Light up the Sky

I let a deep puff of air out of my nose, my face still inches away from Frank’s and I looked at him in the eyes. I didn’t know what it was – why didn’t I pull away? Why did I let him kiss me? Why did he want to kiss me?

“Hey…” I replied, my teeth sinking into my lower lip.

I didn’t understand – I was having all of these mixed feelings towards this horrible looking boy. Only… he wasn’t horrible looking anymore. He was actually quite beautiful, come to think of it. Sure, the dark circles around his eyes, his sunken cheeks and his boney body was horrible; but looking beyond that, looking underneath all of that, he looked beautiful.

I mentally slapped myself, why was I feeling like this? He was a boy. He was a disgusting, horrible boy – who really wasn’t any of that. He was a beautiful, caring and over-all, wonderful boy. But I couldn’t let myself get closer to him, could I? I had already made a huge mistake with letting him kiss me. I couldn’t let myself open up to him – I was trying to become numb. And I had just felt a kiss from him; that wasn’t numb! My body felt that, my whole body felt it. I didn’t like it one bit. Only, I did like it. I loved it, in fact. I loved allowing myself to melt into someone else’s embrace, to feel their warm breath on my cheek, to feel their tongue massaging against mine – feeling it. I didn’t want that. I didn’t want to have feeling, no I did not. I wanted to be numb, so I wouldn’t know, and so I couldn’t know, what I was missing out on. I didn’t deserve all of that.

His hands were still locked into mine, his thumb running over my own and sending sparks through it. His eyes were still gazing into mine and I couldn’t bring myself to tear my gaze away. I didn’t want to tear it away! I had never let anyone look into my eyes before, never let myself give them the satisfaction of seeing into my soul through the one part of my body that I wasn’t able to control. Eyes let off emotions that you can’t keep to yourself – they show you who you truly are, and I was allowing Frank to see into that. I wasn’t sure what I was doing, especially when my own hand started to stroke his sunken cheek. When I leaned my head forwards again, when I pushed my lips up against his – darting my tongue across his lower lip and pushing it inside of his mouth. When my tongue massaged against his, circling his tongue and tracing every nook and cranny inside of his mouth; tickling it and causing him to let out a slight moan.

My hand finally left his, but only to tangle itself in his hair – it was on instinct. I had never kissed anyone before, and I had no idea how I was doing all of this. Why was I suddenly so confident when kissing Frank? This ugly boy – who wasn’t really ugly. Calling him ugly helped me to numb myself to his hidden beauty. Calling him ugly meant that I was blocking out all of my feelings to him. Only it wasn’t really help him – no amount of putting him down inside of my head was blocking any thing out.

His hand reached towards my waist, his fingers tracing my fat hips and tugging me closer towards his own body. That was when I got scared, when his fingers started tracing over all of the fat rolls on my stomach – when his hands ran up and down my obese arms. I pulled away, my eyes wide and tears threatening to fall. I didn’t want him to feel all of my fat, which was why I wore baggy shirts – to hide the fact that I was obese.

His face fell and he looked into my eyes again, scanning every bit of my emotions and I lowered my gaze. I didn’t want him to look into me anymore, I didn’t like that. Not now, anyway.

“Mikey…” he mumbled, his hand falling onto my cheek and he tried to turn my head to face him.

I used all of my strength to keep my eyes away from his, even as I let him turn my head back to facing his, I didn’t let my eyes meet his. My name was not Mikey! Did he not know that yet? My name was Mistake, that is what I was.

“Mikey, what’s wrong?” he asked, obviously noticing the tears that were starting to leak out of my eyes – however, I continued to ignore him. My name was not Mikey, God Damnit.

What was wrong? I wasn’t quite sure why I actually was crying. Sure, it was partly because I was fat and because I didn’t want him to touch my fat. But there was more to it; I knew there was. I looked down at his body, still not allowing my eyes too meet his and I realized. I was crying because I hated what he had done to himself – that he was able to become stick thin while I was not. I had stayed fat, I had stayed obese. Frank had not; Frank was now unhealthily underweight. He was disgustingly underweight. My eyes squinted as I fought back the anger towards him. I was livid – completely and utterly livid with this disgusting boy.

He was disgusting, he truly was. And I wasn’t going to let myself think other wise. Just look at how thin he is! He’s like a twig, less than that. I could snap him in half, if I really wanted to. I could push him, and he’d fall to the ground and break. If only I had the courage to do so, to show him how fucked up he is. To show him how ruined he is. He’s ruined what was probably once a beautiful body. He’s made himself into a monster; and he’s just calling out for people to hurt him, to destroy him. I want to – I want to hurt him, I want to destroy him. I want to hurt him so bad that he’ll stop this stupid game he’s playing with himself, he’s the only one in it – he’s the only one stupid enough to play.

He’s ruined himself. He’s completely ruined himself – and I want to destroy him. I want to push him into the ground, squash him into the mud. Break every bone in his body, smash his face him – jump on him; just to prove how badly he’s ruined himself.