How to Help Howell?

Part 7

Dan

I needed to go for another run after what happened with the guy at the diner. I went my usual route but was unpleasantly surprised to see that some girls, maybe 16 or 17 were in the park too.

I ignored them as best as I could, but with them constantly pointing, laughing, and staring at me. I had to face them when they ended up in the middle of the path I was jogging on. The group of 3 just stood there, blocking my way.

"Uh, can I help you?" I asked.

"What's that? Sorry, we don't speak pig," one of them sneered as the other two laughed obnoxiously. I just looked at my shoes.

"Look, can you just get out of my way, please? I'm trying to lose weight best I can." I added at the end.

"Oh, is that so? Well, you're not getting very far. What are you, like 15 stones?" One of them asked.

"It's none of your business what my weight is, and I'm really tall!" I tried to explain defensively fighting back tears.

"Oh, wow, he must actually be 15 stones! You need to get to it, Mister, you've got a ways to go before you're the same size as a normal person."

I pushed past the now barely visible girls, for tears were dangerously close to falling from my eyes.

You're going to run until you pass out.

The voice encouraged me and I intended to stick to my goal. I ran through London, ignoring words directed towards me, whether just friendly fans or judgmental skinny people who didn't understand. I ran and ran until my lungs burned and my legs were shaking. My very helpful knees buckled beneath me.

You're pathetic.

I needed to call Phil. But the voice said I didn't need to.

You've taken the easy way and called Phil for far too long. Time to get up and run it yourself.

I looked around and noticed that I hadn't the slightest idea of where I was.

I got out trusty Google Maps and found out that I was actually 5 miles away from the flat. I stood up from the pavement, my legs still vibrating. I tried to take another step only to fall flat on my face yet again. I only started to notice then that people stopped to laugh and take pictures of me. No one offered to help me up. People on their cell phones, people with their friends, all kinds of people. All united in the middle of London to watch some fat kid struggle to stand up off the pavement.

I persevered and tried again to stand up and keep walking. My legs seemed slightly more steady, but were actually starting to feel a little numb. I have very poor coordination so walking without feeling my feet underneath me wasn't going to work. I still tried to walk only to trip and fall on my right arm.

I think I fell funny on it and it made a sound and pointed in a direction that I thought hands weren't supposed to do. I finally decided to asses the situation as it was and call Phil to come pick me up.

"Hey, Dan," Phil started cheerily. It was so good to hear his bright voice again.

"Phil," I stuttered out, tears streaming down my face and coughs interrupting me.

"Dan! What's wrong?!" Phil shouted with concern. I described my location to him and asked him to pick me up. He assured me that he was already in the car and would be there shortly.

Unfortunately, I wasn't able to see his face when he arrived, for I had passed out right after pressing the 'end' button.