walks // dreamnotfound

~12~

George's pov

"Do you want something to eat?" He asks, we had lunch 4 hours ago.

I shake my head, "are you sure?" He whispers, "I'm not hungry" I whisper, "I've heard that before" he whispers wrapping my arms around my waist.

I don't answer.

I am hungry.

I'm to scared to end though.

"Clay I'm alright" I whisper, "George, you have to eat" he whispers hugging me tightly.

I think for a second.

"Ok" I nod.

"I have pasta from a couple nights ago?" He says opening the fridge.

I step away from him, "I don't mind" I shrug.

I rub my eyes with the palm of my hand and watch clay put some pasta in a bowl and put it in the microwave for dinner.

"Did you already eat?" I ask, he nods.

I was fine before, now I don't want to eat, I can't take anymore pills because I already did and they should still be working.

Clay starts the microwave and looks at me.

"Are you ok?" He whispers, I nod, "you can tell me george" he whispers, I shrug, "I don't know" I shrug.

"You'll be fine" he whispers.

When the pastas done he takes it out the microwave and grabs me a fork.

"Can we go somewhere else?" I whisper, he nods, "we're going upstairs, we'll be down in like I don't know" clay yells to the others.

I begin to walk upstairs and he follows behind me, we walk to his bedroom and I sit on his bed, he sits infront of me and passes me the bowl of pasta.

I stare at the bowl in front of me then take it, I pick up the fork.

I shouldn't throw up it's fine.

I put some pasta on the fork and slowly put it in my mouth.

Taking the pasta off the fork.

I already feel sick but I pretend the feeling isn't there.

"Can you distract me?" I whisper quickly, "can I kiss you?" He smirks, "not when I could throw up in your mouth" I laugh, he smiles.

I feel unable to swallow the pasta after chewing it.

The sickness inside me is growing until I can not pretend it isn't there.

I quickly get up off the bed and run into the bathroom, I spit the pasta in the toilet hoping the sickness will go away.

Clay quickly walks in, I kneel over the toilet, I feel Clays hand on my back, "George it's ok, just think about something else" he whispers.

~memory~ (George is 12)

I sit at the dinner table with my parents.

They finally cooked dinner, I think they're getting better.

"Better eat it all because your mother spend an hour making it" my dad growls from across the table.

"I will" I say taking a bite out of the steak that fills my mouth with flavour but I suddenly feel sickened by it.

Not by the food.

By eating it.

I spit it out quickly onto my plate followed by the sickening taste of puke in my mouth.

I turn my head and throw up all over the ground.

I can hear my dad's screams and my mother's shouts but before I can say anything something hits me in the hand and smashes.

Glass.

Then I pass out.