Truth - Lashton

Chapter 31

Luke's POV

I can't. I shouldn't have done this at all.

Michael couldn't come over for dinner so I was destined to fail.

I ate dinner, it wasn't hard until after I saw how my mum cooked with oil. My main fear food was oil and I fucking ate it.

I find myself now, in the bathroom as the toilet holds the dinner I ate. I find myself now sitting beside it, crying and feeling hopeless.

I think now I know that I was right, I can't really recover. I wasn't made to recover, rather I was made to suffer this way.

I hated it, I'm only 15. I shouldn't be here on my bathroom floor, getting rid of a meal all over some fucking oil!

I'm having a war with myself. It seems so easy to stay in this and die but it seems so hopeless and sad.

I can't leave my dreams behind or anything but maybe I'll get reincarnated and be happy and chase new dreams.

I can't keep thinking this way.

I flushed down my meal and wiped my face off, tears from the vomiting and sadness making dry tracks on my now hollow cheeks.

I looked awful now, I could really see it.

I looked dead. My cheeks and ribcage hollow and open, revealing the mess of a person I've become to this disorder.

I think I'd rather be the chubby kid I used to be, at least I was happy.

"Luke? Honey? Are you okay in there?"

My mum's voice spoke from outside the door, sounding like some sort of daunting savior to me.

I opened the door and looked at her, it was so painfully obvious what I had just done as she wraps her arms around me. I heard her sigh in a way that told me she was a few seconds from matching my own tears that haven't fully stopped.

"Honey.. I know you can get through this.. I know my Luke can recover.."

She spoke about me, Luke as if me now is some sort of demon or monster and she wasn't wrong. I wasn't me, I had become this stupid disorder.

"It was too much, mum.. I don't know why.."

"I know, baby. It's gonna be okay.."

I shook my head, my mind or my disordered demon telling me it wasn't gonna be okay.

She walked me back to my room after I told her my head hurt and I was cold. She tucked me in and gave me a small kiss.

"I love you, Luke.. It's all gonna be okay."

I nodded, letting out a small whimper when she left as I started crying again.

It feels lost and hopeless. I hate who I've become and I hate that I'm in a deep chokehold to this.

My stomach hurt so much from the purging. It wasn't the food or anything, I knew exactly what all these problems came from.

My skin bruises easily, my hair is falling out, I get dizzy and it's all so god damn annoying.

I feel alone and lost and I'm tired of pretending that it's okay, that this is all I'll ever be.

I'm tired of feeling my body caving in with each passing day.

I'm tired of it all, maybe this disorder is right. Dying would be alot fucking easier.