Nervosa

Four more periods later, I heard the last bell ring. It always seemed to be the longest bell of the day. As if it were to say "You've been here for 7 hour, get the hell out!" I wasn't the first out the classroom, but I wasn't the last. I just wasn't in any mood to stay in the classroom today, it somehow felt as if once the bell rang, I'd over stayed my welcome. Of course, I was just being paranoid. I began to walk out of the building, pushing the door next to the front office open, and letting it slam shut. I began to walk home, letting my bag slam against my thigh as I took each step. My mother swears I should have bruises on my leg with the amount of shit I carry in it, then allowing all of it to slam against my leg. I, being the idiot that I am, actually check. I'm not sure if it's just a figure of speech, but I never find any bruises. I was alone as I walked home, which was usual. Most kids rode the bus or lived in different neighborhoods, so they never came this way. Only, I began to hear loud stomps coming from about a yard away. I began to feel a cold sweat burst out, I mean this wasn't exactly the best place in Jersey to live. I debated on whether I should turn around or bolt forward and not stop until I reached my house. I began to turn my head slightly and look at who the intruder of my silence was. I felt a wave of calmness reach me as I realized the person running after me wasn't a person would was up to me and stab me, and then just walk away. It was just Frank. I almost felt like laughing when I saw his face and how hard he was trying to reach me with such short legs. I began to walk towards him, to make his run a bit shorter than it was. "Hey Mikey!" I heard him screech, a smile reaching his face. It amazed me to see how someone could smile so much. I'd never been much of a smiling person. Come to think of it, I'd never been one much for conversation, smiling, hugging, or laughing. "I'm almost there, wait a minute!" He screamed as I stood there, showing no sign of moving. As he inched forward, I could hear his foot steps get louder, and his breath turn to a heaving mess. I take it he's been running a lot longer than from school.

"H-hey, Mikey." I gave him a questioning stare at the amount of heaving he was doing. "You alright?" It shocked me as the words spilled from my mouth. I'd never cared about anyone enough to ask them if they were ok. It never concerned my, so why should I care? "Y-yeah. I guess being short and running don't fit hand in hand for me." He smiled, even though you could tell his ribs felt like breaking with each breath. "I guess not. Why were you running any how?" He regained his composure before speaking. "To catch up to you." I traced my mind for an answer on why the hell he would want to catch up to me. "Remember, I'm your friend." I guess not having a friend since elementary school kind of messed me up in that department. "Friends do that y'know." I just nodded and walked forward, him following. "May I ask you a question?" For once, he didn't spend a moment to think of a reply. "You just did, but I grant you another one. Go ahead." Maybe he really did know Gerard. . .I'd never met anyone else that fucking sarcastic. "Why are you even bothering?" He gave me a questioning glance before looking back down. For a moment I swear I could have seen a small bruise on his neck, but then he looked back up at me before I could confirm that. "I'm just trying to help you, and if I can't do that, I at least want to be your friend. You aren't the only one who is fucked up." I began to ponder if what I had seen on his neck was actually a bruise or not after what he's just said.

"I have to go, this is my house. I'll see you in the morning?" He smiled as he turned around after I nodded. "See you later, Mikey." It was then that I realized that he was the first person since Gerard to call me Mikey instead of Michael. For the first time in for what seemed like forever, I felt the corners of my mouth raise, forming a smile. This time, however, I didn't force it back down. I carried it all the way across the street to my house. Once I opened the door it faded into yet another frown. I smelt the smell of my mothers cooking, meaning that she would pester me again to eat something. "Michael? That you?" I heard my mother call from the kitchen. I just replied with a 'yes' and began to walk to my room, only to be stopped my my mother. "Tonight you're joining us for dinner, Michael." I stopped dead in my tracks and groaned as I fell on my bed, smelling her cooking reaching my nose. It wasn't her cooking I hated, it was having to sit at a table and eat in silence, only to be throwing it all back up again moments later. I walked into the bathroom, got out the cup I hid under the counter, and filled it with water. Then I got out the air freshener and set it on the counter. Then, I took then both and hid them in the bathtub, and pulled the curtain to hide them. You'd think if I had to take precautions to do this, I might as well just use the toilet. I would, I'd prefer it actually, but it would take me a lifetime to prefect not gagging.

About fifteen minutes later, I found myself at the table, silence surrounding me. It never failed to be this way, silent and boring. "Eat Michael!" My mother said, making me put the fork in my mouth. I began to feel the imaginary bile rise in my throat as I knew not to eat anything. In science a few years back, I learned that if you don't eat much for a long period of time, when you do it, your stomach will begin to hurt because it won't be used to digesting. Then, when it digests the food after a long period of time, it will want to eat more and more, causing people to binge, also causing Bulimia. "I'm done." I waited for no protest before getting up and running into my room. I heard my mother begin to sigh as I closed my door and locked it. I walked into the bathroom after a few minuets of them thinking I was still in my room, grabbed the cup and the air freshener. I pushed my middle and index fingers on my right hand further and further down until I stroked what I was looking for. I did it numerous times until I began to feel everything i just ate rush back up. I did this several time, feeling my dizzy as I did it. I halted and held my hands on he counter to keep myself from falling. Once I began to feel myself go back to normal, I washed off my fingers, splashed the water on the sink, allowing the unwanted residue to wash down the sink. It took a few more cup fills to get it all gone, but it did so. Then, before shutting the bathroom door, I sprayed the air freshener around the sink to flood the smell of vomit out of the bathroom. I walked back into my room, hearing the voiced come back to me. This was how most nights ended, the voices changing my name to pathetic, and me with a pillow over my head to attempt to block them out.