Growing up (Get Scared- continued)

Good Nightmares

Nick's Pov.

  I shut the door behind me. I can still hear my mom yelling after me, wanting me to come back and sit at the table. 

   The lights in my room are still off as I melt into the bed, nearly becoming part of it. It's the only thing that doesn't hurt my bony body to sit or lie on. The mattress supports me as the blankets embrace me gently. Under the covers the world becomes a safer place. I'm protected from the creatures that lurk in the dark that want to tear me to pieces and most of all, social interactions.

  That was probably the most uncomfortable situation I have ever been in in my entire life. Everyone just waiting for me to eat. My parents implementing table rules for me infront of my friends. Johnny was about to have a panic attack for some reason. And Lloyd, well Lloyd obviously could not take the tension. I don't blame the guy, I couldn't take it either.

  The cake was just the last cherry on top of the anxiety sundae. It wasn't even just the fact that I was supposed to eat it despite already feeling disgusting, though it did play a big factor. See, the cake symbolizes birthdays, birthdays imply a new year of life. Well, I don't know if I can make it through another year. Or even want to for that matter. Being there, having people celebrate yet another year of my life while I complain about it just didn't feel right.

  A soft knock followed by a sad voice asking to come in comes from behind the door. I can't tell if it's Johnny or Lloyd.

"I'm not gonna eat that fucking cake!"

"We're not asking you to, we just want to give you the presents we got you," Bradley explains. "Can we come in?"

I sigh, "Yeah, come on in." I sit up hesitantly.

The door busts open to an over excited Bradley Iverson with a dorky smile on his face and a shyly content Johnny... I don't know his last name... Who's doing what I usually do. Standing behind Brad.

"Take," Brad demands, shoving a red gift bag with black tissue paper in my face. 

I take the bag from his hands and remove the tissue paper. There's a black t shirt inside. Hell yeah my favorite color. I pull it out to check out the design. It's the blink-182 self titled logo. 

"This really cool. Thanks Brad."

Johnny holds out guitar strings and picks, "I didn't have anything to wrap it with, but here you go."

Ernie Ball and grip picks. Much needed for when and if I find the energy and motivation to even touch my guitar.

"Thanks bud. They will be put to use."

"Cool. Cool."

There's a pause and I take it as a chance to get them out of my house. "Hey, uh, I don't mean to be rude, but I don't think I'm mentally well enough to be with people right now."

"Oh. Uh. Okay," Brad stutters, backing away.

"Guess we should get going," Johnny says. He gives me a side hug and so does Bradley.

Right before they walk out the door, Bradley said "Hope you feel better!" 

It's been two hours, I'm surprised my parents haven't busted in to my room to shove a feeding tube down my nose. It's seven thirty, so I'm guessing the hospital allowed me to star home for tonight. Great, maybe I will actually be able to sleep for once.

I start drifting off. My eye lids feel heavy and when they close, it feels like I should never open them again.

I open my eyes to find myself over a toilet. It's dirty and the rest of the bathroom looks like the perfect place to get murdered in. It looks like chunks of undigested food swimming in blood in there. I lean over the disgusting toilet as my stomach gets rid of whatever I just ate. More blood. Pain wraps around my stomach and squeezes it. Its like I swallowed barbed wire.