I walked inside the house cautiously, and Marissa's eyes lit up at my
presence.
"Ryan, he's here!!" She yelled toward the opened backdoor, and then walked over to me, looking me up and down.
"What happened?" She said, and started down at my arm that was resting across my stomach, not technically referring to my wrist.
Before I could answer, Ryan ran into the house, letting out a sigh of relief at the sight of me. What was going on?
"Seth... are you alright? What happened?" He said, looking me over, and then his eyes focused on my arm. He reached out and touched my wrist softly, and I stepped back.
"I'm fine. Why?" I said casually. I couldn't even look at them, and when I looked away, I noticed that I had just left the broken lamp there.
"Well, the front door was wide-open, and the lamp was broken. I thought something happened to you," He paused, looking down at my arm for a second time, "... and I'm guessing I was right..." He reached out once more for my arm, and I stepped back again this time into the coat rack. I was so frustrated that I roughly pushed it away from me with my good hand, and it fell over with a thump. Marissa stepped behind Ryan like she was scared of me, and I just looked down.
"Seth..." Ryan began, worriedly.
"I'm fine! It was an accident, okay? Jesus!" I turned around and slammed the front door. "Doesn't anyone shut a door around here?!" I said furiously, and turned back to Ryan and Marissa, who were looking at me like I was about to hurt someone... or myself.
I swallowed the forming lump in my throat, and ran up the stairs into my room, slamming that door shut as well, and locking it too. I positioned myself on the bed, and covered my body with my blanket. I could hear feet pounding up the stairs, and then the knocking on the door and twisting of the knob.
"I'M FINE!!" I said loudly, not angrily but forceful and clear.
"Seth! Open the door!" Ryan yelled. God, why was he being so melodramatic? Then again... why was I?
I uncovered myself, sat up from my bed, and walked over to my TV, pressed Power, and turning up the volume as high as it went. Full House was on.
I then darted into the bathroom, locking that door as well. I took a much- needed deep breath, and caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Who was that? I looked back, and stared harder this time. I ran my fingers down my face, and remembered what Summer had said to me.
"You're just a... a... big fat loser!" She said immaturely before walking out of my life.
"BIG FAT LOSER!" Voices from the past screamed in my head.
"Big fat loser... big fat loser." I said quietly to myself repeatedly.
I looked away quickly, disgusted by myself, and there I saw it, my old companion. I tried looking away but it was the only thing in my life at this point that felt right, and I knew it. I twisted the knob to the sink, out of habit, and I stumbled over to the toilet, lifted the lid, kneeled down, and slowly brought my index finger to my mouth. I then processed to purge up everything I eat that day.
"Just a little more..." I said to myself, and ridded my body of more "poison".
"Just a little more..." I said a few minutes later, between soundless sobs.
"Just a little more..." I said again weakly, and stopped minutes later when my stomach muscles were aching so badly I had to lay down.
The tile was cool, and felt good against my clammy face. I closed my eyes, and began reliving memories of Junior High when I was 75 pounds over weight.
"Ryan, he's here!!" She yelled toward the opened backdoor, and then walked over to me, looking me up and down.
"What happened?" She said, and started down at my arm that was resting across my stomach, not technically referring to my wrist.
Before I could answer, Ryan ran into the house, letting out a sigh of relief at the sight of me. What was going on?
"Seth... are you alright? What happened?" He said, looking me over, and then his eyes focused on my arm. He reached out and touched my wrist softly, and I stepped back.
"I'm fine. Why?" I said casually. I couldn't even look at them, and when I looked away, I noticed that I had just left the broken lamp there.
"Well, the front door was wide-open, and the lamp was broken. I thought something happened to you," He paused, looking down at my arm for a second time, "... and I'm guessing I was right..." He reached out once more for my arm, and I stepped back again this time into the coat rack. I was so frustrated that I roughly pushed it away from me with my good hand, and it fell over with a thump. Marissa stepped behind Ryan like she was scared of me, and I just looked down.
"Seth..." Ryan began, worriedly.
"I'm fine! It was an accident, okay? Jesus!" I turned around and slammed the front door. "Doesn't anyone shut a door around here?!" I said furiously, and turned back to Ryan and Marissa, who were looking at me like I was about to hurt someone... or myself.
I swallowed the forming lump in my throat, and ran up the stairs into my room, slamming that door shut as well, and locking it too. I positioned myself on the bed, and covered my body with my blanket. I could hear feet pounding up the stairs, and then the knocking on the door and twisting of the knob.
"I'M FINE!!" I said loudly, not angrily but forceful and clear.
"Seth! Open the door!" Ryan yelled. God, why was he being so melodramatic? Then again... why was I?
I uncovered myself, sat up from my bed, and walked over to my TV, pressed Power, and turning up the volume as high as it went. Full House was on.
I then darted into the bathroom, locking that door as well. I took a much- needed deep breath, and caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Who was that? I looked back, and stared harder this time. I ran my fingers down my face, and remembered what Summer had said to me.
"You're just a... a... big fat loser!" She said immaturely before walking out of my life.
"BIG FAT LOSER!" Voices from the past screamed in my head.
"Big fat loser... big fat loser." I said quietly to myself repeatedly.
I looked away quickly, disgusted by myself, and there I saw it, my old companion. I tried looking away but it was the only thing in my life at this point that felt right, and I knew it. I twisted the knob to the sink, out of habit, and I stumbled over to the toilet, lifted the lid, kneeled down, and slowly brought my index finger to my mouth. I then processed to purge up everything I eat that day.
"Just a little more..." I said to myself, and ridded my body of more "poison".
"Just a little more..." I said a few minutes later, between soundless sobs.
"Just a little more..." I said again weakly, and stopped minutes later when my stomach muscles were aching so badly I had to lay down.
The tile was cool, and felt good against my clammy face. I closed my eyes, and began reliving memories of Junior High when I was 75 pounds over weight.