Lost

How to Support

Fate, what a silly notion. Is this truly who I'm destined to be? Is this what fate thought best for the kid who won 'most outstanding' in kindergarten? Maybe. Maybe it is what it saw befitting but I guess for now I'll stick to my baggy sweaters that only reveal small frail hands that once were strong and my sweatpants that will never show my toothpick-like ankles. For now the title 'Ollie the Anorexic' will do. Sometimes you go along with the silly notions that fate places in your hands.

___

I sighed as I glanced my messy exterior in the mirror. My hair was thin, often falling out if I was too rough with it. In an attempt to keep the dirty blonde locks I'd given up on running a comb through it. I often looked electrocuted. My pale green eyes looked empty as ever, like those of someone who had learned to despise the world. I continued to stare until I tugged on my grey sweater. To think it once fit me so well. Now it hung loosely over my thinning body. This sweater had been through so many years of torment, just like me.

Next step now that I was dressed and hating everything at a moderate amount. I exited my bathroom. It was rather large, only flaunting our money. I then faced my ball pythons, giving them a little good morning pat. It was what we did every morning. They were my children, my precious Angel and Lucifer. Yes, brilliant names for them if I do say so myself.

They were my pride and joy, the only living beings I truly care for. The group of people I hung out with would often do pet shows, while the ones who have none judge the animals and pick the winners. Angel often won,she was much smaller and very gentle and she often offers little nose boops. Lucifer often would bite and was faster and more grumpy. I still love him though. Maybe it offers some message or maybe I'm just stubborn. But Lucifer was banned from these 'shows'.

I sat at the bench, waiting for the bus in the miserable weather of our small town. It wasn't just a small town, it was a small town with a stupid name. Its name being 'Moose' like the animal. We used to have them around here but when my parents were younger some people completely ran them out of town. Whatever if you dislike the moose dislike them, right?

___

I sat through each class, everything dragging on for an unimaginably long time. The lunch bell rang and bodies rushed out of the classroom. They swarmed hallways, the smell of cheap perfume and lack of deodorant strong.

I was often last to lunch, stopping by my locker to drop off some things talking to a few people that lingered before finally heading to lunch because a teacher found me or something. Then I'd do my sluggish walk all the way down to the cafeteria, it was the same sluggish walk every teenager who was someone does. My dad calls it 'the zombie' but I opt for just walking.

As I sat down at the table empty handed everyone around me urged me to go get an apple or something. See, this was the freaks table. Everyone here was more of a support team than friends. There was Olivia, the bipolar and anxiety ridden one. Jack, the one with depression, really bad depression, it's surprising he even goes to school some days. Kat, with her asbergers. We were a bunch of weirdos, we got stares. We weren't well liked. But Kat insisted we be friends and no one could say no to her grin.

Kat was the glue, if she didn't insist we were friends we would've never spared a glance at anyone. She was always grinning, always making us be safe. Thus why she forced an apple into my hand. "Eat, Ollie." She was always one of few words,her voice cold and icy, like if I didnt take a bite of the apple she'd shove it down my throat. Actually, she probably would.

To avoid having to have an apple forcefully shoved down my throat I grudgingly took a bite, staring into her grey eyes the entire time. Our table was usually like this,tense and hateful. You could easily cut it with a knife. However, Kat once again was the only reason we didn't turn on each other like wild animals. Olivia would probably be the first to stab too. She'd stab, apologize, and just keep murdering us. We weren't the nicest group but we kept each other alive. Literally, we have an unspoken rule to never hurt anyone and to always be there for one another.

As our table fell into its harsh silence, I stopped eating. I'd only gotten through maybe a fourth of the apple, causing Kat to shoot me a look. Jack nudged me in the rib cage, and Olivia kicked me from under the table. This is how we support.