Sickening

Chapter 1

I watched from the kitchen table as Elias shut the front door, having just seen Mr. Parker out. I was as settled as I could be for the moment. I was shown my room, and I put my things in said room, although I only brought a backpack so there wasn't much unpacking to do later. My supervisor was finally leaving and Elias was just about to start dinner.

My relationship with food was bad before I was sent to the hospital. I never ate, which always sent me into mood swings which always had me having outbreaks left and right.

I looked over to the counter, my eyes locking on the weekly dispenser holding my pills. I knew they were good for me, because I felt so much better all the time when I take them. But taking them always reminded me that I'm sick.

Elias wondered back towards me, floating around the kitchen until he stopped and leaned over the counter. "I was going to do spaghetti for dinner, that sound good?" He asked, and once again I looked at him when I heard his voice. My jaw was clenched unintentionally, and my fists were bound together, my whole being on edge. I nodded slowly, looking away to take in the room. It was a nice cozy style house, with warm colours and comfort objects.

Elias didn't speak while he cooked, and I somewhat observed him while he did so. He had this focused expression plastered on his face which I couldn't help but be amused by. "Do you need help unpacking? Or want me in the room while you unpack?" He asked, cracking the silence in half. I thought about my answer. "Why?" I asked. "I don't know, emotional support?" My teeth clenched harder.

"So because I have bipolar I need emotional support to unpack a fucking backpack?" I seethed. "That's not what I said," He quickly corrected, turning towards me. "I didn't mean it like that at all, I just want you to know that I'm here if you need anything." His voice stayed calm, which surprised me because usually when I get angry or swear I start getting talked down to like a child that needs calming down. I'm not a fucking child.

"I don't need nor want your help," I scoffed, looking away. "This is going to be torture for both of us if we can't so much as get along," He sighed, leaning his lower back against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest. Why am I fighting with him? I have no reason to hate him, he's helping me. Pull yourself together, Theodore.

I looked back down at the table, at my hands and slowly unclenched my jaw, taking a thorough deep breath. "Sorry," I whispered. "It's okay, we'll get there.." He said softly, almost like he knew what to say. He turned back to the noodles and continued tending to them. I quietly played with my fingers, my gaze downwards.

He placed a loaded plate of spaghetti covered in tomato sauce in front of me with a glass of water. I looked down at it, finding a frown forming on my face. "Do you have any meatballs?" I asked, looking up to Elias. He looked down at me and for the first time today he smiled genuinely. "No, sorry.. but we can get meatballs next time I make spaghetti," He promised as he sat across from me. His reassurance had me smiling as I picked up my fork and started twirling my noodles.

We ate in silence, and I was only able to eat about half but that didn't bother me because it was a lot better than last year. While he was washing dishes, he decided to spark up a conversation. "So how old are you?" He asked. "Twenty-one," I mumbled. "What.. what about you?" I tried to put in effort, because somewhere deep inside me I wanted him to like me. "Twenty-six," He answered, putting away our dishes.

I looked at him for a minute before casting my gaze towards the stairwell near the foyer. "I'm sure you're tired, why don't you go get some rest?" He suggested, seeing my thoughtful gaze. I looked back at him and was yet again reminded about how uncomfortable I was that I was even here. Stop being selfish. He's helping me.

I nodded and slid off the stool, crossing my arms around my torso as I awkwardly turned around and wondered towards the stairs. "Oh, wait! Theodore," He called me back, my name drenched in that addicting British accent. I turned around again, focusing back on him. "Pills," He mumbled, grabbing my weekly pill container from the island counter.

I couldn't help but feel the tension in the room while he ran me a glass of cold water under the sink and handed me the container and glass. I bit back a bitter comment about how he was babysitting my daily medication, but in all honesty I had totally forgotten about it. I clicked open the lid of Monday and dumped the three pills into my palm. I took them all in one go, swallowing them with a big gulp of water. He took the glass from my hands softly and dumped it out, placing it on the counter beside the sink.

"Goodnight, Theodore," He spoke. "Goodnight," I mumbled back before disappearing through the foyer. I climbed the stairs and pushed open the door to my new room, and I stood in the middle of the room for a moment. I took in the bedroom as a whole, unsure what to do. I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the full body mirror off to the side and frowned even harder at the resting frown I found on my face. I was always on the skinnier side, even when I was little. Slim waist, thin arms and skinny legs. It never really bothered me, in fact sometimes I really take pride in the way my body looks.

Looking away from the mirror, I unzipped my sweater which left me in sweatpants and a tank top. I stumbled over to the queen sized bed, heeding Elias' advice and climbing into bed. I'll probably wake up sometime in the middle of the night, so might as well get in as many hours of sleep as I could. I couldn't get comfy enough to fall asleep, so I ended up staring at the dark ceiling in thought, thinking about this whole arrangement for a while until my brain got truly tired and called out for sleep.