Thinner

21

Opened.
________________________

It was sickening to him.

It hurt so much.

And yet at the same time...

It wasn't as bad as he thought it would be.

It wasn't that spending 3 months without a brief moment of fresh air or hearing and seeing the outside world should have been the thing to get him emotional.

It was rather the thought of how quickly the time passed.

And how quickly everyone became around him. He had spent days and days with Hyunjin and Chan, talking, cuddling, and running around the hospital. And yet, here he was, crying over the leaves falling from the trees. It didn't feel as comforting to look at prior to how it did at home. Home wasn't a good place, but it was home. This was a good place, but it wasn't home.

It wouldn't ever be.

And he genuinely thought that nothing would ever hurt as much as gaining weight or failing a test. But even so...Today, wasn't a good day.

From morning till midday, everything has just been bad.. negative, spiteful.

From approximately losing two kilograms over the course of two weeks, it wasn't on his program. He wasn't here to lose. He was here to gain. And he gained, then lost it. The serious talk, the accusations. It was all too much for him to handle. There wasn't a single increase on his tube feeding. But it still felt like he failed his doctor and the nurses.. and most specifically.. Chan and Hyunjin.

It hurt so dang much to the point that he felt so hopeless. Even if half of the weight wasn't his own doing, it still felt like a major loss. It felt wrong for getting his hopes up in ways he couldn't tolerate. It wasn't right that he smiled and laughed so much during that time. He lost.

Lost.

Lost.

Lost.

He wasn't used to that word.

And he didn't like that word.

It wasn't his word.

It meant that he wasn't the best.

It meant that he failed himself.

It felt like he failed the rest.

And he couldn't pause his mind, his thoughts. He couldn't stop the time or the clock. He couldn't feel the line, nor when it stopped.

He didn't feel anything.

But he felt so much.

It was making him crazy. Every day, being at the risk of falling onto the floor.. unconscious.

Perhaps almost dying. And it tore his own mindset apart, knowing he couldn't live with himself either way. Even if he wanted to, he just couldn't. He couldn't be proud of himself. He couldn't let anyone be proud of him. He couldn't let himself be happy. He couldn't bring others to make him happy.

Happiness didn't deserve to be his word.

Heck, was it even in his dictionary at this point?

"Jeongin, you need to finish your meal," a nurse approached, sitting down beside the boy hanging his head down low, shaking as he fought a battle against his own mindset. "I know it's difficult for you. But you really need to eat your meal Jeongin, it's just this last one and a snack left" she tried to encourage him.

He was well aware of the fact that if he actually kept all his meals and snacks up, he'd get decreased with the tube. He didn't like either terms. He couldn't bring himself too it.

The thing he hated the most was not remembering the amount of calories each individual pieces of food contained. He could feel it in his stomach so badly. He wanted to puke. To throw it all up and feel a bit better with himself again.

"Jeongin-".

"Enough. I'm not hungry, I'll just go to bed, " he mumbled, standing up shakily. His eyes throwing a shark, hatred filled glare at the nurse who pursed her lips into a fine line.

"You know the rules Jeongin..you can't leave the table until dinner time is over if you haven't touched your food" she stopped the frail boy, who shook his head.

He honestly just wanted to cry. He wanted to sob so hard that he couldn't breathe. He wanted to cry like an active river, overflowing.

"I am not eating right now, I don't care if you like it or hate it. I'm not eating it, and I'm not sitting back down" he huffed, stomping away in complete madness.

He felt his pulse knock down his veins and his hands shaking from the anger that rose within him. He could physically feel himself for once, in a way that wasn't wrapping his frail, thin fingers around his bony wrists to measure its size. But in a way, where he felt physically conscious of his own breathing, how his stomach churned, and complained constantly.

He hated it all.

In this moment, he wanted no one.

He wanted it all gone, for everything to dissappear. Into thin dust particles, unnoticeable, but traceable. He wanted to hide from the world's hungry eyes, he wanted to dissolve into foam like the little mermaid.

It wasn't suicidal.

It was intrusive.

A thought about harming himself for not being able to do something simple. A thought triggering his own safety alert. but unlike most cases, it was triggered by himself. He was afraid of himself, afraid of his surroundings.

He could see the silhouette of a nurse by his assigned room. Causing him to gulp, wanting to turn his heel around. He felt so targeted, like he was just a prey. He couldn't find an exit to this horrendous situation. His legs just kept walking and walking, nearing the nurse.

Anxiety has never felt this bad ever before. He could feel it practically choking him, blocking his way of air. He couldn't take deep breaths, he couldn't relax nor slow down, he couldn't breathe.

He couldn't stay still.

"Let's get you to bed Jeongin, today is the only exception, only because we can see it's really difficult for you right now" the nurse spoke firmly.

She wasn't familiar, like her face was new.

And she had a bad attitude..he didn't like it.

"G-go away" he whimpered, shutting the door shut in her face, feeling the adrenaline jump from vein to vein, skipping onto nerves and pulling him down.