stay away from me // larry

h. styles

I woke up with wires attached to me. I wasn't in my bed. I wasn't in my clothes. So I guessed I was in the hospital. That's the only place I could think of. Plus, the no underwear kind of gave it away. I sat up, using most of my strength to do so. 

I remembered what happened, which shocked me. Most of the time when I watched movies or read books, the people who got admitted into the hospital unknowingly didn't remember what happened to get them in there. But I know exactly what happened.

I was arguing with my mum, which wasn't unusual. She told me that she wanted to put me in therapy, and I told her that she was making a mistake. Then she got mad, telling me that I was too skinny and that I needed help. And then I ate. I ate to prove her that I am not too skinny. But then I threw up. Then there was nothing left to throw up, and I just threw up blood. Then I passed out. And now I'm here.

I wasn't exactly sad about being here, though. I got to miss school. That's a plus. I had time to write. And maybe, just maybe, I'll die. That's not something most people get excited about. I know. But I look forward to it. I look forward to not having to suffer anymore in this world full of lies and disappointment. I look forward to being an existent nothing that misguidedly floats effortlessly through the world. But if I told that to my mum, therapy wouldn't be an option. I would go straight to an asylum.

Those are the things I write about. I write about my thoughts, but with how I word them, they seem more like poems lacking rhymes. I grabbed my notebook to start writing down my thoughts. Since I was in the hospital, you'd think that I would have a lot. But I only ended up writing one word.

Louis.

~