To Let Go

Twenty Six

Two Weeks Later

Recovery.

For some, helpful. A self discovering journey. It helps them, and ultimately turns them into semi-interesting people. They become someone. A life. They have their bodies, their souls.

For me, it was a pointless struggle. I just relapsed. But I choose to embrace it. I don't care. I'm here to finish what I started all those years ago. I wait for death. I'm supposed to know that it isn't healthy. But thing is, I don't want to recover. I want to finish. I want the end goal.

These bones. These lovely bones that I see on all the patients I treat. I want that again. I want to fit my fist around my arm and my hands around my upper thigh. I don't want to feel, hunger or pain. Just the minuets pass away. The seconds counting down until I slip into a deep bliss. The loving arms of death. Here I am again.
Back to where I started.

I enter Layne's room. Her meal tray in hand. It came time for me to start to watch her eat. She hasn't been progressing "fast enough". Honestly, it breaks my heart to force feed these children, but sometimes it gives me pleasure knowing I can not only control my diet, but theirs. I am in control.

I set the tray down, and she stares at me.

"Go on. Uncover it." She glares, and does so.

"Great. This is totally gonna work out."

"You need to eat."

"Good Lord! Why do you say such hypocritical ideals!?" She throws her hands up in the air.

"Pardon?"

"You! You and your darned meal plans and spreadsheets about my health! Jeez, you can't even swallow a cup of coffee without throwing up."

"Layne-" I say calmly, already fed up.

"No! I can't do this! I want another doctor!" She demands, now pacing around the room. My head begins to spin.

"Layne. Eat." I push the spaghetti towards her.

"I'm. Not. Hungry." She plants herself defiantly the bed.

"Don't you want to go home?" I try the whole ,'get better method' even though it's a lost cause.

"I bet it's real nice, Chota. Starving yourself in front of anorexics and bulimics. Thinking no one will notice. WELL GUESS WHAT!??!! I NOTICED!"

"You have ten seconds to calm down, sit down, and eat your food." I say, completely on edge.

"Why should I have a doctor who's getting worse quickly when I'm supposed to be getting better?!"

"Wait, what is she talking about, Emma?" I turn to face a very shocked Leo, who nearly dropped his coffee cup from the cafe downstairs.

"This doesn't concern you." I say harshly, and walk out. I stumble, and catch the door handle, steadying myself. A memory comes back to when I was first discharged. Finn wanted me to go upstairs and I tripped and grabbed the banister for support.

I stumble forward, a searing spin collecting in my head. My vision swims. I hear my name called by Leo. A boy I once knew, yet never knew. Funny how life brings you into certain circumstances that will ultimately either obliterate you completely or build you up. Meeting Leo Roth obliterated me.

The floor comes closely. Suddenly, I'm on the ceiling, and below the ground and everywhere are once. Yet no where at all.

I feel like ashes, floating through the wind. Like a leaf on water. Yet I'm being compressed and squeezed.

It was everything at once.

      Then  

                                                               there  
                               was
   

                                   nothing.