If Words Are But Words
Blood splashed across tiles, decoratively
JADE’S POV
“How was your ‘date’?” I laughed as Davey heaved his breath, clearly excaudated and threw his slender body onto the couch beside me.
“God, that guy is so...,” he paused as if trying to think of the right words to describe him. He flicked his head to the right, like a show pony, his long fringe tossing across his face.
“He’s so...?” I probed with a giggle.
Davey rolled his eyes and pushed his weight, or lack of, up from the couch on his hand. He wandered over to where the massive mirror hung on the wall, I suppressed a laugh when I noticed he kind of stuck his cheast out when he walked.
He stopped in front of the mirror, eugh he was going to do his conceited ritual of narcissism, poking his gut and making several different faces at himself. I’m surprised he didn’t choke on his vanity, honestly I am...except that you know, you kinda can’t choke on vanity...but if you could he would...i wonder what vanity tastes like. Sugar probably...I like sugar.
“Ugh, seriously though, when you get to a certain weight they should just stop making skinny jeans that size” I heard Davey ramble, I rolled my eyes and tuned out. Then I noticed something at the door, I recognized it as Ian. I noticed him raise his fist, as if to knock, then lower it again.
“If you’re a chumba wumba you should not be wearing tight pants, like that goddamn-” Davey continued. Oh god, he’s gonna say Ian. Ian’s gonna hear him.
“Um, Davey” I tried to cut him off but Davey, being Davey, just shrugged me off. Sometimes he can be a little, um, insensitive.
“like that goddamn Ian. God, did you see those stovepipe jeans he tried to squeeze himself into today, who told him he could fit into those” Davey cackled, “Oh god and his hair. Who cuts it? A drunken hobo or something, it makes his massive nose even more obvious”
Davey turned to face me but as I looked past him I saw Ian flick around in a blur and bolt off. I got a sickening feeling in my stomach like someone had knotted my insides.
IAN’S POV
My legs pumped as I ran hoping Davey hadn’t noticed me there. I had a repulsed feeling Jade may have but it doesn’t even matter anymore, nothing does, nothing ever will.
I arrived at the bus, my shaking hands grasped the cold, uninviting metal of the doorframe.
No-one was here, everyone had gone out so I was left here, alone. I sat on the ground, the carpet feeling unsettling under my sweating palms. I glanced around the somewhat reeking bus, multiple clothing items lay scattered across the greenish-blue loops of the carpet. My eyes locked on the white of the bathroom.
As if I wasn’t completely aware of my actions I lifted myself from the ground and walked to the bathroom.
I kneeled in front of the white porcelain (Thankfully people avoid using the bus toilet as much as possible on tour) and stared at my reflection in the water in the bowl, Davey was right. Davey was right and I knew it. I was fat, correction not just fat, more like morbidly obese. Repulsive. I blinked back tears and placed my forefinger and middle finger on my dry tongue and forced them further down, down until I could taste the sour filthy taste of vomit rising in my throat. It tasted disgusting and made feel even more ill. I kept forcing my finger further plunging down my throat until I felt dizzy and nothing more would spill from my mouth like self hatred pouring from the trash can that was my lips. I started crying feeling more and more pathetic with each tear that rolled down my hot cheeks. My sobbing got harder til I started spluttering and coughing. The blood from the back of my throat decoratively splashed the tiles, the red and white contrast almost mesmerizing. I kept crying til I lost all sense of anything and I think I passed out after that because I saw the red blood, the white tiles then black and nothing but black.
“How was your ‘date’?” I laughed as Davey heaved his breath, clearly excaudated and threw his slender body onto the couch beside me.
“God, that guy is so...,” he paused as if trying to think of the right words to describe him. He flicked his head to the right, like a show pony, his long fringe tossing across his face.
“He’s so...?” I probed with a giggle.
Davey rolled his eyes and pushed his weight, or lack of, up from the couch on his hand. He wandered over to where the massive mirror hung on the wall, I suppressed a laugh when I noticed he kind of stuck his cheast out when he walked.
He stopped in front of the mirror, eugh he was going to do his conceited ritual of narcissism, poking his gut and making several different faces at himself. I’m surprised he didn’t choke on his vanity, honestly I am...except that you know, you kinda can’t choke on vanity...but if you could he would...i wonder what vanity tastes like. Sugar probably...I like sugar.
“Ugh, seriously though, when you get to a certain weight they should just stop making skinny jeans that size” I heard Davey ramble, I rolled my eyes and tuned out. Then I noticed something at the door, I recognized it as Ian. I noticed him raise his fist, as if to knock, then lower it again.
“If you’re a chumba wumba you should not be wearing tight pants, like that goddamn-” Davey continued. Oh god, he’s gonna say Ian. Ian’s gonna hear him.
“Um, Davey” I tried to cut him off but Davey, being Davey, just shrugged me off. Sometimes he can be a little, um, insensitive.
“like that goddamn Ian. God, did you see those stovepipe jeans he tried to squeeze himself into today, who told him he could fit into those” Davey cackled, “Oh god and his hair. Who cuts it? A drunken hobo or something, it makes his massive nose even more obvious”
Davey turned to face me but as I looked past him I saw Ian flick around in a blur and bolt off. I got a sickening feeling in my stomach like someone had knotted my insides.
IAN’S POV
My legs pumped as I ran hoping Davey hadn’t noticed me there. I had a repulsed feeling Jade may have but it doesn’t even matter anymore, nothing does, nothing ever will.
I arrived at the bus, my shaking hands grasped the cold, uninviting metal of the doorframe.
No-one was here, everyone had gone out so I was left here, alone. I sat on the ground, the carpet feeling unsettling under my sweating palms. I glanced around the somewhat reeking bus, multiple clothing items lay scattered across the greenish-blue loops of the carpet. My eyes locked on the white of the bathroom.
As if I wasn’t completely aware of my actions I lifted myself from the ground and walked to the bathroom.
I kneeled in front of the white porcelain (Thankfully people avoid using the bus toilet as much as possible on tour) and stared at my reflection in the water in the bowl, Davey was right. Davey was right and I knew it. I was fat, correction not just fat, more like morbidly obese. Repulsive. I blinked back tears and placed my forefinger and middle finger on my dry tongue and forced them further down, down until I could taste the sour filthy taste of vomit rising in my throat. It tasted disgusting and made feel even more ill. I kept forcing my finger further plunging down my throat until I felt dizzy and nothing more would spill from my mouth like self hatred pouring from the trash can that was my lips. I started crying feeling more and more pathetic with each tear that rolled down my hot cheeks. My sobbing got harder til I started spluttering and coughing. The blood from the back of my throat decoratively splashed the tiles, the red and white contrast almost mesmerizing. I kept crying til I lost all sense of anything and I think I passed out after that because I saw the red blood, the white tiles then black and nothing but black.