The Scars on Your Heart

I was a sobbing mess on the bed for a good while. I lost track of the time, and I'm honestly surprised I didn't start pulling stitches again.

Josh was lying to you the whole fucking time. Why did you even believe he wanted to be friends with you in the first place? Matt shouted as I gathered myself off of Josh's bed. You're such a naive little brat. I felt wrong being on that bed, because I must've hurt Josh's feelings pretty bad. But then again, I could've just made him hate me. I didn't know. But I mustered up all of my strength and pain tolerance and climbed up the ladder to my own bed. I wasn't going to be leaving it until the next day when I was forced to go to class.

My arms burned and ached after I climbed and I probably created a setback for my broken arm, but I didn't care. It was nice to be in my own bed after going a few days in someone else's. Something inside me yearned for Josh, though. I wanted to lay in his arms and be comfortable just like I had earlier. I wanted him to come back, but he didn't. Not for a long time.

----------

I heard the door open and I looked up from where my face was buried in my pillow. Josh walked in and I glanced at the clock. It was 10 o' clock at night. Curfew. He didn't even bother coming back before he had to. "Josh, I-" I started, but he looked up at me with pure hatred in his eyes.

"Fuck off." He snapped and went into the bathroom to brush his teeth. I cocked an eyebrow at him while he had his back to me, and when he was completely out of sight, I flopped back down onto my face. So he was angry. Maybe beyond angry. I ruined everything yet again. Great.

Once I heard the water turn off I turned my head so that it'd be facing him when he exited the small bathroom. I didn't bother trying to talk to him. The look in his eyes was enough to stop me. It was just like the first night we had roomed together. He hated me. I turned my head back into the pillow and let out a deep breath.

Haha, you're screwed, mate. Fucking screwed. He's gonna kill you before I do! I heard Matt say, and I couldn't help but smile. So, two people wanted to kill me. Good. Maybe then I wouldn't have to do it myself.

----------

I woke up the next morning to a loud knock on the door. I realized I was in the top bunk and swore under my breath, seeing as it would be a pain in the ass to get down, and that it meant that Josh was mad at me. "Oliver!" George poked his head in the door. "You missed the breakfast bell. It's weighing time." I felt my stomach turn to knots and a lump form in my throat. Fuck! This was not going to go down well.

"Okay. Hey, can you help me down?" I asked, really not wanting to put the pain and pressure on my injured arms.

"Sure." He came over to the side of the bed and held his arms out. I kicked my legs over the edge and dropped into his grip, where he gently placed me on the ground. "Wow, Oliver. You've lost even more weight."

"No I haven't, quit lying!" I snapped before I realized what I was doing. He cocked an eyebrow at me and I sighed. "Sorry. It's just... Josh lied to me about it and I don't want anyone else lying to me about it anymore."

"That's fine. Now let's get you to the weighing station, shall we?" I sighed once again and nodded, following George down the corridor. Josh was the last person in line, so I'd be standing behind him. It was the perfect time to apologize.

I stood at the back of the line and Josh obliviously talked to Chris. Lee was being weighed at the moment and he gave me an awful glare. I returned the favor and tapped Josh on the shoulder, then putting my hands behind my back. "Hi, Josh."

"What do you want?" He asked with a roll of his perfect blue eyes. I cocked an eyebrow.

"I know I made you mad yesterday, but can we forget about that?" I practically pleaded, making sure I was channeling my message through my eyes. "Please? I really want to stay your friend."

"Fuck off, mate. I don't want to be your friend. Nobody does. Now, just... don't talk to me." His words were jarring and I nearly fell to my knees and begged for him to change his mind. But I stood my ground by just standing there, not reacting. "Wow. A bit quiet today, huh? Thank god."

Inside I was screaming and crying and slamming my head against a wall but outside I did nothing but stand with a hurt expression on my face. "I'm sorry." I muttered, looking at the ground and not wanting him to reply. Thankfully he didn't, so I didn't have to face him any longer.

The line moved quickly and soon Josh was done. I stared at the scale and felt my heart begin to race. I was getting light-headed and a lump formed in my throat. My lip trembled as I stepped up onto the scale. It took a moment, but my weight finally showed up. My eyes were closed because I didn't want to see it. I was definitely over nine stone! I couldn't face it.

Fucking fatarse! Matt called.

"Six stone four pounds." The new tech - Remi, I saw on her name badge - read out and I opened my eyes, looking at the scale with sheer disbelief. Six stone! I was six fucking stone (four pounds, whatever) and I still wasn't thin. Dean Maskell stood beside the scale - it amazes me how silently she moves sometimes - and frowned.

"What is your goal weight, Mr. Sykes?" She asked with a stern tone, and I rolled my eyes. I get asked that all the time.

"For the last fucking time," I started, not even bothering to apologize for my swear. "I don't have one. I just want to be thin."

"You think you're not thin enough?" She asked, and I shook my head. "Oliver, you can barely walk up two flights of stairs without getting out of breath. You're constantly wearing that sweatshirt, presumably because you're cold, and you never eat. When will enough be enough?"

