Skin and Bones

I slowly open my eyes and blink a few times when I still see nothing but darkness. Mikey has the darkest curtains in the world – absolutely no light escapes through them.

I’m in Mikey’s room.

Why am I realizing this now? I’ve been awake for almost a minute – well, slumbering, but technically awake – and it isn’t until now that I realize I’m in Mikey’s room?

I ran. I left.

Why is realization of everything coming to me so slow? Am I losing my mind?

She hates me.

Each time I remember something new, it hurts more.
I reach over and turn on the lamp on the dresser – hoping the light will stop my mind. The room lights up and I stretch myself out a bit while still lying down – preparing myself to get up.

I look up and suddenly see a poster that I’ve never noticed before.
I snort a laugh. Mikey truly is a geek. A poster of Princess Leia over his bed?
I snort a laugh again. He probably beats off to her every night.
He beats off every night.

EW!

I shoot up from under his covers and off his mattress. I dust off invisible – perhaps imaginary – sperm, before I shutter visibly and violently.

Ew. I just slept in cum-soaked sheets – filled with Mikey’s cum!

I gag once, but then stop myself. I haven’t eaten much in the last few days – there would be nothing to throw up.
I decide to get out of Mikey’s cum-soaked room – and perhaps never return – and walk down the hall and into the kitchen. It’s empty.
I spot a note on the countertop. Have they all left?
Wait, it’s Tuesday! What time is it?

I look around the room at the walls. I turn around and spot a clock above the doorway. I don’t believe what it says. 20 past 1?
I quickly turn around and walk to the counter. I look down at the note.

Hi Frank.
I’ve gone to the store to pick up a few things, so the two of us can make some cookies and muffins.
The boys are in school. I thought it would be best for you to get a day off.
I’ll be home soon. Please, eat whatever you want.
Barb.

They let me stay home from school.
My entire body and my whole mind freeze from that one thought. I imagine them coming home, feeling sorry for me and asking me what’s going on. I’m gonna tell them. They’re gonna be shocked. Maybe they’ll refuse to believe me, so I have to pull up my shirt and reveal my bruises. Then they’re gonna be shocked and cry and…call the police. I’m gonna be taken away.
Or let me stay here?

I snap out of my thoughts.
It’s only a dream.
I frown.
What if it’s all a dream?
I swallow hard, before I slowly move a hand up and place it on the side of my chest. I close my eyes – then squeeze.

“Argh!” I scream – unable to stop myself. My body crumbles and I have to grab a hold of the counter to keep myself from falling to the floor.
It hurts – and it doesn’t feel good.

I pull my hand away and hold onto the counter. I breathe slowly – as deep as I can. I focus on making the pain stop.
I slowly blink open my eyes. When there’s no pain, I move. When there’s still no pain, I pull myself together.
I know I need something to cheer me up. Some people go for food.
I know I need to eat something, but…

I squeeze my eyes shut.
I can do this! I can eat! I’m skinny. I’m thin – too thin. My body is tiny. I need to eat!
I open my eyes and edge closer to the white door. It’s like moving towards a daddy longlegs – you know it can’t kill you, even if it does bite you, but you can’t bring yourself to touch it or pick it up.
The handle is within reach. It’s just an arm-length away. It’s right in front of me.
My breath is shaky and so is my hand as I reach up and grab a hold of the white handle. My knuckles turn white.
I pull.

The compressed air in the fridge escapes, and even though I can’t smell it, then the thought of the smell still makes me gag inwardly. I keep it in, though.
Before I pull the door further, I make a decision: Go for any fruits. If there are none, then go for yoghurt. Yoghurt isn’t so bad, right? It’s like milk with fruit. Yeah! Yoghurt!

I pull the door open and look in. I don’t see any fruits, but I quickly spot a carton of yoghurt in the fridge door. I rip it out of the holder and push the door close.
The door slams, and I’m thankful for not standing in the direction of the last puff of air escaping the fridge.

I grab a bowl and a spoon – I’ve been in this kitchen enough to know where Mikey gets the things from – and sit down by the small table. It’s worn and scratched. Ever since I started coming over here, they’ve had this table. I remember eating home-made cookies and oat-meal at this table – in this chair. I wonder if it’s the chair Gerard usually sits in – if we’ve always shared this chair.

While I’m thinking, I pour a small amount of yoghurt into the bowl and without thinking, I dip the spoon into it and bring it into my mouth. I suck on it until I taste the metal.
I quickly pull the spoon out of my mouth and stare at it – the dim stainless steel shimmering slightly in the kitchen lights.
It’s okay. It was only one spoonful. It’s good. It’s good to eat. It’s okay to eat.
I have to eat.

Suddenly all of my attention is on the spoon as I dip it into the thick substance. A few drops fall from the – now white-covered – spoon and I try my all to keep my breathing normal.
There’s that word again – that term. Normal. Explain it to me? Please?
I bring the spoon close to my mouth, and I stick my tongue out to touch it. When I look down, the tip of my tongue is white.
I need to eat.

I bring my tongue back into my mouth. When the fruity taste spreads in my mouth, I actually smile. It tastes good.
I breathe a sigh of relief, before I laugh lightly.
It’s not that hard.

I lick the rest of the spoon clean, before I dip it in and actually take a spoonful and take it into my mouth.
I smile widely as I continue. I eat more and more of the fruity liquid and I can’t help but smile widely.
This isn’t so hard. It’s easy. It’s just eating! Why was it so scary?
I take a big spoonful, but when I start swallowing it… It’s too hard. It won’t go down.
There’s no more room. I’ve eaten too much! It’s too much!
This is not normal!

I shoot up and sprint out of the kitchen and down the hallway. I quickly turn a corner and throw myself onto my knees and flip open the lid to the toilet.
And then it all comes back up. It’s all there.

Tears are streaming down my face and my mind is screaming.
Explain normal to me! Make me understand it! I don’t know what it means! Please! Help me. Help me feel okay.