Every thing and Nothing

29: Rest

Keep your mouth fucking shut. Keep quiet. Keep mum. Silence. Shut. Shut. Don't speak. You can feel the silence judging the words coming out of your mouth. You can feel the people's stares screaming at your back. Every word you say is analysed by yourself. You can't speak your mind. Every morsel you eat is counted. You can't even eat the food set in front of you. You eat, so aware of every chew and every swallow. Then you run and under the shower head you stick your fingers to the back of your throat. Pulling; you vomit. Bile and tears mix as one on the shower floor. Your body is quivering and the clothes you ripped off in a haste are lying on the floor. Then everything collapses around you and you're sobbing on the floor, sitting in a mixture of bloody bile and water. Tears are pushing a lump into your throat. A scream threatens to rip through your very being. Your phone pings. Just another a useless text. You type back a reply, tears still blurring your vision. Your hands become harsh as they wipe at your face. How dare you break down. How dare you submit to the weakness. Your hands are in your hair and your body is rocking back and forth. The water has stained your phone. Water is running from the shower head. The vomit is nearly gone. Down the drain. Down. Down. Down. Just like your fight. Your body can't take it. It's so cold but steam is fogging the mirror. It's so cold. You wrap your arms around your body. Aware of each bone and how it juts out. It's so cold. So cold. Maybe if  you just close your eyes against this tiled wall you can rest for a while. It's so cold. You close your eyes.

Unaware that in a few hours time people will be banging on your door, trying to open it, it's locked.

Unaware that in a few hours, the door will be broken open.

Unaware that in a few hours your family will cry over your body. Your dead body.

Unaware that your friends will get a call, in a few hours, and they will all blame themselves, because they were all gathered together, hanging out without you. They will blame that they forgot about you- like always.

Unaware that in a few hours,
Your body will be carried out by paramedics, followed by a weeping entourage.

Unaware that every family member and every friend will break down again in the hospital, when they find out, that you had depression, anxiety and were severely underweight.

Unaware that in a few days, your death will be announced to your school year. And all the people who knew you will shed a few tears. But everyone, and I mean everyone, will cry when your diary is read out. Teachers will fall, uncaring of how unprofessional they look.

They will hear your silent suffering.
But for now... Rest.

-Esha Dev