Fifteen

583 18 6
                                    

Horrified.

That's how I'd describe his expression. His eyes widen, and goes stiff. Almost like he's repulsed. He doesn't even meet my gaze.

"That's awful."

"What do you mean?"

"How can you say that? Anorexia isn't a way of life. It's a certain death!" He exclaims.

"You know nothing!"

"I know enough to say that you're still dying. Like you said, you're not better. And you can't see that because you're so selfish! And it's sad to see you like that, just trying to get out so you can finally die in peace." Then I have no comebacks. All my effort is lost. I have no tears left. So I sit there in silence. "Look, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to...."

"No. No, You're right. I am trying to get out so I can starve again." I say, and fiddle with the tube.

"I'm sorry. I just don't know what to say anymore."

"I know."








It's now October 20th.

I've been in the new ward for a little over a week. It's okay, I suppose. I really only like the free time and Yoga. Meditation is meh. I hate all the weird,'connect with the spirits' thing. Especially with Halloween is coming up.

I get so weird around this time. Things just seem more creepy and I get jumpy. Currently, I'm in the common area with Christine and a few others my age googling random things related to Halloween.

We watched the rain fall and listened to the thunder. We wrap ourselves in blankets and sit there shivering from the cold and the nerves.

I jump when I feel a bony finger jab into my back. I turn around to see who did that.  No one is there. I turn back to face the tv. Then I'm tackled by someone. I fall the the floor, a bit angry.

But then I see Finn, and instantly feel laughter. But it doesn't come out. I stand up, and shake my head.

"Seriously?"

"What?" She laughs. "Anyways, how are you?"

"Good." I lie.

In truth, I'm actually doing worse. The voices are coming back. Why summon a demon. There's already one inside of me. And it's taunting me. Jeering at me. Laughing at my stupidity. Now I have to figure out how I escape it.

But how can you escape your own head?







You can't.

To Let Go Where stories live. Discover now