My Blood, Your Bones - Phan

Chapter 4 - Eat

Dan's POV

I went after school to the stupid meeting. I filled out a few forms and enrolled myself as a temporary patient, coming only for the meetings. They had resident patients as well, I heard, but I wasn't planning on being one of them.

A nurse guided me to a hallway waiting area with a few chairs, telling me the meeting didn't start for another half hour. I sat, and another frustrated nurse walked out of a room and sighed. Another came to comfort her.

"Did he take it?" she asked.

"I left it, but I don't think he'll take it. God, poor thing's going to die. He knows it, too. Its heartbreaking."

"Did you tell him it was –"

"Fat free," she interrupted quickly. "Yes. I'm so worried about him."

"Anorexia's a difficult thing," she consoled.

"But he's hanging on a limb, and his limbs can't support him! It's a matter of time before –"

"Come on, Beth," the other said, hugging her. "He'll make it. He's in your care."

She tried to nod, and walked off with her friend.

Anorexia? A boy with anorexia? I had never seen someone who literally cannot eat. I felt bad. I stood up, and peeked inside the room she walked out of. Inside was a sad looking boy, my age, maybe. A large plate of spaghetti sat in front of him. He didn't touch it. He noticed me, and looked up.

"Hello?" he asked. "Beth?"

"Ah," I hesitated. "No, I'm not Beth. Um," I opened the door and stepped in, getting a better look at him. He looked dangerously skinny. Though he was seated at a small table to himself, I could see his chest bones and cheek bones. The poor thing. The nurse was right. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, thanks." He pushed the plate away from himself with a boney hand. "Do you want this?" he asked. "I'm not going to eat it."

"Looks to me like you should."

He just stared at me. He had nice eyes, for looking so frail everywhere else.

"Here, what's the problem?" I asked, taking a set at the opposite end of the table. "Why don't you want it? I love spaghetti," I told him.

He shrugged. "I can't eat it," he said. "It'll make me fat."

"Are you kidding? It's all fat free." I knew it wasn't, and that the nurses lied to get him to eat. The sauce was fattening, and the pasta itself was full of carbs, which will add to it. If he ate this, he might be able to gain a pound or two. It could do him some good.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah."

He hesitated, and shook his head.

"Here," I said. "Can I ask you something? Completely off topic, nothing to do with food, ok?"

"Um, sure."

"Whats something you love?"

He thought. "I used to love when my friends hugged me," he decided. "But I don't have any friends now."

"Ok, so you like hugs. Whats something you fear?"

"Death," he said quickly, as if he was prepared for the question. "Death and gaining weight."

"Ok, well, here's something to think about. This," I said, pointing to the dish, "is all fat free. You won't gain fat. But you will gain healthy weight, which will prevent you from dying, see? No fat, all health, canceling out your fears."

He looked a bit perplexed at me.

"Ok, try this. You take a bite, and I'll take a bite."

"Why?"

"So you don't have to eat it all, and can eat slowly. I'll start." I picked up the fork and twirled myself a bite of spaghetti. I chewed it slowly so he would too, that way, it might seem like less. I swallowed. "Now your turn." I handed him the fork back. He copied me, taking a slightly smaller bite. When he swallowed, I smiled at him. "Good, isn't it?"

He put on a small smile and nodded sadly.

I took another bite, keeping my word, and he did the same. It seemed to be a game. Once his stomach was engaged in the food, he took slightly larger bites, and I took smaller. Then I stopped. "You're eating," I reminded him. "I knew you could do it."

"Wow, I am!" he said happily, like he hadn't done anything so impressive in a while.

I stood up and walked around to see him. He was so incredibly skinny. I put my arms over him and hugged him. "Sorry, I don't really know you," I said, "but I'm proud of you."

He put his arms weakly around me too. "Thank you," he cheered, then let go of me. "What's your name?"

"I'm Dan. And you?"

"Phil."

"Nice to meet you, Phil. I've gotta run. Keep eating, but remember, not too fast. And not too much at one time. You'll feel better."

He smiled and nodded. "Ok. Bye."

"Bye."

I walked out, and there were the two nurses again, staring at me like I had three heads. "What? Was I not supposed to go in there?"

"Who are you?" the one called Beth asked.

"Dan."

"Do you know him?" she asked, pointing to Phil's room. "Are you friends?"

"No, I've never seen him before."

"Was he eating?"

"Yeah."

She gasped. "How? I can't get that boy to take a bite."

I shrugged. "He needed help eating, so I helped him."

"And him, Phil, the sickest one here, suffering from a deadly case of anorexia, was eating?!" the other gasped.

I nodded.

"You've got a gift," Beth told me. "I can't get him to even consider food. That's amazing."

"He must've taken to you," the other commented.

I shrugged. "Good for him." I went and sat back in the provided chairs, waiting for the meeting to begin.