They put me in a room

And I thought of you in winter

And I'm sad I won't see you again.

Even though she's wearing shoes, Madge can tell that the hospital floor is cold. She tries to sneak through the halls and avoid any of the nurses, but as soon as she feels a head turn she breaks out into a run towards the room.

"Madge Undersee!" the nurse calls behind her. The woman chases her down the corridor and follows Madge to her room. "Where have you been all night?"

"Nowhere," she shrugs. "It won't happen again." She sits down onto the bed and sheds her coat, ready to take the nurse's verbal spar.

"Of course not. I'm sure I don't need to remind you that Doctor Aurelius allowing you to be at school at all is a privilege, dear."

"I know," Madge groans, lying down on the hospital cot and curling up her body for protection.

"If it wasn't for your father insisting that you make some friends with people your own age, it would've been very unlikely for the same thing to occur. Your party was a special circumstance, and we truly didn't expect that you'd be out past your curfew."

"I wasn't up all night dancing and having fun, you know?" she deadpans. Nurse Ritter, who has been looking after Madge for months now, softens her face and sits on the bed beside her. She doesn't want to patronize her, Madge knows that, but she should've done something before she started to feel truly bad. Call the hospital, or something. "I wasn't well."

"Was it serious? Were you vomitting again?

"A little bit, I don't know. I was blurry, and my stomach hurt and I was exhausted. I don't think I'm ready to go out and socialize with all those people when I can't even keep food down."

"It takes time. Your body needs to get used to eating again."

"I know, I just…" Madge thinks about how to justify herself, how to possibly rationalize the way she's feeling right now. Recovery seems so far away, like a distant ideal she'll be chasing forever. "I know I have to eat. I know… how to eat, I know I wasn't looking after myself before, but, I'll do okay."

"You don't have to do it all on your own Madge, that's why you're here. That's why I'm here."

Madge plays with the sleeves of her sweater. She thinks that although her night (and herself) were a disaster, yesterday wasn't all bad. She met that cute boy who works at the pool, his eyes were so grey that they made her shiver. She wonders what kind of people go to the pool in the middle of January, in a town like this.

"Are you going to call my parents?"

"No, I don't think that'll be necessary. I have faith that you'll call us if this ever happens to you again."

"I will, I promise."

"Thank you. You have an appointment with Doctor Aurelius this afternoon, but otherwise you're free for the rest of the morning. Is there anything that you'd like to do?"

Madge tries not to laugh, by "free" Nurse Ritter means within the confines of the hospital premises. She could technically sign herself out of the building, but she doubts the nurses would let her after last night, and besides, she really has nowhere to go. Her parents and friends are back home, and only brought her to this small town because of the recovery programs this hospital had to offer. She doesn't know anyone around here, nor does she know what to do with herself.

"I think I'll practice for a little bit."

"Perfect, I'll make sure the piano room is free for you to use. Why don't you take a shower first, I'll bring you breakfast."

Her mother had ensured that the hospital had a piano for her to continue practicing when she got here. The piano seemed to be the only constant for Madge in these past few months, but she'll gladly cling to it. Playing makes her feel comfortable, like she can breathe again, and nobody could take that away from her.

Madge showers lethargically and rinses away all traces of last night - the eyeliner she spent a good twenty minutes trying to get right, her matted hair, the sticky feel that coated all of her skin. She swears that she could smell Gale's aftershave still, just from standing in his bathroom, but right now it's all washed away. It's a smell she'll miss.

Breakfast should be appetizing, but when Madge steps out of her bathroom and sees the tray her heart just fills with dread.

Her relationship with food is strained, to say the least. Now, she's aware that it's good for her and she needs to eat it; there was a time when nothing tasted better than the cold satisfaction of water down her throat and into her empty stomach. But these days Madge feels hopeless that she'll ever look at a plate of anything and think that the smell is appetizing. She can't hold anything down, she fucked up her body too much, and now every attempt at eating well is just ruined by her imminent failure.

She nibbles on a couple pieces of fruit that she can digest fine. She doesn't even bother touching the eggs, and for the piece of toast, Madge closes her eyes and shoves it into her mouth and swallows blindly. It doesn't taste like much of anything, but that will have to do for now.

The pool is empty on Saturdays, really. An old man swims lengths back and forth at a leisurely pace, and Gale watches him closely with nothing else to do but stare.

These shifts always feel the longest, but Gale doesn't truly mind. It's far better than a noisy school hallway, and it's a reprieve from his busy home. In this guard chair, he feels like he can empty his mind and just concentrate on watching other people. It gets him out of his brain.

He learned a technique when he was in training, where he would count the heads in the pool to ensure that no one suddenly disappeared. Perhaps the trainers should've specified that if there were less than two people, there was no need. But Gale counts the one man's head over and over again; at least the guy is safe in his hands.

That thing that the girl, Madge, said on the bus was untrue.

"I guess you're always saving lives then."

"Yeah, I guess you could say that."

Gale doesn't think that what he's doing now constitutes as saving lives. Nor does he ever feel that way, other than his chivalrous act last night, he isn't a life saver. If anything he's a life withstander. He bears through life and hopes that's enough to send him good karma.

He would never have corrected her about it, though. The more admirably she thinks of him the better.

She plays with a forced ease, drawing on songs she knew far too well, yet far too long ago. Her piano at home had a rounder, sweeter sound. This piano is crisp and sharper, and she isn't used to this song sounding like this.

Madge doesn't know what's wrong with her. Usually just being near a piano makes it easier to get by, but right now this song sounds like a repetitive, monotonous tune. The uncomfortable notes that she's playing occupy every part of her brain to the point where she's aware of how unfortable it make her feel.

It's important to push through it, to get to the end of the song. Perhaps completing the sonata will bring Madge to some sort of emotional conclusion and fix the uneasy feeling.

Five bars before the end she has to stop. The broken notes are everywhere, screaming in her head and tightening in her stomach.

Madge leaves the piano bench and crouches on the floor. The feeling peaks and she heaves, the sound of her gagging echoes into the empty room and she hates it, she hates it so much. What little breakfast she had is now on the floor, and Madge thinks she'll take a break from her instrument for now.

A/N: I don't want this story to be about a boy, "healing" a girl through her real life issues. Things like eating disorders and mental illness are complex and likely won't be cured by meeting another person, no matter how much they matter to you. Madge is more than just Gale and vice versa, do you know what I mean?

Comments and kudos are deeply appreciated, thank you for reading. :)