unbreak every fracture in my heart

Untitled Part 1

Thanks to PhoenixFlight25 on Fictionpress for betaing this!

"I think you should go to therapy."

Shay turned to stare at her best friend.

"Seriously," Marina continued. "I think it's a good idea. It could help."

"It could, or it could not." She didn't mean to sound so harsh. This wasn't the first time Marina had brought up therapy. Sometimes Shay wanted to give it a try, but the idea was scary and she didn't know how to approach the topic with her parents. It was just too nerve-wracking.

Marina shook her head and reached out to take Shay's hand. "Shay," she said, looking into her eyes. "You never know if you don't try. I know I can't force you, but think about it? For me, please. I want you to get better."

Shay stood stiffly.

"Shayla, please." Marina's voice broke and Shay closed her eyes. Marina never called her by her full name.

She looked away, tears blurring her vision. "I guess- I mean- I could ask Mom-" she mumbled, blinking rapidly. "I'll think about it," she conceded.

Marina pulled her into a tight hug and Shay buried her face in Marina's shoulder, trying not to breathe in how good she smelled. She wanted herself to get better, too. At least sometimes. She wasn't really sure. Part of her just wanted to drown in her misery until there was nothing left.

Shay picked at her food, moving it around on her plate. She had learned how to make it look like she had eaten. She couldn't eat any more. She had to do something.

"Oh!" she exclaimed suddenly. Thank god she was a fast thinker most of the time. At least she used to be. "I forgot about some stuff on my to do list. Is it alright if I eat in my room?'

"I suppose, but bring your plate down when you're done," her mom warned.

"I will, thanks." She escaped to her room and shut the door. The plate slipped out of her hand and she made no move to stop it or pick it up.

She gripped her hair. She wanted the food out. She needed it out now, fuck. She moved towards the bathroom.

Shay glanced up at the mirror and stood straight. Her stomach stuck out, her arms were huge, her thighs were fat, god, she was so disgusting and ugly. All she wanted was to be skinny. She wanted to be able to feel her ribcage, to watch as her collarbones and jawline became prominent. She wasn't worth anything if she wasn't skinny and beautiful, and she was neither.

She tried to breathe slowly. Her mind was whirling with thoughts- too fat, you ate too much, get it all out of you.

She held her wrist out in front of her, paying no attention to the thin white scars that littered her skin, instead tracing the sides of her wrist. It was smaller than it had been last year- but she wanted it even smaller.

Frustration and self hate bubbled over. "Just fucking do it," she whispered, angry with herself, and she shoved her fingers down her throat in one quick motion. She slowed as her gag reflex activated, some fear hanging onto her, but she held them in place, waiting, wiggling them around until her stomach churned and she bent over the sink. It was harder to purge lately- she had less of a gag reflex now.

Fuck. There was barely anything there, but she had done it. She started again, blinking away the tears that accompanied watery eyes and a dizzy head. More came out and her fingers automatically pulled away. Leaning against the sink, breathing heavily, she looked up through long eyelashes at the reflection.

She felt lighter, better. Emptier. She knew this would become even more addicting than it already was, if she wasn't careful. And to be fucking honest- she didn't want to be careful. This was dangerous, yes. It was incredibly self destructive. But she no longer cared about herself, and if this happened to kill her along the way, then good. She didn't want to live anymore anyway. If she couldn't be skinny, then she'd rather be dead.

Marina chewed on her lip as she washed dishes. She was worried about Shay. She had never agreed to even think about therapy until now. Shay deserved to get better, and Marina so desperately wanted her to admit that she needed help. But Shay was so stubborn. Stupidly stubborn. Marina fought back a smile as she remembered all the times Shay had been stubborn. Too many to count.

"Just admit that it hurts," Marina's brother Charlie teased as he (lightly ish, Marina knew) hit Shay's arm.

Shay shook her head. "Doesn't hurt," she insisted, her eyes firm.

Charlie smirked. "You sure?" the thirteen year old laughed tauntingly.

Shay crossed her arms. "I said what I said"-

"Marina?" Her mom's voice broke through her thoughts and interrupted the memory. "Honey, you've been washing that dish for ages."

Marina glanced down and realized she had been holding a bowl under running water long after the soap had rinsed off.

"Sorry," she said, flashing a smile at her mother. "Was busy thinking." She placed the dish away and dried her hands. She was tired; she had better get to bed.

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