Powerful((High School))[[DISCONTINUED]]

Chapter Seven

[[Trigger Warning: Depression, kinda eating disorders and voices]]

Tom sits in the bed, simply looking at the ceiling, lost in his own thoughts. Of course, his mum had to come by and stop him. "Thomas, it's time for you to eat dinner," she says softly, he nods gently, the nurse using the remote control to put Tom in a sitting position, putting a plate of food in front of him. "Thank you," he mutters, taking the spoon with his right hand, shakily eating the food since he wasn't able to eat with his dominant hand.
"So, when should the paralysis go away?"
"Tomorrow morning, I presume," the nurse assures her. "Alright, thank you."
The nurse nods and leaves, letting Tom and his mother stay within the room.
"Mum, when I get out can you make dinner? Or lunch or whatever. Hospital food doesn't taste very good," Tom puts the spoon down, only had eaten the jello.
"Yes, but you need to eat more than the jello, alright?" she sighs. "Fine," he groans, starting to eat the sorry excuse of a meal.
His mum sits down on the chair next to him. "Um, Mum? You alright?" he notices her whole demeanor just seems off. "Yes Thomas, I'm fine, please don't worry about me," she smiles reassuringly. "Okay," he finished up the meal and the nurse put his bed back down.
"Thomas are you alright?" his mother asks him. "Um, yes? I mean, as good as, I mean, you know what I mean mum," he seems quite confused. "You sure sweetheart?"
"Mum, I am? What's up with you?" he starts to worry slightly. What if she knows? Is he in trouble? Is she going to kick him out? He's probably going to get a long lecture, isn't he?
"Don't do this to yourself."
Yep! She knows, sh*t, how is he going to get out of this? Just play dumb? Yeah, that'll do.
"What, um, Mum, what do you mean?" he mutters, trying to look way from her. "Please, Thomas. I want to help you. I'm your mother, I'm here to at least try and help you," she puts her hand on her chest. "Mum, I'm fine. I-I promise," he mutters.
"If you say so, but I'm serious. If there's something going on, you can tell me. I'm not going to judge you, I'm not your father."
"Y-Yes ma'am," Tom sighs. He tries to put himself in her situation. A son with epilepsy, who had an alcoholic, verbally and emotionally abusive, father, who's trying to get over that. As she struggles working two jobs to keep money steady, having to pay for everything on her own. It really must be tough, especially since Tom isn't exactly the best kid, using his agility to his own, such as sneaking out, even if he's fourteen.
"Hey mum? Are you seriously okay? You don't look so good."
"I'm just tired, that's all Thomas."
He takes a deep breath and sighs. "Okay Mum, I'm going to try and sleep, okay?" he mutters, closing his eyes, she turns off the lights and closes the door. "Alright, sweet dreams," she sits in the chair, watching other rooms' lights turn off.

A few days later, after Tom had recovered, and was able leave. He was sitting it his room looking through his phone. He soon noticed Edd had texted him an he completely ignored it. Tom opened the text and read over what Edd said. Tom read it over again to make sure he was reading it correctly.
"I-I, sh*t, I should of guessed this was going to happen," he just stares at his phone, before shakily replying to him, 'I don't know what your talking about, I'm fine, I promise,' he sent a smily face emoji just to prove his point, even if he was ultimately lying.
To his own surprise, Edd ignored the text and sent him a link to a news article. Tom raises one of his eyebrows and opens the link, skimming over it, before reading a part of it.
"I knew it, I fu*king knew that little asshole was up to something," Tom groans, he knew Tord was no good. "Tom, sweetie is everything alright?"
"Yeah, j-just a bit loopy!" he yells back, it wasn't all a lie. He'd been put on some stronger seizure medication, and after a talk with the doctor, actual anti-depressants, and not to mention all of the drugs he was on at the hospital, so it was a more believable than you'd expect. He was loopy, but was able to still function.
"Well, maybe take a nap?!"
