Sanders Sides- Virgil

The Body of the Broken

After dinner, and being forced to eat all of my pasta, I quickly ran upstairs to my bathroom. Princey's have been getting to me. He's right. I am forever dirt. I am nothing. I am worthless. I am garbage. I am trash. I am a nobody.

I lock the door, lift up the lid to the toilet, and puke in it, shoving my fingers down my throat. The disgusting smell fills my nostrils and makes me puke more. I think that's a good thing though. This way, I'm losing all of this fat, I'm suffering for ruining things with Roman, erasing my happiness, not getting back my razors and blades and knife, and for being just a horrible person. I wipe the puke off of my mouth with my sweatshirt and flush all of that acid and food down the toilet. I close the lid, pull out my scale, and weigh myself. I look down at the number and a ghost of a smile haunts my face.

111 pounds.

I'm 38 pounds underweight. How am I still alive? You wanna know what? I don't care. As long as it kills me and takes me away from this cold world, then I'll be alright.

I hear a knock on my door and I sigh. Who could that be? I put the scale back in its place and walk over to my door. I ask, "Who is it?"

"It's Logan."

Wow. I wasn't expecting that.

I open the door and ask, "What do you want?"

He walks in my room without permission. Fucking asshole. He turns to me with a look of concern and seriousness. "Virgil, when was the last time you ate before tonight?"

I shrug. "About four days ago. Why do you care?" I narrow my eyes at him, suspicious of his newly founded encounter.

He sighs. "Virgil, are you just anorexic, or are you bulimic too?"

I freeze. Is he onto me or some shit? He must be. Why else would he ask a question like that? "I-I don't know what you m-mean." Good job Virgil. Stuttering is the best way to get him the fuck out of here.

Logan sighs. "I'll take that as a yes. Now, by my observations calculate that you threw up in the toilet and then weighed yourself. Virgil, how much do you weigh?"

Shit. He can't know. Then he'll tell Patton who will become my security guard and I'll become ugly and gross fat. Motherfucker! But I don't want to exactly lie to him. Fuck it. I'll tell him the truth. I can sneak past security guards.

I sigh. "I'm 111 pounds."

Logan gasps. "Virgil, you're 38 pounds underweight!"

I scratch the back of my neck. "Yeah, yeah, I know."

"But you're happy about that, aren't you?" Roman.

I turn around to see him standing there, his eyes all red and puffy to show that he's been crying. I cover my face with my hands and start crying. I nod. "Yes, yes, I am," I choke out. I fall to my knees and cry out, "Wake me up when September ends!"

"This is no time to make any Green Day references," Roman says.

I claw at my hair and manage to get out through sobs, "Put me to sleep and never wake me again! That's all I want! All I want is to end this pain and suffering for once in my pathetic life! I can't do it! I don't have the guts to! I just wish someone or something would do it for me..." I curl up on the floor, crying, regretting that I'm showing Logan how weak I can be.

Roman starts to cry. He sobs out of him, "Virgil...I don't want you to die. I need you. Logan needs you. Patton needs you. Thomas needs you. Please don't leave us. We would miss you so much and I can't fucking lose you. Okay? I can't fucking lose you!"

I look up at him and say, "You already have."

Roman stares at me in shock. "You're not going to forgive me?!" He clenches his hands into fists and starts crying harder.

"Nope. Life isn't a Disney movie, Princey. Everything doesn't end in forgiveness and true love and kisses and perfection. That's not how the real world works. What you're looking for in a person..." I shake my head. "Princey, that just didn't exist."

Roman falls down to his knees and crawls over to me. He cups my face in his hands and kisses me but I don't kiss back. I push him away even though it hurts to. I don't want to leave him but I fear I must because he just isn't someone I can now trust. Who knows when he would hurt me again. Anytime. That's when.

"Virgil, please! Just give me another chase!"

"Princey. I said I would give you three chances." I hold up three fingers. "Three. Not four. Not five. Not six. Three. Three chances. And you've ruined all of them."

"Wh-when- h-how- what were the th-three?"

I sigh. I really don't want to explain this to him. I'm already a crying mess. I don't want to explain it further more.

"First, you got all pissed at me, blaming me for causing Thomas a panic attack when it was really Logan's fault. Second, you yelled at me today in the bathroom and said the most meanest things anyone has ever said to me. Third, when we were eating dinner, you insulted me and laughed at the fact that we were ever a couple. That's proof more than anything that we just don't belong together or that you need to fix yourself before we can start anew. If your true problem with me is that I'm an anxious depressed anorexic bulimic mess, then you shouldn't date me or love me at all because that's all I am. Don't you understand that?"

I can tell that he's fuming. He growls, "I hate you so much right now."

"And the feeling is reciprocated."

Then, before I know it, Roman raises his fist at me, and punches me in the face, knocking me out.