Reprogrammed (Hunter Angst)

The Devil on My Shoulder

His longing to feel anything at all was getting worse from moment to moment. All the same, the emotional numbness, his headache, and the nausea were all also getting worse with each passing moment. The more the staff at the hospital pushed their rules onto him, the more he pushed back. Belos was a constant presence, the one and only voice that could really pierce through the constant ringing in his ears and the vertigo in his head.

Eating was really fucking hard . All food tasted like ash in his dry mouth. Thinking was also nearly impossible with his Uncle's skull critiquing his every action, reminding him of his worth(lessness).

On day six, one of the daily activities the ward was offering was a supervised game of volleyball using the net they'd just newly installed. Hunter had not gotten the opportunity to work out and train his body all week, and spent the whole morning looking forward to playing after lunch.

Hunter spent his morning in therapy, as usual, dodging questions and refusing to elaborate. He told every one of the doctors that he was feeling fine, the decreased dose of medication was working great , and that he actually felt that he did not need a new anxiety medication. All of this was said while a migraine pulsed behind his eyes, leaving splotches in his vision.

When he sat down for another rather unappetizing meal at lunch in a far corner of the dining hall, a nurse approached him.

"Hey cowboy, how's it hangin'?" He started. The adult looked young, probably in his mid-twenties. The scrubs he wore were colorful and fun.

"Just fine, thanks." Fucking again with that stupid question.

"Here's the situation. Myself and your doctors have noticed that you are struggling to eat. I've heard that you're really looking forward to that volleyball game this afternoon, but unfortunately, if you don't eat all of lunch today, we can't allow you to play and risk hurting yourself."

Hunter was pissed . They shove him into this stupid facility, force him to talk to therapists all day long, and then as soon as he starts to actually look forward to something, they immediately threaten to take it away. His hands started shaking.

"I know it's upsetting, and I'm incredibly sorry. However, we want you to get better, and that means giving your body the things it needs to survive."

The teenager refused to meet the adult's eyes, instead choosing to try Gus's deep breathing technique. He was not going to cry in front of this complete stranger. The nurse kept talking, and even pulled out one of the table's chair's to sit with Hunter.

"I'd like to sit alone, please " Hunter gritted out, blinking away obnoxious salty tears.

"No can do, buckaroo. I gotta make sure you eat all of your food."

Hunter just wanted to go out for sports. He just wanted to feel normal, act normal, and live a normal life. But instead he was left with this cruel fate. I don't even remember what normal feels like anymore . He realized quietly.

Shoveling dry mac and cheese with steamed broccoli down his throat was a difficult task. Belos kindly reminded him of just how pathetic it was to struggle with such a basic activity. It was slow work, and by the time he got to the last few bites, his meal was cold. Nausea roiled in his gut and his mouth watered threateningly as he chewed.

The nurse in the seat next to him was talking the entire time, in what was perhaps a poor attempt to distract the blonde from the mountainous task of finishing a meal. It took over forty-five minutes to get it all down, but eventually he did. At the end, the nurse applauded him, and gracefully granted him permission to go out for sports.

At this point, he felt almost too nauseous to stand, but he pushed it down in order to feign wellness. Blessedly, after a few minutes his uninvited guest excused himself to apparently enjoy his own lunch.