You and I, we just weren't created to survive (joshler) (not edited)

Chapter five - sick

"No one will love you if you're unattractive"

Later that day Josh is out with a group of maybe four of his friends for lunch... well, friends may be a little bit of an overstatement. Loneliness clouds his thoughts as everyone chatters around him, taking photos of their food and each other for social media - he is ignored. The main reason he went out was because one of the group, his only actual friend, was about to contact his therapist to talk about how "Joshua is getting bad again". Little do they know he never really got better.

Half the food on his plate is consumed, the other half hidden strategically under a napkin. He tries to join in the casual conversation to distract himself from the self-disgust.

"How have you eaten so much so fast!" A woman opposite his exclaims, genuine shock written on her face as she leans on the table, almost putting her elbow in her side salad. This is the first comment that hits Josh in the gut, making a certain sickness rise in stomach. He forces a laugh, subconsciously digging his nails into his sleeve-covered forearm.

"I don't know, I guess I was just hungry." He replies with just as much enthusiasm, the words tasting sour and wrong in his mouth. The woman quickly loses interest, going back to talking to the other people surrounding them. Josh waits for about five more minutes until the intense sickness and claustrophobia overwhelms the poor boy, and he excuses himself to go to the bathroom.

Said bathroom seems way too far away and Josh is relieved when it's empty. He closes and locks the main door, avoiding the mirror and walking into one of the stalls, kneeling in front of the toilet. Almost mechanically, his fingers are shoved to the back of his throat, and calories are thrown up into the toilet. It feels like a weight is lifted off his shoulders and he almost collapses, standing up on shaky legs and flushing the toilet.

On the way out his can't help but look in the mirror, can't help but glare at his reflection... until his phone goes off and panic sets in. Sighing, he reaches in his back pocket, preparing for the text from the "only actual friend that threatened to tell on him to his therapist" saying he's outside the bathroom and is worried. Only, it's not from a fake friend, but from the suicidal boy he added in his contacts yesterday.

Tyler: hey

Very short and sweet.

426 words