Barely Breathing

Chapter 11: Carter

I wake up to a faint like protruding trough the blinds on the window behind me. “Holy Shit!” I scream as I look at the mirror in front of the bed. I look terrible. I try to roll over but as soon as I am on my left side, I feel vomit start to come up so I lay back down immediately. “So this is what a hangover feels like.” I whisper to myself as I stand up slowly, steading myself. I walk to the bathroom that is attached to the bedroom, convenient. As I walk through the doorway I see a note on the sink;

   I assumed by the amount of alcohol you drank last night that you would want to take a shower, so I snuck in here and put a few towels, shampoo, conditioner, soap, and other girl stuff in here for you! I am in the room next door if you need anything else! Feel better Presley!

                                            -Liam

“How cute” I say looking at the note as I finished reading it, he is so considerate, unlike Niall. The thought of what I saw last night makes me want to vomit again. I immediately walk over to the clean shower and turn it on, after waiting two minutes I just hop right in, not wanting to wait any longer.

  When I finished I raped a large towel around myself, it is warm, and so he must have been in here not too long ago. I walk straight over to the door and shut and lock it, just in case someone decides to burst inside my room. After doing that I walked back over to the large vanity, looking through each of the drawers I see everything I could imagine and more, a straightener, curling iron, make-up, hair accessories, things I couldn’t even imagine. I reach straight for the purple tooth brush and the tooth paste laid out for me and brush my teeth, he thought of everything. I next do my make-up, being extra careful to make myself look good, even though that’s hard to do in my case. After I blow dry my hair I drop my towel, my naked body exposed to my eyes, I look disgusting, and all I see is fat. I knew I shouldn’t have drank last night, there are fat rolls everywhere.

  As I get dressed I continue to look at the new fat rolls that are forming on my bones, by the time I put back on my skinny jeans and sweater, I have seen enough, I walk straight over to the toilet and violently jab my middle finger down my throat, touching my uvula. After a few tries I finally feel the comforting vomit coming up my esophagus. In the middle of the best purge I have had in a week I hear a loud banging on the bathroom door. I am not stopping now; I continue my work and ignore the loud noise.

“Presley open the fucking door!” I hear the clearly male voice yell at me through the locked door, I still ignore them. After about five minutes of him pleading through the door I hear a kick on the door as the remaining contents of the little amount of liquid that was in my stomach spews into the toilet. I hear one last kick and the door bursts open. “What are you doing!?” I now hear a concerned Niall scream at me, I don’t have time to answer before more vomit comes up. “Are you doing this to yourself?” He demands an answer.

“That. Is. None. Of. Your. Business.”  I say between heaves, I am empty.

“What the hell man! Come with me now!” I don’t move, “Move!” he demands again but instead of leaving the room I stand up and look at my stomach, no more rolls, empty, clean, but fat. I look over at him and cut my eyes before Rinsing my mouth out. “How can you do this to yourself?” he asks leaning against the door.

“Why the hell do you care?” I say sarcastically. I don’t need his opinion. “Besides, what makes you think I am making myself vomit? I am hung over you know.” Not a complete lie.

“I have seen girls do this before, I know what you doing.” He says looking into the other room then back at me.

“What?” I say staring at him through the mirror.