"Alright Mum!" he sighs, looking at his phone, walking over to over to his desk trying to find his charger, opening its drawer to find an X-Acto knife, a bit of blood dried on it. He slowly grabs it, looking at it carefully. His eyes water up before he puts it back in the drawer, slamming that closed, jumping on his bed, grabbing his stuffed bear, holding it close to him. "Why am I crying, it's just an X-Acto knife," he mutters into his stuffed bear, he hated the fact he would break down like this. He saw it and he couldn't contain his own crying.
He never found it fair. He honestly never wanted two powers, with or without the seizures. He didn't want to doubt himself so much. He didn't want to always think of the worst. He just wanted to be normal, or at least as normal as he can be, being a Super and all. He never got that, and he feels if he's the only one.
Tom looked at his phone. Edd had replied again.
'I don't think the doctors would lie about something like that. Tom, I want to help. Just talk to me.'
'Edd, I'm fine, seriously,' is all Tom could say, he waits for the response, holding tightly to his phone. 'Why do you always push me away?'
'I don't do that,' Tom tightens his grasp on his phone, he wishes this wasn't happening. 'But you do! Any time I try and help you tell me you're fine, that you don't need help, please.'
'What do you expect me to tell you? Just, give me a bit and I'll call you,' he put his phone back down, still crying into his pillow, Edd responded but Tom didn't dare to look at it, he was just softly crying into his pillow.
How dare you? You're such a baby. Stop crying you insignificant asshole?! No one cares about you! So stop crying, clean your sorry ass up and do it. You are so fu*king useless. Get up! You are so fu*king useless, no one ones your sorry ass!
His head is the thing telling him these. He starting choking on his own cries, trying not to get the attention of his mother. The awful things keep flowing through his mind which make it harder for him.
He whispers things back to it, he starts hearing footsteps and then a creak of his doors, it's his mother. Who else would it be?
No! No, no no! Not her, not now! She's not going to help you Thomas, just tell her to leave. Don't let her know. She already hates you because of how much you cost her. First the seizure meds, now a stronger dose and anti-depressants. Do you really think she wants to deal with this right now?
"Thomas, sweetie, are you alright?" his mother walks into his room. "N-No," he cries softly, not looking at her. He feels the weight of his bed change knowing she sat on it. "Thomas, please, look at me for a second here."
What's wrong with you! Tell her you're fine and you just need to be left alone! You idiot! Don't let her do this to you! What thinks you actually deserve it?
He reluctantly sits up, squinting his eyes softly, trying to ignore it, looking at his mother. "Tell me what's wrong, I'm not like your father, I won't hurt you," she says gently. "M-Mum, I-I'm, I'm just such a screw up. I saw a damn X-Acto knife and I just s-started crying! I'm sorry Mum," he tried to stop his tears from falling, but he can't stop himself.
What a screw up, you said it yourself. Can't even stop yourself from crying. What are you? Two years old? Stop crying. If you're going to bring your mum into this, don't act like a fu*king child.
"You aren't a screw up, I promise," she smiles, talking in her motherly voice. "I am Mum, I-"
"Thomas. You aren't. Look at me, whatever people have put in your head, it's not true. You are my son, and I don't like seeing this. You didn't tell me before, and I want you to know that you can tell me," she takes him in a hug, he cries into her shoulder, stuttering incoherent things trying to communicate to his mother, she only continues to try and calm him down.
What a wimp, a whiny mummy's boy. You can't even calm yourself down. Just tell her to leave! It's all okay, you're fine. Then get to your business.
"No, no, no," he says quietly and soon starts repeating it over and over. His mum continues to rub his back, telling him it's okay, and than he's alright, yet his own head was drowning out what she was saying.
Well, that was until; something clicked, though he doesn't know what. He stopped crying, mostly because his eyes couldn't produce anymore, and he stopped talking.
"Thomas, are you alright? Do you, do you want to talk?" she rubs his shoulder. "W-Why do you care?" it's all he said, all he wanted to say. "You're my son. Of course I care?"
