I Can't Remember
In this they're not Hunters, Mary is still alive, Castiel is Dean's best friend and Gabriel is Sam's.
It's short but it's been in my head for a while now and I had to get it out.
Senior year of high school. It was supposed to be the happiest time of a teenagers life right? Not for me it wasn't. My Name is Sam Winchester and this all started a year ago.
I had hit yet another growth spurt and I was hungry all the damn time.
It started with little comments at home and it was only dad who said them.
"Jeez Sam, don't you think you should ease up on the food there son? Dinner'll be ready soon, so just wait would ya?" dad said.
"Right, yeah, sorry, just...really hungry." I said and ran back upstairs taking the bread roll with me.
"Sam I'm starting to think we should give you all the left over food and just get rid of the garbage disposal." Dad said, laughing.
He had been saying that for the last few weeks now and I was used to it by now so I just laughed.
"You're eating again? We just had dinner kid." it was Dad, yet again, who said it.
"I know, but you know how being a teenager is. I'm just so hungry all the time. I don't even care about what I'm eating."
I pulled the cream cheese out of the fridge and a bagel out of the basket on the counter and cut it open before layering it in cream cheese and chicken chips. I squished the two pieces together to make a sandwich and took a bite. It tasted so good.
Dad just gave me a weird look and walked out of the kitchen.
It was my friends that started next.
"Sam I know youre getting taller and need the extra food, but don't you think you're going a little over board?" Jess said one day at lunch. I was eating a pasta salad.
"Maybe, I dunno." I shrugged and just kept eating.
"Has anyone ever told you you're like a garbage disposal Sam?" Andy asked and he and the rest of the group laughed.
Even I did. The only one that didn't was Gabriel.
It got worse when Mom started. A lot worse. That's when He came. The Voice.
"Maybe your father was right about the garbage disposal Sammy." Mom said, smiling.
"Yeah, maybe." I laughed to hide how much it had hurt to know that even my Mom thought that.
"You hear that Sammy? Even mommy thinks your no good. That your just a fat garbage disposal. A good for nothing..."
"Shut up, that isn't what she was saying. They're all just joking because I eat so much. But I can't help it." I whispered as I ran upstairs to my bedroom.
"You've only got yourself to blame Sammy. Who else forces all that food down your throat? Not your father or your friends or your mother."
"Not everyone thinks I'm a garbage disposal. Dean and Cas and Gabe don't."
"Who are you trying to fool here kid? Of course they think it too, they just don't want to say anything because they're too polite. Still doesn't change what you are. What are you Sam?"
"A teenager."
"No! You're not! What kind of teenager eats as much as you do, huh? Are you listening to me ya damn garbage guts?"
"You're not real. Fuck off."
I was still whispering, but trying to shout at the same time.
"Go take a look in the mirror boy, you'll see."
I ignored it and turned out the light and crawled into bed, hoping it would all be forgotten in the morning. I tried to sleep but all I could was the soft voice whispering in a sing-song voice, "Garbage guts." Over and over, like a broken record. It was nearly 4am before I finally fell asleep.
The wailing of the alarm clock woke me up 3 hours later and it took all the self control I had not to throw it across the room.
I hit the snooze button and it shut up immediately. I got dressed without looking in the mirror and went downstairs to the kitchen. Dean was already sitting the table shovelling pancakes into his mouth.
I made toast and went to take a bite when a wave of nausea rolled over me and the voice from last night came back.
"DON'T YOU DARE EAT THAT YOU FAT SHIT! YOU PUT THAT IN YOUR MOUTH AND IT'S COMING RIGHT BACK UP!"
The sickening feeling got worse and I put the toast down. I got up and dumped it in the bin, grabbing a glass of water instead. The nausea disappeared and I didn't feel hungry at all.
At lunch at school the nausous feeling came back as I went to eat and I pushed my lunch. No one seemed to notice. The sick feeling stayed until the end of lunch bell rang and I was out of the cafeteria.
It was back again at dinner time, but I knew no matter what, I had to eat something or I would pass out. I put the littlest amount of food on my plate that I could get away with and sat down at the table with Dean, Mom and Dad. None of them seemed to notice that I had less than half of what they were eating and so once again, I didn't say anything and just ate.
I felt sick for hours after and every time I moved I felt for sure I would throw up. The taste of food was still in my mouth, even after brushing my teeth 4 times and I got up and went into the bathroom, brushing them again.
So this is how everything went. For weeks and after months it got worse. I ate even less at dinner and even then it was never something I had to cut up with a knife and fork.
And now it's senior year and I'm still doing it and no one has noticed yet. I was glad for that though. I didn't know how they'd react if they knew.
It was nearing graduation and ever since that first day the voice had been talking to me, guiding me I guess, in a screwed up kind of way.
Cas and Gabe had invited Dean and me over to their place for a "We're Nearly Free Of Exams" dinner. The rest of their family were out so it was just the four of us.
The smell coming from the kitchen where Cas and Gabe were cooking was amazing, but I felt sick again. It had been a permanent feeling in my stomach for nearly two years now and I was used to it. Now I just never felt hungry.
"Dinner's ready!" Cas called and Dean ran into the kitchen immediately.
I stood up and walked in slowly. I saw how much food was on the plate. Not as much as I used to eat but still far more than I ate now.
I sat down and picked up my glass of water, drinking all of it. I finished it and put it back down.
I stared down at the grilled chicken, salad and creamy pasta and I picked up my knife and fork.
It didn't feel right in my hands, so I switched them around; that felt even worse.
I switched them back and I felt tears in my eyes.
"Sam? Sammy, what's wrong?" It was Dean.
I looked up at him and he stared back at me in shock. Dean hadn't seen me cry since I was 8.
"I can't..." I said and coughed.
Dean face was blurred by my tears and I couldn't tell if Cas and Gabe were still in the room.
"Can't what Sam? You can't eat it all? Is that what you mean? Because I'm sure Cas won't mind."
I shook my head.
"Then what Sam? Talk to me please? What's wrong?"
"I can't...remember...how to use a knife and fork." I whispered and squeezed my eyes shut, waiting for the laughter. It never came.
"Oh god, Sammy. I'm so sorry. I should've seen that something was wrong. I could've helped you." Dean said and a second later he was hugging me.
I broke down into tears, dropped the knife and fork I was still hodling and hugged him back tightly.
"I'm gonna help Sammy, okay? We all are. Me and Gabe and Cas, okay? All of us."
He didn't let go of me as he said that and I just nodded, not trusting my voice.
Anyone who wants to laugh at how pathetic it sounds to forget how to use your knife and fork think before you do.
This actually happened to me.
I live in Australia and when I was younger I would eat pretty much anything and everything. And so I was called the garbage disposal of the family. In year 9, my family saying it just got worse even though I wasn't eating anymore than they were and so I just stopped eating.
It made me feel sick to even think about food, let alone eating it.
I wouldn't eat breakfast or lunch and at dinner time I would eat as little as I could get away with.
Then one day I was sitting at the dinner table and I kept switching the knife and fork in my hands and finally I just dropped them and broke down and my mum asked me what was wrong. I hadn't eaten anything that had required cutlery for so long that I didn't know how to hold them or use them.
I however was just laughed at and told not to be stupid and to eat my dinner. I ended up just sticking the chicken piece (still whole) onto bread and made a sandwhich out of it so I could eat it.
If there's any spelling mistakes, I'm sorry. It's late and I am rather sleep deprived.