"The first one is because I'm out of shape, not because I'm too thin." I corrected, and then I looked at my discarded sweatshirt and pants on the ground. Now that she mentioned it, I was cold all the time. I was especially cold in just my underwear, and the thermostat said it was about 24 degrees in the hallway. I shouldn't have been cold. "Okay, so I'm cold all the time, that has nothing to do with anything. And I don't eat because I need to be thin!"

"Oliver Sykes, I need you to listen to me. You're severely underweight. Your BMI is about 11. Do you know what a healthy BMI is?" She asked, and I shook my head again. "Over 18.5. You are at death's door. That's probably why you've been acting out so much recently."

I thought about it hard, and sighed. I was underweight, but I wasn't thin. How did that make any sense? "Then why am I still fat?" I retorted.

She brought her palm up to her face. "You are not fat, Oliver. You're dangerously thin. If you weren't here you'd be admitted to an eating disorders unit to refeed you."

"If I'm that thin then why aren't you people doing anything to help me? Not saying that I need help, or anything."

"We're going to start at lunch today. You are going to eat more, Oliver, and you're going to put on weight so that we don't have to worry about you dying out of the blue." The thought of eating more left me shaking, eyes wide. I didn't want to eat more. I was perfectly content with an empty stomach. They already forced me to drink milk and some kind of nutritious juice every meal. What was wrong with that? And putting on weight? How about a big fucking NO.

Dean Maskell left and I put on my sweatshirt and my pants, walking down the hallway to the therapy room for group. I ran my fingers through my hair and I actually noticed for the first time how much hair came off my head whenever I did that. It was a little ball of fur in my hand. I was definitely underweight. But not thin.

----------

Lunch was an absolute nightmare. I had to sit with George and he forced food down my throat, all while I screamed and punched and shouted about how fat it would make me. Lots of eyes were turned in my direction, but eventually everyone got used to it and minded their own business. I eventually gave up the fight and began to cry as I ate the food he gave to me. I wanted Josh to hold me and tell me everything would be alright, lie to me and tell me that this food wasn't going to make me fat. That way I'd be less stressed. But Josh was over with his friends, probably picking on me behind my back again. They were probably calling me a cry-baby, which I knew I was, and a fatarse and pointing out everything that was wrong with me.

Then I corrected myself. Josh had better things to do than think about me. All I was to him was a phase that he was stupid to go through. I was extremely hurt by my own thoughts.

----------

It was night time again. The day passed surprisingly fast. Dinner went the same as lunch but with less screaming. Josh was in the main lounge with his friends and I was at my desk in our room, my third lyric notebook out in front of me on a blank page. "I was raised in the valley..." I started talking aloud as I thought of the lyrics for the tune that was playing in my head. "There was shadows and death." I didn't know what the meaning of this song was going to turn into, much less who I was writing it for, but I saw it all coming together in my mind's eye. "Got out alive but with scars I can't forget."

Eventually my song was finished. "Don't Go" by Oliver Sykes. I tried singing it, but I ended up screaming it. It wasn't like regular screaming, though. It had a musical, rough quality to it. I liked my own voice for the first time in ages.

I figured out that I was kind of writing it for Josh. The "Don't Go" part, anyway. The beginning kind of symbolized what I had been through. Metaphorically, of course.

I had asked George for help getting into bed once I was done brushing my teeth and washing my face. He gave me a boost and I hopped onto the top bunk.

"Do you want to switch beds with Josh? It may be easier for you that way."

"I don't want to put anymore inconveniences on him, but thanks anyway." I responded with a smile, and George, for the first time in almost eight years, looked sad. He normally didn't want anything to do with me. But I guess knowing how well we had gotten along and how we were back to square one again struck a chord within him or something. I don't know.

----------

I heard the door open and watched Josh come in through slit eyes, pretending to be asleep. He stared at me for a while and then looked over at my open notebook. Shit! I had forgotten to close it. But I couldn't do that now. I'd have to get George to help me and then Josh would know I was awake. He sat at my desk and rested his chin on his fist. I bundled up in my blanket. With his back to me I could watch with my eyes fully open. Matt was leaving me alone for now. Perhaps he knew that I'd kill him if he bothered me in this moment.

He read the first few lines and I saw his shoulders tremble. I guess he figured out it was about him. "Don't go..." He read aloud a few minutes later, voice choked up. He pushed my notebook aside and rested his head on my desk, letting out small sobs and sniffing every now and again. "Oli," He turned to me and I closed my eyes once more. "I know you can't hear me." Yes, I can, actually. "But it's better that way. I still love you." My heart skipped a beat in my chest and I caught my breath before I made a noise. "I can't show it to you anymore. But I do." I heard the chair move, presumably as he stood, and felt his hand take mine. We stayed like that for a few moments before he let go, sniffing and opening the door to the bathroom. I rolled over and smiled slightly, feeling tears well in my eyes for about the third time that day. "I love you, too, Josh." I whispered under the running water in the bathroom. "I love you, too."