Our Secret little Rendezvous

Oliver

📌 Written by Im_a_weirdoo20

❗️ Talks of eating disorder, vomiting, talks of calorie counting, blood, broken glass, and harmful thoughts.

————————— Chapter 15

Well, It's official. I now know you don't need to have sex to have fun. That Halloween night we spent with each other was amazing.

She kept stuffing her face with candy and chocolate, it was adorable. But one thing she did keep constantly asking me, was if I was going to eat any of my treats given to me.

But I didn't know how to tell her about my... habit. So, I didn't. And I just ate a few pieces... to keep her away from the truth. My truth. And that's why I'm sitting here, on my bathroom floor, kneeled in front of a toilet.

She's been keeping a closer eye on me after all these dates we've been on, and I think she knows about this habit of mine. But I don't know how to tell her about it. I don't know how to tell the girl, whom I lo- like dearly in this world we live in. Most people shrug it off, and tell me It's for the attention, or, my favorite one, 'you're a man, you can't have this. This is for girls.'

Well, dad, I do have this.

I blame you.

I blame mum.

I blame my cousins.

I blame my brother.

They all talked shit about their own bodies around me, from the age of 4. This made me hate the body of my own. This made me think I couldn't eat. This made me think I wasn't aloud to eat more than 999 calories a day.

I know, now I'm stealing all the attention away from the real plot of this story. But this is a part of the story, of my story. I can feel more vomit coming up my throat, so I quickly aim for the toilet again. I hate this. I hate my body. I hate my eating habits.

I wish I could eat without having to worry about anything.

I wish my eyes would stop going towards the nutrition information on the back of a packet. I get up, and places my hands on the edge of my bathroom counter, and lean against it, letting my body be held by my hands.

I take a deep breath. In. Out.

I chuckle lightly to myself, before looking at myself in the mirror. My hair falls over my eyes, so I push it back harshly with my hand.

"Why the fuck can't you be normal? Eat, normal?" I say to myself. "Why can't you just... eat? Why do you have to throw it back up? Hmm?" I say harshly towards my reflection.

I see my phone light up beside me on the counter, it's Trevor, calling me. This is the fifth time he's called. I sigh. If I don't pick up now, will they ever need me again? But I don't want to talk to anyone right now. I look back up at myself, look into my broken eyes.

"Why?" I say to myself. I ask again, but louder and angrier. Then again, and again. Until I break. I punch my reflection in the mirror, hard. I drag my hand down the broken glass, harder, to pierce my skin, and make it grow back as a new me. To get rid of the old me.

The now... me.

My eyes follow my hand as it drags down the broken glass, and to where it was placed before, but bloodier, with skin scraped from the flesh. My gaze slowly moves itself up to the glass in front of me. Broken.

I chuckle at it. Whelp, that's life now for me. My phone buzzes beside me, and I answer it without checking the name.

"Trevor, if I don't answer your calls, that means fuck off!" I say to the phone harshly. "Uh, hey smart ass, this ain't Trevor." She says. I sigh, god am I glad to hear her voice.