It started out as a relief. Finn was eager to finally get out of hospital. He was glad it was over. The week leading up to his release, he was excited and spoke about how he couldn't wait to finally leave in group therapy. He made it sound so easy and little but inside, he knew it was a great accomplishment. Though most of the time he couldn't see it himself, he had improved during his time there. Still, he felt small, but he wouldn't show it. It wasn't manly to. As soon as the door closed behind him and he was outside, it hit him. The structure and stability of hospital life was gone. No one would set up his schedule for him or keep a close eye on him anymore. It was all up to him to get through it. His mind screamed, "I'm not ready, I can't face this on my own." But he kept his head up and took a deep breath in before telling himself, "I'll make it through this too." Then, it was time to wait.
...
Finn hadn't even been out of the hospital for an hour and his dad was already starting to annoy him. First, he was 40 minutes late picking him up. That was enough for Finn to get angry. His dad hadn't seen him outside of those bland hospital walls for four months, and he didn't seem eager to get him back home to their own home. When he pulled up to the hospital, he didn't even bother getting out to greet him. He just looked at Finn and gestured with his head to get into the car. He did, and they were on the road, making their way home. It was painfully quiet. Adding insult to injury, his dad looked at him after a minute and said. "Wipe that look off your face, I was only ten minutes late." Finn didn't bother arguing. It was pointless.
Finn turned and stared out the window with his thick brows furrowed. For a brief moment, he thought, I bet he wishes I would've died there in my room that day, before shaking away the thought. He wasn't going to be like that anymore. He was going to try to not be so negative. He decided was going to change his whole outlook, and his actions. That meant changing his attitude and more importantly changing his habits. He knew that there was a distinct difference between snacking and binging. With the line so thin, it would be hard to stay on track, but he was determined. Right away, his dad tested him with one sentence, "I have some Blue Ribands in the glove box." Time stopped for a brief second as he thought about the chocolate covered biscuits wrapped in blue foil. He used to buy them all the time and hide them under his bed. It was one of his favourite snacks to binge on.
He was 16 years old, 5'9 and 16 1/2 stone. He didn't get that way from eating salads. No, he got that way from a dark cloud of self hate looming over him that could only be numbed by eating. He couldn't explain it in a way that made sense. Food just made him feel better. Some people drank, some people used drugs. Finn ate. What was the harm in that? He had a routine; once a week or so after school before his dad would get home from work, he'd walk to the store and buy loads of snacks. Enough to hold him off. Then, he'd hide the stash and stuff the wrappers down the side of his mattress between it and the wall. It worked for him. That is until... Well, that was all behind him now.
Today was his first day of freedom. Wednesday the 10th of July 1996. Five minutes into the car ride home and he already had a choice to make. Would he break and indulge himself in the wafers covered in sweet chocolate, or would he sit and keep staring out the window, refusing to stray from his path of recovery? He pondered his choices for a second, then opened the glovebox. Just one. That's the difference between snacking and binging. He'd allow himself one snack. He wouldn't go overboard this time. When he opened the wrapper, he felt excited. The crinkling of the packaging made the pleasure centres of his brain fire off. Another rush was sent to his brain as he began to chew on the crispy treat. Halfway done with the bar in a few seconds, a loud noise erupted from behind the car, overpowering the music playing from the radio. Finn looked behind them, and- oh shit.
A group of kids from school rode on motorbikes. He recognised three of the bikes, and four of the people. Rae Earl, Izzy Baxendale and Chloe Gemmel - three of the most popular girls in the small town of Stamford were right in front of his dad's crap car and Finn was mortified. Izzy rode on the back of Chop Peters, Chloe and Rae had their own bikes and a mystery guy with a helmet on was on the side of the gang. Finn sank in his seat, facing his dad to avoid being seen. "Finn?" He heard a familiar voice call out. Shit. He pulled the sleeves of his jumper down, conscious of covering his arms. Then, he wiped his mouth, getting any melted chocolate off the corners of his mouth before turning, rolling the window down and looking out. It was Archie, his best friend since childhood. Archie. With a gang of popular kids? Popular girls? What had happened since Finn was gone?
