Unlikely

Chapter Sixteen

*Ana's POV*

Oh Tyler...
"Not now, Ana! I have to treat Jake's wounds!" Tyler hissed at me.
What have you eaten today, Tyler?
"None of your goddamn business!" Tyler retorted.
You ate, didn't you? You fat piece of shit! After all I've done for you, you just have to go and fuck it all up, don't you?
"I didn't eat yet, okay? I'm gonna eat later, though, so don't try to stop me!"
Of course I'm gonna try and stop you. I don't care if you recovered, I don't care that you think you're "handsome" or whatever now. You. Will. Starve. Are we clear?
     "No! I'm tired of counting calories, I'm tired of being skin and bone, and I'm tired of being your fucking slave. Fuck you!" He shouted.
Oh look at you, thinking you're so strong, thinking that you don't want me and that you think you're a fatass who has their life under control. How very wrong you are. Are you forgetting something? I own you. You can't escape me.
"I'm not commending myself to fucking die, Ana! I can't give in! Oh my god, somebody help!"
That person who could've helped, Tyler, is dead. You killed him. Why didn't you talk him down? How are you going to cope?
"Starve...but I can't! But I have to! But I can't!"
But you will. It's the only thing you know to do. Now come on, give in. It'll only kill you.
"No! I can't! Leave me the fuck alone!" Tyler sobbed. His interior was falling apart, but his exterior was stone cold.
That I've come to realize.
Tyler...why not join me? Isn't it fun isolating yourself? Isn't it just marvelous to feel alive and dead at the exact same time? Come on. Why haven't you had any boyfriends? Why doesn't anybody in your family talk to you? There's so many better things you could be doing. Being a better lover, a better son, a better doctor, and, most importantly, skinnier. Now how about you stop acting like a fatass and do something!
"Why? Why do you pick on the weak? Why do you want to kill me so quickly? Why do you hate me?"
They're easier. I know you can relapse. I know you can.
"I don't wanna relapse! I need to get better! Please, spare me!" Tyler begged.
You act like I'm going to do that. What are you doing, begging for your life?
"I can't live with you, so I guess I am! You take away my sense of...of...being alive! I feel like a walking skeleton. I can't stand it. When you come back...I think it's just better if I end it." He admitted.
Can't say you're wrong. But just think of how good you'll look in that coffin...
"No...no...no...this is bad. Usually you're out of my head by now. I can fight you. I will fight you..."
     How are you going to fight with a voice in your head? You might be able to fight me, but you can't win. I will always dominate over you.
     "Stop! You're not even real! You're just a voice in my mind that I created to cope with my insecurities! I'm a doctor! I'm a doctor! I'm a fucking doctor..." Tyler trailed off crying quietly in defeat.
     "Tyler? Are you okay?" Phil asked.
Tell him yes!
     "I'm not. I never am." He responded.
You asshat!
     "Here, talk to me. I'll listen." Phil stated.
     "I have anorexia," Tyler started, "and it's like the disorder takes on an...almost persona. I call her Ana."
     Stop talking! Stop talking! Stop talking! You're giving everything away!
     "And it's like she's a voice in my head. Counting calories, making me exercise(which I hate), making me hate every aspect, every inch or centimeter or atom on my body. I hate it. I hate her. She's like a longer suicide. It's always too late when you realize she's slowly killing you. But the enjoyment from starving, from seeing your ribs and bones. It's beautiful."
     I was honestly very shocked when I saw Phil still standing there with an almost sickly looking pain. "I can't say I've been where you are, I can't say that I've felt what you have or are currently feeling, but I can say that I will help you, and give you advice both as a friend and as a doctor."
     No! You gave it all away! No! You can't do this to me! I'll lose my grip on you! I can't believe that idiot said all of that! Why is he trusting Phil? What did Phil ever do for him?!
     "I hope to see you in recovery, Tyler."
     You're not going to recovery again.
     "I hope to be there."

Holy shit. Welp, sorry for the long ass update. I don't have anorexia, so anything about it is what I've read. This chapter is so sad Alexa play Despacito-
Stay safe!
1-800-273-8255 American suicide hotline