Limited Life

Limited Life. -Chapter Four.

Chapter Four.

A Burning Throat and a Trip down Horrid Stomach Pain.

Everyone was down stairs, all waiting for my Dad to come home –including Dylan. It had been six days since I told him about everything, and he’s been great. He hasn’t left my side since, literally. His father didn’t need help at the farm, so he agreed to let him stay here for a while.

Surprisingly, everyone else in the house said it was okay, too. They said it was important I had a friend’s support in this. A boy or not, Dylan was still a friend, and they just couldn’t bring themselves to say no considering everything that’s happening.

We had to share a bed, because my Mom didn’t want him staying on our lumpy sofa, and there was nowhere else. I didn’t mind though, some nights it was like he wasn’t there. My bed’s pretty big, and he doesn’t move a lot in his sleep, so it’s okay.

My fingers squeezed the lid of toilet seat, my knees rubbing against the fabric of my jeans because I was down on them.

I coughed and coughed, being as quiet as possible. But, I just don’t have control of this. I don’t have control, and that’s the problem.

My stomach hurt, and my throat was burning. I just can’t do this anymore.

Six years of this, six years of binging and purging, and I'm still not perfect. I will be though, I'll show everyone. I will be perfect.

I felt someone rest their head on my exposed skin. My cardigan was thrown on the ground, and my tank top cut low on my back. I automatically knew by their skin that it was Dylan. Everyone else was too old to have skin as soft as his.

I puked more, surprisingly enough it wasn’t blood coming up. My throat now felt like someone had shrunk down to a microscopic size, went into me, bringing a lighter with them, and set alight to my oesophagus.

It was on fire!

Tears stained my cheeks, and I gasped at every chance I could.

Dylan kissed my neck, and lay his head down on my back again.

Reaching my hand up, I flushed the toilet. Both Dylan and I now on our feet.

I went straight over to the mirror with tissue in my hand, and wiped down my eyes. Turning the cold tap on, and rinsing my mouth out with the water.

“Your Dad’s downstairs,” I nodded, and wiped my face down with the towel.

Turning around to Dylan, to see his eyes full of pain. I put my cardigan back on.

“Dylan, I’m sorry you had to see that,” I said sincerely, genuinely sorry about what he had walked in on.

But, as I said, this was out of my control.

He nodded, taking my hand, and leading me down the stairs.

I ran –my version of running- into my father’s arms once we got down to the living room.

“Daddy,” I whispered as he spun us around.

“Yes, princess?”

“I missed you,” He was gone before I woke up in the morning, and back after I fell asleep at night. I told him repeatedly to wake me up when he got back, but he never did.

“I missed you, too,” he put me down, and we all talked more.

I left them for a second, getting a much needed drink of cold water, only to walk back in the middle of one of their discussions.

“So, Dylan, it’s your birthday tomorrow, right?” My Mom asked him sweetly.

“Sure is.” Dylan smiled at her.

“What are you doing for it?” Liz asked, curiosity filling every inch of her eyes.

I sat down in the middle of my father and Dylan. My father had met Dylan before. On numerous occasions, Dylan was still awake when he got back from work. But now, Dad had taken the next week off work. He needed the break, and it hit him bad when he found out about me. As is expected...

“Spending it here with you guys, of course.”

“You’re not going to visit your parents?” My Dad asked him nicely.

“Nope. I can’t go a day without my girl,” Dylan wrapped his arm around my shoulder, and I took another drink.

Dylan was already attached, which was making it hurt more, knowing how much it was going to hurt him when I died.