Hold On~ A Peter Parker Fanfiction

I Don't Know You?!?

Kelsey's POV

It's seven in the morning, and I'm in the kitchen leaning against Peter with the feeling that if I stand I'll collapse. My head pounds and when I move it seems to bounce off the walls of my brain scattering all of my thoughts. My stomach churns the two strawberries I ate last night sloshing around.

"Kels are you sure you're okay?" Peter asks hesitantly lifting my head so he can rest his hand against my forehead. "I just ate something bad." Or nothing at all.

It seems like I'm looking at a river because his face deforms and blurs as his voice becomes distant. I feel like I'm falling backwards and the space between Peter and I grows as I fall, and there it is the impact like I'm breaking through a floor of glass each shard stabbing deeper than the last.

"KELSEY!"

"What happened" I gasp against my scratchy throat. His eyes are panicked and streaked red with dark bags under his eyes. "I don't know I was gonna ask you the same question."

I release a shaky breath forcing myself, with the little energy I have left, to meet his eyes. "I swear its just a bug" I whisper weakly my shoes becoming very interesting. Peter yawns ready to protect but I stop him.

"Peter you're exhausted just go back to bed I'm fine" I grumble lying my head against the cool marble counter. "You're exhausted to I'm not leaving your side" he counters moving my back to his shoulder.

I want to move prove to him that he's wrong, so he'll go rest, but I can't stop shivering so I wrap my arms around his waist within his jacket and he pulls it around me.

"I don't know what you could've eaten to cause this since we skipped dinner, and I highly doubt a strawberry..." His voice faded as his eyes locked on my small wrists intertwined with his hands. He shouldn't be able to tell this early although, but by the fear in his eyes I know I'm caught.

"Kels when was the last time you had a real meal?" His voice trembles never lifting his eyes from my wrists. I pause my breath hitching how do I answer to where I'm being truthful, but I don't want to turn him away from me.

"Four ish days" I whisper unable to say anything else. He lets his eyes trail up my body from my hands and meets my own. They're broken and confused and I wish I could explain, but there's no excuse for what I've done.

"Why?" His voice breaks and you could see the gears turning with in his head so he could try to find a logical explanation. His vision seemed to fog as he looked right through letting his mouth drop slightly open to breathe in another shaky breath.

There's the dreaded question though, why. Why do I do what I do? Do I like to feel sick? Do I crave the feeling of nothingness swimming around in my stomach? Do I do it for attention?

Well I don't I hate the pain that comes with it, but sometimes I feel like deserve the pain like I'm cleansing myself. I hate never being full, but there's standards that I feel I have to live up to. I don't do this for attention because I I could stop I would, but it's just not that easy trust me I tried whenever I try to eat a meal I'd throw it up because my body wasn't used to the feeling.

"There's this voice inside my head..." I mumble after a long pause of silence. "When I suffered from anorexia a few years ago it started because people called me names like fat, so I turned to exercise. This voice just appeared one day whispering that I should go one more mile..." I cough my words forming a lump in my throat as the horrors unravel in my head.

"Slowly the voice got louder to the point were it convinced me to skip out on meals for days, and no one cared my dad was always gone and people at school just thought of it as a diet and so did I. After awhile though I just saw myself as fat wrote out reasons why I was and everything, and I just ignored the pain because the voice said it would all be worth it."