Fat // Harry Styles

chapter fourteen

chapter fourteen

NAT STOOD, STIFF. He seemed more threatened by the medical staff than I was. I watched his hands clench and unclench at his sides, his jaw twitching and tightening when the doctor attempted to explain his reasoning. I couldn't hear him--neither of them. My stomach was in knots, nothing to do with the hunger I was supposedly feeling.

A headache formed at the base of my skull, and behind my eyes. I squeezed my eyes shut, the light suddenly too bright. When I opened them again, Nat was holding his hands up and waving them, like he was trying to block the doctor from getting to me. I forced myself to sit up completely, managing to lean forward in search of my mother. She obviously set this up. Would she handle watching it play out?

She was there, but I don't think it was to watch. Her hand was over her mouth, and her eyes were rimmed red. She kept shaking her head, and when Nat tried to talk to her, she looked away. Every time her head popped back up, though, she'd look at me. Hoping--praying--I would speak up. I would end it and do the right thing.

What was the right thing?

I couldn't really process what was happening in the first place. I just wanted my brother to attempt his magic trick again. I wanted him to keep making me smile and laugh. I didn't want whatever this was. These people trying to tell me what's good and not good for me. What do they know? It was hard to believe they knew anything, other than the desire to control.

I was finally able to make out what Nat was saying, and what the others were arguing. I wished I wasn't able to comprehend it, wished I couldn't hear. Could I make myself pass out? That would give me time, wouldn't it? But I don't think you can force yourself to faint, unfortunately. If you could, I was clueless as to how. And I'd already worried everyone enough, hadn't I? I felt really nauseous, really lightheaded. What was going on again?

"Mom, you can't let them do this to her!" Nat shouted.

Oh yeah, the whole Delilah-starving-herself debacle. I wasn't starving. You had to be hungry to be starving.

Mom reached her boiling point, stomping her foot. "Nathan, do you think I want this? All she has to do is choose the soup! I'm terrified for her, Nathan. I just want her home." She was crying hard now.

Nat ran both his hands through his short brown hair. "What if she doesn't, huh? You know how persistent she is on saying she isn't hungry."

"Well, then, she's not going to leave me any other choice. I'm thinking about her health, whether she believes that or not."

Dad came in, put his arm around her. She shoved her face in his shoulder, her body shuddering with her sobs. Dad was staring at me. Nathan was staring at me. The doctor and nurse were staring at me. I didn't like making decisions. Especially those I didn't want to make in the first place.

Nat leaned over to me, his eyes frantic and his forehead beaded with sweat. "D, listen to me, okay? Just choose the soup. If you don't, they're going to restrain you to the bed, and put that damned tubed down you. I know you don't want that. I know you know none of us want that, either. So... please, Delilah. It's just soup."

I rubbed my forehead, pinched my eyes shut, and shook my head. "I don't want it. I don't want anything. I'm fine. I'm fine."

Nat grabbed my hand, gripped it tight. "Please, Delilah. I'm begging you. I'll even help you eat it when they leave, would that work?"

I shook my head, more violently this time. "I'm fine!" I yelled, unintentionally. I hadn't meant to shout, but none of them could understand anything. "I don't want it, and I don't need it."