"But why? Just why? What is there a reason?" he looks at his legs which are crossed, sitting on the bed.
"Why? You're my son. I feel the need to protect you, I really do hate seeing you like this," she says, again using that motherly tone of voice. "I-I'm sorry Mum, b-but-"
"You need me to leave you alone? Alright, just as long as you give me your X-Acto Knife," she sighs in defeat. "Don't, n-no, just...It-Its in my desk drawer," he mutters as she stands up to grab it. "Mum-"
"I care, and I don't want you hurting yourself."
"I-I'm sorry Mum," he holds his bear tighter. "Sweetie. It's okay, if you need anything, come and get me. I'll help," she smiles, walking out as he nods.
You idiot, what are you going to use now?! A fu*king pencil? What do you want? What do you get? Sneak in her room and get it back! You deserve pain.
Yet, Tom ignored it, wiping his tears, and he grabs his phone, calling Edd. Just like he said he would.
Like he would care Thomas! Put the phone down. No one cares about your sorry little ass. It's a whole facade that they put up to trick you. They don't care.
"Tom! You called me! Thank you, are, are you actually going to talk to me?"
"I-I-I'm going, I'm going to try," he mutters softy. "Please, Tom, I just want to help," Edd tries to reassure him. "Look, it's, it's quite simple. I don't like myself. Never have, and still don't," he takes a deep breath, "just, I know. I'm sorry."
"What did you think I was going to say Tom?"
"I-I thought you were going to say something like, 'Tom, you shouldn't hate yourself, I love you, you're by best friend, I'd do anything for you,' b-but I know that's something more of what Matt would say. I-I'm sorry," Tom takes another deep breath.
"I'm, I know Tom. I know that you're hurting, and I will probably never know how much it hurts, but I'm serious. We, at least I, really care about you, Tom. Please. I don't know if you stop at once, try to cut down to nothing, or whatever. Just do what you can to stop. Please."
"Edd, I-I, just. I-It's harder than you'd think. B-But, I'll t-try," he sniffles, mostly from the crying he had done before. "Thank you Tom," Edd seems very relieved.
"I-I said I'll try. E-Edd, I-I'm not promising anything."
"Tom, I know. Just, you said you'll try, and just, please do that."
"Y-Yeah, okay," Tom slightly nods. "Do, you want to talk about the article?"
"As much a-as I hate the guy. I seriously don't t-think he's in on it. W-We all saw he had a legitimate anxiety attack, h-he, I just, don't see it."
"He may of had one, but that doesn't mean-"
"Tom, I gotta go, just, stay safe, okay?"
"Alright," Tom says softly as Edd hangs up. Tom puts his phone down and heads into the kitchen, his mum sits at the table on her laptop. "Umm, Mum? I-I was wondering. Do I still have to go to the doctor tomorrow for my c-check-up?"
"From what I know, yes. They check to make sure everything is alright. Are you worried?"
"N-No ma'am," he shakes his head. "You should eat some lunch, okay?"
"I'm not hungry, I'm fine."
"Just eat a snack at least, please," she looks up from her computer, completely this time to look him in the eyes. The one thing they had in common, the lack of eye? The black eyes? Whatever they may be.
"Mum-"
"Tom. I've told you what happens if you don't eat. I know first hand, and I don't want that happening to you. Just eat something," she gives him a sympathetic sigh, but her tone of voice was almost, icy, in a way. "Y-Yes ma'am," he nods, sluggishly moving to the pantry, grasping some crisps to eat.
He opens the bag, sitting at the table. "Mum, why are you letting me do this?" he mutters softly.
"Because I know how hard it actually is. You can't just stop the habit and go back to eating normally that quickly," she closes her laptop. "It's not that bad M-Mum," he says quietly. "Yes, but it can always get worse, it's not something you put off as nothing."
Tom simply nodded. His mother had some eating disorder when she was a teen, and she told Tom this, wanting to help him, but she didn't seem to do very well, Tom is now developing his own, as much as she tries to stop it. She tries not to encourage Tom to starve himself, but not to be to pushy. It was always a grey line she struggled to clear.
