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Chapter Six

6.

Edwards life soon becomes a routine. Breakfast the same. Lunch the same. Dinner the same. Everything the same. He's come to the realisation that he's not going to get out of here without putting in some effort. And the effort that he is putting in, he's realising he doesn't want to go back to life he once thought he felt safe in. But he wants the pills back. He's dizzy and sleepy and sweaty and shaky almost all the time at the moment. In one of his private therapy sessions, he's told its his detox he's going through. After he came out that session, he threw up all of the breakfast he had gulped down. But Ben was there, rubbing his back and telling him it's worth it. This will be worth it. Edward isn't so sure.

He spends the first few days of his visit to this centre curled around the clean, white toilet, a sweaty, shaky mess. Whatever he eats or drinks, Edward throws up. He knows it's the pills coming out of his system, he knows soon he should feel like himself again. But the sad thing is, is that Edward isn't sure what he felt like before the pills came into his life. The pills numbed him and helped him get through the days that seemed to stretch on forever and ever. 

The boys he met on the first day come in past the room to see him. Most of the time he can't even turn around to look at whoever it is, but he yells over his shoulder for them to leave him be. Most of the time they don't leave though. He doesn't mind Ashley, he never really speaks. Just sits in silence on Edward's bed with the bathroom door open so he can watch Edward's pathetic excuse of a life.

Only once has Ashley muttered some words to him, which Edward made out as "It's got to get better, right?" Edward didn't have a chance to reply because another wave of sick washed over him and once again, he was bent over the toilet, wishing his life away. Most of the time though, he's alone. He spends hours wishing he had never been found, wishing that he had been more careful. Why did he leave the flat in the middle of the day? All he can do is sigh. Because he was desperate. That's why. And now, he's just as desperate for some sweet, sweet relief.

"How are you feeling?"

Edward heaves when he hears Ben's voice coming into the room.

"Still throwing up?" he asks, patting Edward on the back, "Don't worry, it'll pass. Get it all out of your system. You'll feel better for it".

Edward shrugs Ben's hand off his back. The last thing he wants right now is to be touched. He's too sweaty and fed up to be touched. He throws up again and then curls into a ball on the floor. His hair is stuck to his head and he can feel tears of sweat running down his face and back and all over his body. And then he feels salty tears running down his face from coming from his eyes. And that makes him begin to cry more, because why is he crying? He's annoyed with himself for showing emotions in front of Ben. In front of anyone. He just wants this to be over. He just wants that blissful relief.

"Ben, please. Ask the nurse for a painkiller. To help with my headache. Please".

"Mate," Ben says and sits on the bathroom floor next to the door, "You and I both know that's not gonna happen".

But that doesn't stop Edward. He begs and begs and begs. For anything that will ease the pain. He's just in so much pain and he needs something to help with that. Why's that such a bad thing? Just something to ease the headache and make him numb again.

"Bet that's how you got started on the pills in the first place,", Ben adds, ignoring Edward's pleas, "Easy way to get addicted. I don't blame you".

Edward sits up and rests his head against the wall, praying the vomiting has stopped, at least for the time being, "If you're not going to get me a painkiller, you might as well go. I don't want to hear a pep talk right now".

"Don't worry, I'm not giving you a pep talk. Be a bit rich coming from me, seeing as I can't even get my life on track".

"How long you been here?" Edward asks, wiping his mouth, tasting the stale taste of vomit and almost gagging.

Ben shrugs, "Few months. But it does help. I know you don't believe me, but they really do help".

"Again,", Edward says, but manages to smirk this time, "No pep talks please".

Ben just grins and stands up. He pulls out from tissues from the box on the bathroom windowsill and hands them to Edward, "Here. You look a state."

"You don't look much better yourself," Edward replies, but takes the tissues gratefully, "Thanks, though".

"See if you're feeling up to dinner tonight. It's hotdog night. Really good," Ben says and then holds up his hand, "See you around".

"Yeah. I'll be here", Edward managed to call back as Ben passes through the bedroom and out the door. Not glancing back once. Edward falls back into a ball on the white, cool bathroom floor. 

He doesn't feel like he needs to be sick, so he closes his eyes and holds the tissue to his forehead, trying to soak up some of the sweat that's pouring out of his body. It doesn't seem to want to cease, months of neglect on his body seems to be catching up on him and is giving him hell for what he did to his poor tired body. He knows he deserves it. He just wishes he didn't. He's just not sure if this is worth it, is life really worth this? He feels himself slipping into the darkness that never seems to cease. Not getting better. Not getting worse. All he knows is that the bleak, empty hole in his heart will not be filled.

He manages to crawl into bed and wrap himself back into the cocoon that made him feel so safe that first night he was brought here. He has dreams, but there're not peaceful. There're fuzzy and creepy and dark. He opens his eyes in an attempt to make it stop. But he can't. The light makes him stomach flip and headache begin to pound even more than before. He quickly shuts them again and rolls onto his other side, still curled up, sweat still running down his back. He knows he looks and smells bad, but he just doesn't care. They did this to him. His mum. His sister. The doctor. The nurses. The boys in here. They all did this to him, by refusing to give him just a small simple painkiller. That's all he wants. Yet he never seems to get any. 

He's struggling to remember why he's here and why he should get better. He knows he should get better and, in some ways, he wants to get better. Other ways he doesn't. He just hopes Ben wasn't lying when he said it does get better. All Edward can do right now is hope.