Picture perfect

Vomit

Things are getting out of hand.

Ever since I blacked out a few weeks ago and ended up in the hospital for a few days, the manager hasn't stopped picking on me.

It seeks like everything is my fault in his eyes.

He takes care of my training so personally it's starting to get a little creepy.

He's always the one to hit my stomach when we practice our vocals. Now I have bruises all over my skin, some of them due to him hitting way harder than needed and the others from malnutrition.

I've been feeling so weak lately I don't even know if I will physically be able to finish my ten year contract.

There's a pretty huge chance I won't even debut.

I try not to think to much as we dance.

I feel sick to my stomach and my head is pounding again.

Shit.

"N•o13! Why the hell did you stop? Do you think you're so great you can-"

His words are cut by the sickening sound of my insides pouring on the floor of the practice room.

I fold myself in half, clutching my aching stomach as my vision becomes blurry again.

Bile runs up my throat making me wonder if this will ever end.

All the trainees stopped the dance and now everyone is watching in complete silence.

I cough loudly, chocking on my own vomit.

"N•o13..." The manager says.

He walks to me, slowly, the loud clanking of his expensive shoes on the polished floors making my head ache even more.

A loud slap is heard across the room.

After slowly realising my head had snapped to the side and my cheeks was know aching, I looked back to him.

My eyes didn't water though. I simply looked at him mecanically.

It all felt weird.

It felt like I wasn't in my body anymore, like I didn't even have control over anything.

"You just puked on the floor." He said, sounding astonished.

I didn't say anything, simply staring at my feet.

"Apologise!" He yelled, all the trainees flinching at his loud voice through the thick silence.

"Apologise to the floor while someone gets something to clean!" He added.

I didn't do anything, not really believing what he just order me to do.

"ON YOUR KNEES N•013!" He roared.

I flinched this time, seing as a vein popped out of his neck, just like it had before he hit me for the first time out of the vocal lessons.

I dropped to my knees, the remainings of my past meal still staining the floor.

I placed my hands right before the first stains and placed my forehead on my knucles

"I am truly sorry." I said loudly, knowing he would have made me repeat it if I didn't.

I suddenly felt the heal of his shoe press against the back of my head.

"See this everyone, n•013 is on the same level as his own barf!" He yelled.

I didn't say anything, simply trying to hold my breath not to catch the disgusting smell of bile.

He suddenly kicked my stomach, knocking the air out of my lungs and surprising me.

I would have never expected him to do that.

The strong move made me fall to my side, too exhausted to even do anything anymore.

He scoffed.

After a cleaning lady dropped a bucket and a mop next to me, her eyes trailing over my body and reaching my eyes with pity.

"Come on everyone, we'll move somewhere else while he finishes this." He spat.