You failed her. You continued to do this, absolutely wonderful, thing to yourself, but you didn't listen. What makes you think you deserve this? You failed her, why continue to try, just do it. Continue. This is what makes you safe. It's why you are becoming good enough Thomas.
Tom slowly stops eating the crisps, looking at them and then looking at his mum. "Eat the whole bag. That's all you have to eat, I know you ate a lot at the hospital, sweetie, just eat the crisps."
He nods, slowly eating them again. He ate pizza at Edd's house, only not to be rude, hated every bit of it.
Don't listen to her. You don't need it. You have had way too much food from the hospital! Stop eating the damn crisps you fatty! You don't want this! Listen to me! You don't deserve to eat this!
Tom tried his best not to listen to the voice in his head, just focusing on eating. As much as Tom really didn't want to admit it, he was actually enjoying it, which he hated.
After he finished, he threw away the bag. "Thomas, tomorrow eat an actual meal, alright? You can eat some ramen later tonight if you want to."
Normally, when his mum wasn't home, he didn't eat breakfast, ate whenever the school forced him to eat, and then ramen at night, but he didn't feel in the mood for it.
He nods, heading up the stairs and into his room, sitting on the bed. When he was at Edd's house, Tord didn't want to eat, but he didn't look malnourished in anyway, but he always had on that jacket so it was hard to tell.
Thomas, darling. Why would you blame him? He looks just like you and your fat ass. He definitely looks skinnier than you. How about you try more? Go back to the app, just don't eat at school. It's not like the teachers care if you eat or not. They won't say anything as long as you don't say anything or someone else doesn't. You don't need it.
He slightly nods. If he just eats breakfast, only when his mum is home, and dinner, but only when she makes it, that might be enough for him. He grabs his phone, looking at it softly when all the sudden Matt calls him and scares Tom.
"Ah! Oh, um, hey Matt? Why'd you call me?"
"Hospital food is not very good is it? Remember when I had to be hospitalized for my hypoglycemia? Anyways, that food is not very good in taste, as it is actually healthy, but! I wanted to know if you and your mum want to come to our house for dinner. My mum said it would be a nice thing to do! And of course I want to be nice to my friends!"
Tom just know Matt is beaming with a smile on the other side. "U-Um, maybe. Let me ask my mum," he runs out, with his phone. "Get your mum and ours can talk," Tom said quietly, giving the phone to his mum, a few seconds later they start talking, and Tom just looks at the ground, not saying anything
Around five or ten minutes later she puts down the phone. "Tom, we don't have to go if you don't want to. It's like a Barbecue and y'all would swim in Matt's pool, Edd and his family are going but you don't have to," she says in a soft tone of voice. "If I go, you're going to make me eat right?"
"Thomas, we've been over this. I'm not going to force you to eat whole meals, at least not right now, as much as I want to, I hate seeing you like this, but I won't make you. It will make me extremely happy."
She's guilt tripping you. It's working! Don't let it! Thomas don't let it work. You don't want to let it work! You like this, you love this, you want this, and you know you NEED this.
"W-When is it?"
"Tomorrow night, are you sure you want to go? I'm not forcing you," she says in a gentle voice. "Y-Yes, I want to go," he nods. "Alright, it's almost four, you can rest if you like, or maybe you'd like to play a board game?"
"N-No ma'am, I'm good, um, heh," he scratches the back of his head, "um, I-I'll just take my phone back, I-I, um-"
"It's okay, here," she hands him his phone, he nods and quickly moves to his room, grabbing the bear. He smiles, his mum gave it to him the day before his parents divorced, she said it would help him get through tough times, as it did.
You're fourteen and and you still have stuffed animals? Grow up, you don't need a stupid stuffed teddy bear, you are a teenager. Act like one.
Tom takes a deep breath, getting onto his laptop, playing a few games, trying his best not to listen to the overhead voice. He didn't want to listen, as compelling as it all was.

Words: 3343 Words.