret the action, blood rushing to my head and my vision blurring slightly. I fish my phone out from my pocket where it was safely tucked away to be greeted by a bright screen and Wilbur's name. I grimace at the familiar throbbing pain that I recognized as a headache. I opened my lock screen and answered the call.

"Hello?" I said, slightly cringing at the roughness of my voice.

"Tommy!" Wilbur's voice cried, "Why aren't you on the server? Today is the day of the war and you are late! One of the most important dates that I told you to remember! I'm holding off for a bit, but I can't for much longer! Get on! Quick!." 

My head rushed at the loud noise of Wilbur's voice. I tried to think of a quick excuse, but didn't want to aggravate my head anymore by thinking, if that was even possible, so instead I decided, in my dazed state, to tell Will about what happened. 

"Hey big man, can your stream hear me?" I asked, hesitant.

I could hear Wilbur's sigh from the other side, "No, Tommy. Mind telling me what your possible excuse could be?"

And suddenly, I couldn't hold the story back any longer. I left out the incident on the bridge and mostly just told him about the stick and my anxiety over recent work due as well as making sure I put out good, interesting content for all my viewers. 

Silence engulfed the line, making me even more anxious than I already was about this entire situation. What if Wilbur doesn't believe me? What if he thinks that I made all this up for attention. Hell, I probably did. My dumb mind obviously planted this seed, this inkling, that I am so mentally ill, that I am just replicating what I see online and what people tell me. This is not real. None of this ever happened. I am full of shit. 

Finally, Wilbur spoke, "Tommy, I'm ending stream."

My eyes widened. Why is he doing that?

"No Will, don't I'll just talk to you after!" I pleaded.

"Too late," he replied nonchalantly. "Tommy, I'm going to add Techno into the call, if your okay with it, because he is more experienced with anxiety and I can hear your heavy breathing from my side of the call. Once you are calm enough to speak again, I want you to either call your parents upstairs and tell them to call 999, or you do it yourself, okay?" 

I nodded, not realizing he couldn't see me. My brain couldn't form the words I needed to reply, so instead, I made a low grunt of approval. I noticed Techno had been added to the phone call and I felt at ease, but worse at the same time. I felt vulnerable, naked for everyone to see. I felt as if I broke the glass box encasing me and all my problems, it would shatter and erupt like molten lava from a volcano. 

"Tommy, listen to me," a deeper, more monotone voice said, "I need you to replicate my breathing, okay?"

He began to breathe deep breaths very exaggerated into his phone, causing me to immediately focus on steadying my jumpy breathing to match his calm one

"Alright Tommy," Techno spoke, "If it is safe, I need you to call your parents upstairs and ask them to call 911."

"Techno, you dumbfuck, it's 999 in Britain." Wilbur hissed. 

"Shit, well tell them to call 999 Tommy." Techno quickly corrected himself.

I yelled for my mom, telling her to come hear in what could only be described as a weak voice. I heard heavy, scattered stomping on the stairs. My mum barged into my room and her face dropped at the sight of me. She immediately knew that she had to call emergency services and explained what happened to the best of her ability, my panic attack strengthening. 

"Can I hang up?" I asked, with a shaky voice.

"What?" both boys sad in unison.

"I-I want to hang up. I'm in good hands. Please."

"Tommy, give me two valid reasons and I'll let you." said Techno.

"I-," I paused, "I feel so vulnerable and embarrassed. Also, the noise from the phone is making my head hurt more."

I heard nothing, then a sigh from the other lines.

"Okay, but I need you to promise that you will answer as soon as you can, Tommy." said Wilbur.

I grunted in approval before I hung up. I heard the sirens and plugged my ears and shut my eyes, denying the tears that wanted to slip down my face approval. I felt my mum hug me and I went lax. I fell into a deep slumber, finally picking up on the sleep that I had lost. 

Suddenly, I heard white noise surrounding my ears and head. I was suffocating. Suffocating in the hustle and bustle occurring around me. I needed to open my eyes. I pried my eyes open only to see the inside of an ambulance and paramedics moving their mouths. I realized they were talking and I couldn't hear them. I watched as the woman who was looking over me looked across the small van with worry coating her face. I decided to give into the temptation my heavy eyelids portrayed to me. Man, was I tired. 

I opened my eyes with a start. I saw a bright white light and immediately thought of all the warnings in the movies about going towards bright lights. Oh no. 

Wait. I'm stupid. It's a literal fucking ceiling light. 

I watched as a nurse outside paged someone on a pager and rushed outside to what I can only presume is a waiting area or to see another patient. I waited for someone to come talk to me, my mind being extremely bored and my mind racing with thoughts and worry. Most of my worry stemmed from the doctors possibly seeing my cuts or knowing about my malnutrition. 

Shit.

My parents walked in with what I think was a doctor trailing behind them. My parents looked probably the worst I've ever seen them in my life. I answered all my parents short questions when a doctor interrupted and asked if he could talk to me alone about what happened. Rude much? I said yes and my parents left so he could begin to explain what happened.

"Thomas-" he began.

"Tommy," I interrupted, "Please call me Tommy."

He let out a small sigh, barely noticeable unless you were really looking, like I was. I was inspecting this guy for all he was worth. 

"Tommy, you had a puncture wound that impaled your renal vein, which is the main cause of why there was so much bleeding. Normally, your platelets would have stopped the bleeding in after about 20 minutes of direct pressure on the wound, but because of what we can see, you seem to be malnourished and lack the necessary nutrients to create platelets. We also saw some self-harm scars on your arms. We were wondering, though not much evidence pointed towards it, if there was anything going violence going on at home that we should be worried about."

"No!" I practically screamed, "The scars and lack of nourishment are my doing, not my parents. They would never do that."

"Okay. That's good to hear. Now, I am going to have to call down to Psych to talk to about getting you a therapist, as it is protocol when a patient comes in with self-harm scars. Also, you said your lack of nutrients was your doing, so I want to you to talk to a therapist about having a possible eating disorder."

I hesitated, wondering if I truly wanted to know the answer to the question I wanted to ask. I swallowed my pride and out with it,

"Do my parents know?"  

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