Back To You // Peter Hayes

basorexia

an overwhelming desire to kiss

The familiar sound of the clanging of metal rang through the room as everyone woke up around me, groaning and squinting at the bright lights that blinded them. I'd already been up all night, just like all this week I'd been too afraid to let the nightmares back in, but of course exhaustion was nothing a little caffeine couldn't fix. Although I must admit, it was slowly creeping up on me.

"Why is it, that every time I go to sleep, you're awake. Then as soon as I wake up again, you're already up. Even when I wake up in the middle of the night, you're still sat there staring blankly at the wall. So, either you fall asleep with your eyes open, or...?" Peter questioned. God, this boy is nosy.

"It's called insomnia Peter, reading a book every now and then wouldn't kill you." I smiled sarcastically.

"Insomnia? What's that?" he frowned,

"Oh my god, shut up! Can't you keep your nose in your own business for once Peter?!" I yelled at him, he stepped back slightly raising his hands up in defence and widening his eyes. "Sorry..." I looked down at the floor and mumbled, "I just don't like it when people feel the need to know things about me, personal things, when I've barely known them for a month. Especially when I can't stand them half the time." I spoke slightly through gritted teeth accusingly.

"Of course. My bad for trying to be a friend." he scoffed and walked away, throwing his arms up. 'Friend'. He never used that word when describing me, it was usually in the form of insults and backhanded compliments, never did I think he thought of me as a friend. I sat in my bed trying to put together the pieces of a puzzle of the guy, Peter Hayes. From what Al told me, he'd always been a dick, even to his closest mates and he wasn't always sure how to be nice. Al reckons it had something to do with his parents; maybe they were like mine and he never had the opportunity to escape like I did. Maybe him picking up on my problems was a way of showing concern? I don't know. Whatever the story was, complicated or not, I don't want to know.

Today's training exercise was knife-throwing. Bad idea. My emotions were on an irregular high this morning, but not the good kind, I was pissed, on-edge and out-of-my-mind exhausted. We were all made to skip breakfast this morning and go straight to training, meaning I missed out on the one thing that was keeping me awake, Eric said breakfast will feel like more of a reward if we wait. I hope he still feels that way when one of my knifes 'accidently' lands between his eyes.

Walking towards the training room, I started to feel lightheaded, like, really lightheaded. Will was talking to me, telling me about some arm injury he got in a fight he had the other day, his voice started to fade and everything turned into white noise. Next I struggled to keep my eyes open, my vision blurred at the corners and I stumbled sideways onto someone-probably Chris, I think she was there, I can't remember. I knew what was coming after, everything fell silent and all I saw was darkness.

"Baby, Baby, Wake up!" Will shook his best friend's seemingly lifeless body after she collapsed to the floor. He placed the hand of his good arm on her forehead, her skin was boiling hot to touch despite her sick, pale complexion.

"Will, I'm sure she's fine. We can get her to a medic soon." Four comforted him as he leant his little sister against the wall of the corridor, cleverly masking the worry and panic he felt inside.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Go now!"

"Wait, look..." Peter spoke up from the background, quickly concealing his previous fearful expression, "She's waking up."

I opened my eyes slowly to be presented with crowds of people all around me- I was on the floor up against the wall, not quite sure how I got here but everyone looked pretty scared and Will was almost crying. "Why are you all looking at me like that?" I frowned, laughing slightly,