Status: The end. Thank you all so much for reading.
Wrists
change .
Elijah followed me up the steps to my house, and waited while I opened the door with my keys. I could feel my whole body shaking as I stepped inside, letting Elijah in after me. My mother was in the kitchen, cooking something really good-smelling on the stove. She looked up when she heard us, slight confusion passing through before it settled on a semi-warm smile. “Graham? Who is this?”
“My friend,” I mumbled, not able to look her in the face. “His name’s—”
“—Elijah,” he interrupted, taking confident strides towards her. When he got close enough, they shared a polite handshake. “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs....”
“Just call me Anna,” my mother said with a wide smile. Her eyes glowed with joy; she was elated I had finally brought a friend home. It had been almost 5 years since she had seen any of my “friends”. She always asked me about them, but I had nothing to tell her. She made me feel guilty. “How are you?”
“Very good!” Elijah grinned. “Graham and I were just wondering if we could borrow your computer? If you have one?”
I passed him a curious stare, but he only smiled blankly at me, and then returned his blue gaze back to my mother. She looked at both of us before carefully saying, “well, you, you may. It’s upstairs in the bonus room.”
“Thank you.” Elijah took a step towards the stairs. “C’mon, Graham.”
I nodded dumbly, and then followed him up the stairs. Since he didn’t know where to go, I led him to the room with the computer, and logged in for him. He sat in the chair, typing away, while I stood next to me, surveying his work suspicously. “What are we doing?” I asked.
But he didn’t need to respond. Because what flashed on the screen was the answer: an eating disorder test. I opened my mouth, shocked and ready to protest. “No, Eli. No, no, no. I don’t need to do a damn test to fi—”
“—Do it first, Graham.” Elijah turned to me. His stern face was back. “Just do it. Maybe this’ll help you stop being in denial about your problems and help you to admit to your family about it. Just try. Please.”
I grew quiet. My chest began to hurt, throat burning.
Elijah got out of the chair, leaving it open for me. We had a short stare down before I lowered myself into the wooden chair, and faced the computer screen.
“Do I have t—”
“—Yes.”
“But, Eli—”
“—Do it, Graham. Just this once.”
Silence. I stared at the computer screen until it became a blur. Did he not understand I didn’t want to come to terms with this? With this disease that has consumed my mind? It was even worse that somebody else would witness me admitting that I truly had problems I needed to fix. But Elijah was determined to get what he wanted, and who was I to deny?
I began the test.
“My friend,” I mumbled, not able to look her in the face. “His name’s—”
“—Elijah,” he interrupted, taking confident strides towards her. When he got close enough, they shared a polite handshake. “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs....”
“Just call me Anna,” my mother said with a wide smile. Her eyes glowed with joy; she was elated I had finally brought a friend home. It had been almost 5 years since she had seen any of my “friends”. She always asked me about them, but I had nothing to tell her. She made me feel guilty. “How are you?”
“Very good!” Elijah grinned. “Graham and I were just wondering if we could borrow your computer? If you have one?”
I passed him a curious stare, but he only smiled blankly at me, and then returned his blue gaze back to my mother. She looked at both of us before carefully saying, “well, you, you may. It’s upstairs in the bonus room.”
“Thank you.” Elijah took a step towards the stairs. “C’mon, Graham.”
I nodded dumbly, and then followed him up the stairs. Since he didn’t know where to go, I led him to the room with the computer, and logged in for him. He sat in the chair, typing away, while I stood next to me, surveying his work suspicously. “What are we doing?” I asked.
But he didn’t need to respond. Because what flashed on the screen was the answer: an eating disorder test. I opened my mouth, shocked and ready to protest. “No, Eli. No, no, no. I don’t need to do a damn test to fi—”
“—Do it first, Graham.” Elijah turned to me. His stern face was back. “Just do it. Maybe this’ll help you stop being in denial about your problems and help you to admit to your family about it. Just try. Please.”
I grew quiet. My chest began to hurt, throat burning.
Elijah got out of the chair, leaving it open for me. We had a short stare down before I lowered myself into the wooden chair, and faced the computer screen.
“Do I have t—”
“—Yes.”
“But, Eli—”
“—Do it, Graham. Just this once.”
Silence. I stared at the computer screen until it became a blur. Did he not understand I didn’t want to come to terms with this? With this disease that has consumed my mind? It was even worse that somebody else would witness me admitting that I truly had problems I needed to fix. But Elijah was determined to get what he wanted, and who was I to deny?
I began the test.