Josie's Journey

Gastroparesis Friendly Booty Juice

Josie was finally back in her room. Her first day had been overwhelming. All of this new information, these new diagnoses... it was too much to handle. On top of all that, her shampoo, conditioner, and lotion had been confiscated - apparently, there were people who would chug their hair care products to try to off themselves. The staff had given her what was basically just the hotel-type miniatures. She didn't even want to shower, she was physically and emotionally exhausted.

"Hey." Josie's roommate had opened the door. "Dinner is soon. You coming?"

"Can't eat," she replied flatly, still just staring at the ceiling.

"Oh. Okay, sorry. Bye."

She got up from the uncomfortable mattress and went into the bathroom, carrying the tiny toiletries with her. She pulled the curtain shut behind her, trying to get as much privacy as she could. The mirror caught her eye, and she studied her reflection. Same face as always, but with different people contained behind it.

You'd like us to be free, wouldn't you Josie? A newly familiar voice, bitter and sharp and taunting her.

"I don't know..." she whispered, touching her reflection. Her eyes seemed foreign now, wide and blue and afraid. "Wh-who are you?"

Call me Carter, he replied. Don't worry... let me take care of this...

Josie's temples ached. She stared, gaze fixated on the reflection of her body, her consciousness slipping, morphing, changing.

"Disgusting," Carter spat at the reflection of Josie's body - the body they were all forced to share. He'd taken over, and for what? He hated the long hair, the curved figure, the freakin tube down their nose.

He repeated the same routine that he'd done many times before: stripped-down, stood in front of the mirror and picked apart everything he hated - everything he'd change.

Collar bones aren't visible enough. Arms are too fat. There's a stupid tube shoved down my nose that's going to make this ridiculous body even fatter. His list of imperfections went on and on.

He sighed deeply, then got into the shower. The water was barely warmer than room temperature. He sighed again - he preferred scalding hot showers. Carter closed his eyes and let the water cover his face. He didn't want to see anything. He didn't want to see this body, this foreign and disgusting thing.

Usually, when his hatred got this deep, he'd pull out a crafting knife that he'd stolen from their school's art room. But, of course, there was no way they could have a blade in a psych ward... Desperate to hurt this thing that he despised, he stuck his arm out of the shower curtain and fumbled around for the toothbrush that the hospital had been provided.

He grabbed it, fist closing tight - the cheap plastic would snap easily. Bracing his leg on the floor, he put the toothbrush handle across his knee and pressed down hard on both sides. Crack.

Carter smiled faintly. There was a clean break, sharp edges... this would do nicely.

Pressing down hard, he dragged it across the body's right thigh. At first, nothing more than scratches, but a persecutor's determination can be underestimated. He watched with a perverse satisfaction as trickles of blood flowed down his leg and down the drain.

— — —

Josie awoke the next morning, the sun shining on the wall and birds chirping in the tree by her window. She sat up slowly and winced when a beam of sun hit her directly in the eyes. Since she didn't really "eat" breakfast, she was allowed to sleep in past it, but she had to be awake in time for the morning check-in group.