Missing Streams

Unspeakable - 14

Staring into the darkness, I wondered what they were doing to Scarlet. Shaving her head or cutting open her scalp or-

Shouldn't be thinking about that stuff. I needed some sleep, and I wasn't getting any like this. I needed to clear my mind, and decided to wash my face. It took a bit of energy to force myself out of bed, though.

***

Before I could wash my face, I had thrown up again. Even though I'd barely eaten that day, it apparently wasn't enough. This place must have had calorie packed food or something, because even when I barely touched my food I couldn't keep it down. I'd have to start avoiding food altogether, or at least when I could afford it. Simon would start to get worried if he saw me leave behind too much food, and that was my only problem. Maybe I could talk to someone about going on a special diet or something?

No, they wouldn't have that. Wexler was already claiming that I should be gaining weight - a thought that made me nauseous - so they wouldn't let me avoid their protein packed meals. Would I be able to skip meals instead? Nobody seemed to take attendance or anything, so I decided to try skipping breakfast the next day.

Until then, though, I was sitting on the bathroom floor. I could feel my stomach churning as it wished only for something to eat, and I wished only for it to shut up for a single day. I was trying my best, but my body was fighting me about it. I just wanted to keep my weight in check and avoid throwing up. It was harder than it used to be, but I was determined to keep it up.

Staring at the pale skin of my abdomen, I felt a familiar sensation.

***

Hidden away in a shower stall, I ran my fingers along my ribcage, if I could only feel my ribs. All I could feel was the rippling fat that never left, that was always there when other guys called me a pussy or beat me up. My own body seemed to be making fun of me every day.

That unspeakable urge reared up from within my subconscious, trying to weave its way into my brain. I refused to think about it, trying to block it out. It wasn't that easy to lose weight, I couldn't just get rid of it like that.

I didn't have anything sharp anyways.

***

My face contorted into a mess of tears and mucus, I was digging my nails into the rolls of my stomach. Almost wishing they could tear out my intestines so I couldn't eat anymore. But my nails weren't even strong enough to draw blood like they used to, just leaving small red marks in my bloated skin. It was the best I could do to satisfy that urge, hoping that I might be able to go to sleep that night.

I could only find solace in that I wasn't alone. Knowing that Scarlet had similar urges - urges that refused to speak, acting instead. And Scarlet let them act, as showed her crescent shaped cuts of arms too long spent abused by sharpened blades. She let them act upon her body, perhaps not only her arms. Perhaps her legs bore marks of late nights and hidden razors. Maybe her abdomen was decorated with battle scars that weren't considered honourable.

Maybe I could have asked about it. Talked about it. But I didn't, choosing instead to hide in a shower stall in the early hours of the morning, stomach growling and skin rippling. Wishing my skin was ripping instead.

Shouldn't be thinking about that stuff.