Taking Chances

It was night-time,definitely past midnight, but my surroundings were anything but dead. Lights flashed all around me, a painting of blinking colours and moving bodies. It was a carnival, our town's one and only Autumn carnival. I had gone every year, but hadn't been in a while.

I looked down at myself, taking in my old black skinny jeans and flannel shirt, underneath a plain white T-shirt. My feet donned worn Converse, laces tattered and frayed. But I loved them. They were given to me by Jay, after all.

Oh, Jay. He was meant to be here already, right?

Deep in the back of my mind, something told me to run, but I pushed the thoughts and uneasy feelings away. I didn't understand them. It was the Autumn Festival, what could happen? I shrugged, and decided to wait around for a little while longer. Jay was probably caught up getting here, since his mum was probably being reluctant to drive him.

I walked over to a little booth, where a few couples were 'fishing' for prizes. I watched, as the guy caught a bright green fish, his girlfriend squealing and kissing him. He chuckled, wrapping his arms around her waist as the worker handed him a giant stuffed teddy, and he then presented it to his ecstatic girlfriend. I couldn't help but smile, my mind wandering to Jay and his beautiful face smiling at me. I wished that one day he would look at me like that.

That uncomfortable, sinking feeling erupted in my stomach again, and I frowned, shaking my head as if the movement would get rid of all my bad thoughts. I wondered why I was feeling like this. I was about to meet up with Jay, the love of my life, and I was feeling bad? Maybe it is just nerves.

I saw a familiar dark head in the crowd, and gasped, grinning. My legs moved, my feet tapping and echoing on the concrete as people laughed and screamed, but it was barely back-ground music as my eyes locked onto Jay, who had his back turned to me. I darted through the crowd, pushing and shoving until I got in front of him. When I got directly behind him, I blushed, my heart flipping and my stomach lurching. Even from behind he was so gorgeous.

"Jay, you're finally he-"

My world shattered, the carnival scene crashing down and I was suddenly surrounded by darkness, the only other people within eyesight being Jay. Jay, and the girl he was kissing.

"J-Jay? Wh-what are you doing?" I stammered, my eyes darting between the two. Jay just smirked, his arm snaking around the girl's waist. I didn't focus on her though, my eyes were locked onto Jay's cold face.

"You're ugly. You're so fat it disgusts me. You're a fucking fag who doesn't deserve me," he spat, his eyes icy cold as he looked me up and down disapprovingly. "You are disgusting."

Jay's image started to shimmer, but not from the tears that clouded my eyes. He was disappearing. Again.

"N-No! Jay! Don't leave me! I-I'll change! I'll eat less! I won't eat at all! I promise! J-Jay!" I screamed, reaching forward but only managed to hang onto a wisp of air.

"JAY!" I screamed, scrambling up in my bed, tears streaming down my face like a waterfall after a storm. "J-Jay..."

My head fell into my hands as I hunched over, muffling my sobs with my shirt. My heart felt like it had been ripped in two, and I suddenly felt sick, the smell of cold soup sneaking through my red and raw nostrils. My hand whipped over my mouth as I ran to the bathroom, collapsing to my knees in front of the toilet bowl, heaving my guts our with a nauseating gag.

Barely anything came out- well, what could come out? I had already thrown up my break fast and lunch, and I didn't have anything for dinner. I glared down at the bowl, angry that nothing came out, the water still the same clear colour. There had to be something down there in my stomach. There was something down there that was making me fat.

I jerked a few fingers down my throat, my nails tickling the back of it as I dry-heaved, a little drool pooling in my mouth. I pressed my finger deeper into my throat, my gagging intensifying as my stomach clenched, trying to get something out. And then I was blessed when a dark red liquid splashed into the toilet, turning the water a beautiful pink.

The substance smelled like iron, and my mouth tasted of blood. I had vomited blood. I knew something was wrong, but it felt good. I felt amazing.

I wiped my lips with my hand, smiling a little as I flushed the toilet, my stomach feeling satisfyingly empty. I walked to the sink, rinsing my mouth as I did before, and splashed some onto my face. I looked up, staring at my face and my body in the mirror. I pulled up the bottom of my shirt, my eyes boring into my stomach.

So disgusting.

I felt like vomiting again from looking at myself, and tore my eyes away, walking back to my room where my clock read "3:34am". I felt exhausted, but I didn't want to sleep- I couldn't sleep. I was afraid of those dreams, those nightmares that left me wanting to die. I was too scared to fall asleep.

I laughed dryly, my throat hoarse, and I turned on my laptop, pulling out some school books.

I was going to do anything to take my mind of him.

Maybelle

I knocked on Micah's door precisely on 7:00, not a minute early, not a minute late. He didn't answer, but I heard the tapping of a computer, so I opened the door, carefully peering in. His room didn't look any different, but Micah looked like a wreck. He was wearing a baggy hoodie and a pair of dark tracksuit pants. He was hunched over his desk as he scribbled something into a book, completely oblivious to my presence.

"Micah, I brought you breakfast," I said softly, walking over to him. He didn't respond and I sighed, and I bit back a gasp as I saw his face. His cheeks were hollow, large, black and purple bags under his eyes, those eyes that used to be so lively. Now they were dead and cold, the wall around his heart reaching the sky. "Oh god, Micah."

I noticed his untouched soup on his desk, and frowned.

"Micah," I said again,louder this time. No answer. Micah tapped at the keys again, his eyes locked onto the glowing screen. "Micah!"

"Good morning," he said, his voice rough and emotionless, as his eyes flicked over to me briefly. "You can take that away. I'm nor hungry."

"Like hell you aren't!" I retorted, practically thrusting the toast in his face. His face looked livid for a moment, but then recovered, returning to the lifeless mask of nothingness. He grabbed the tray, taking a tiny bite of the crust.

"There. I'm full," he said, cracking open a dictionary as he searched for something.

"You better be searching up 'eating-disorder' because that's what's happening here," I said, and he flinched. His eyes grew dark, and he looked at me, pointing to his door.

"Get out of my room, Belle. I need to do my homework," he said, and I shook my head.

"No, Micah. I'm worried for you! It was hard enough the first time, and seeing you broken like this hurts so much," I whispered, and his expression softened.

"But I'm fine, Belle. I just have some exams soon and it's really stressing me out, so I need to study. Tell Ma I'm fine, and don't worry. I am honestly not hungry." He sent me a small, forced smile, and I felt my heart break. It hurt seeing the brother you loved wasting away. He was already thin, but now he looked like a gust of wind could snap him in two.

"Micah..."

"I'm fine. Please, I need to do my work," he pleaded, getting up to push me out the door. "Thanks for the bread."

With that, he closed the door, and I heard the click of a lock.

I felt like crying. I had promised that he wouldn't be hurt again, but look at what has happened. It was all his fault again. Jaden Carr.

I dropped off the tray at the kitchen, and gave Ma one, feeble look, and she too was on the verge of tears. Imagine seeing your precious son going through something like that.

"Ma, call the doctor. I'm going out," I said, and she nodded, walking over to the phone. I grabbed my coat and tram ticket, walking out the door. I pulled out my phone, calling Declan, who answered on the first ring. His melodic voice wafted worriedly through the receiver, and I couldn't help but muster a smile.

"Hey," I said quietly, and Declan asked me for details as I walked to his place. I had been going over to his place a lot lately, so I knew the place like the back of my hand.

"How's Micah," he asked, and I sighed, my throat feeling thick.

"Not good. Not good at all."