Help Me

Chapter 4 : Trying To Help

“Uh. What is this?” I asked, looking up at Harry. He just thrown a 5-footlong sandwich in front of me. After I showed him my scars on my stomach, he pled he was going to help me and try to get me out of this stress and depression. So he decided to bring me to a sandwich shop instead so we can actually talk about what we were going to end up doing.

“This is a sandwich,” Harry said proudly, sitting down across from me, opening up the wrapper of the sandwich. I looked down at the sandwich in front of me and then slowly looked up at him.

“I ordered a salad. I swear there was a salad on the menu,” I said. Harry looked at him and shrugged his shoulders. “Can you please go and get the salad I paid my money for,” I said again. My voice was beginning to get frustrated.

“I told them to take the salad back and give you this sandwich instead,” he said. I frowned at him and my lips began to part. Now I’m actually annoyed. Did he actually just take my food for something I did not want? This sandwich has tons of calories and he expects to me eat this? Yeah right. Think again Styles.

“I don’t want this. If you don’t give me back my salad, then I will starve myself for today,” I said. Even though I partly was. Harry took out a sigh and looked at me.

“Listen. This is my way of helping you. This sandwich can actually bring back the color of your skin and eyes back,” Harry said, taking a bite of his sandwich. I rolled my eyes and shook my head.

“Thank you for actually telling me I look sick,” I said.

“Didn’t mean it in that way. But think about it. Do you actually want to look ‘sick’ for the rest of your life?” Harry asked, then afterwards taking a bite of his sandwich. I took out a sigh and looked down at the sandwich.

Why does it feel like it’s mocking me? It’s basically telling me, in it’s high pitched, whining voice, eat me eat me, I’m delicious. I took  out another sigh and looked up at Harry. He was basically watching me while eating his sandwich. He raised his eyebrows at me, pointing his head towards the sandwich on the table. I looked down at the sandwich and picked it up with my hands. If I actually want to look better and feel better, I have to do this one simplest thing.

I took a bite of the sandwich and started to chew it slowly. When I swallowed it, it almost made me feel like I was full. I told myself I didn’t want to eat this anymore and that I was done. But when I looked up at Harry, he stopped eating his sandwich and began to watch me, basically waiting for my next move. I took out a sigh and looked down at the sandwich, taking another bite of it.

For some reason, I felt like shit while eating this sandwich. My stomach was tied in knots and I didn’t want to eat this anymore. I was so used to not eating this much of food, that I can decide if I’m full or not. But right now, I’m full and I don’t want to eat this shit anymore. I had to find a way to give out an excuse to stop eating this. Then I got it.

“Oh my God, it feels like I’m about to be sick,” I said, putting down the sandwich and putting my hand on my mouth. Harry’s voice then gotten worried.

“Do you want me to drive you home?” Harry asked.

“No, no. Let me just go to the toilet. I’ll be right back,” I said, standing up from the table and walking towards the toilet.

I pushed open the door of the toilet and let it close behind me. I put my hand back by my side and went over to a stall, opening the door, and locking it behind me. I went down on my knees and pulled back my hair with a hair tie. I put two fingers in my mouth and a moment later, I threw up in the toilet. I then put my fingers back in my mouth once again and then I threw up again.