The Skinny Boy Tales (boyxboy) - Completed-

Chapter 8

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Who is going to have this chapter dedicated to them? hmm? (:

Enjoy!

Chapter 8

They say that time heals all wounds; however, I’m here to say that whoever ‘they’ are, they got that fact all wrong. Time doesn’t heal wounds; time is the big bully pilling apart the stitches that close a wound.

Time only makes things worse.

This is what I learned in the coming weeks at the skinny boy house. At first, I thought that I would get used to the insane ways, the shoving food and constant weigh-ins. I thought that time would help me accept where I was and help me get over my problems.

Boy, I was wrong, very wrong.

I found myself entangled in a series of strings, each pulling me in a different direction. One string, the one attached to my waist, pulled me into the kitchen. The string around my neck pilled me into each and every therapy session. The tightest string, the one wrapped so fiercely around my chest pulled me into Steven’s welcoming arms.

A thousand other strings pulled me through each and every activity until I no longer felt like I had even the slightest bit of control over my life.

I was nothing more than a puppet.

At first, Steven served as my shoulder to lean on, and it was a wonderful shoulder; however, somewhere down the line, it slowly dwindled away, losing its effectiveness almost entirely. The other boys tended to stay away from me since my rise in the skinny boy ranks.

Somehow, gaining the freedom to eat unsupervised made me the newest social outcast. Rich didn’t speak to me.

It wasn’t like I missed talking to him; it just stung to be so… ignored.

Geoffrey seemed a bit more forgiving. At least he still made eye contact with me.

Steven told me that they were just jealous. He informed me that Rich would probably never have the luxury that we had due to his past reckless behavior, He also let me in on the fact that poor Geoffrey remained in such a jumbled mess that he probably wouldn’t be stable enough to handle the freedom without abusing it.

“You’re the strong one,” he would whisper to me when he snuck into my bed past lights out. “They know that you’re the strong one; they know that you’re going to get out of here.”

I didn’t feel strong. Hell, I felt like a leaning tower of Jenga. All I needed to crumble over was a stiff wind to puff me into the wrong direction.

That puff came all too quickly.

Winter hit hard and fast, covering the grounds in the thickest blanket of pure white snow. Most people in Ohio hated the snow. It came too often and made the roads dangerous. People were late to work.

Blah. Blah. Blah.

I loved the snow. It covered everything, made it the most perfect shade of white. It felt as if the snow was natures way of fixing its imperfections; it felt like the worlds own band aid, covering the things it wasn’t quite ready to face yet.

After class dismissed, the boys and I disbanded, each going our own ways. As usual, Geoffrey and Rich were the exception. They giggled together and slipped away into Rich’s room. Steven seemed a bit distracted as he made his way to his own bedroom. 

I plopped down onto my bed and immediately curled into a ball, pulling my thick comforter around me like a cocoon. 

As the silence settled over me, I thought comfort would soon follow; however, my body ached, and a small headache bloomed behind my eyes. My mind decided at that exact moment to recite everything it wrapped its fingers around.