Chapter 13

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Chapter 13

Rich nor Geoffrey got caught, and as time went on; they became dangerously thin. Dawn, the guidance counselor, openly discussed the dangers they were doing to their bodies, but they still denied any trickery. The room inspections grew more frequent, and we were at the point of having two a week. Terry followed the two around, and they weren't allowed to keep their door shut; however, they still lost weight.

I watched silently as they began to fade away. Rich never looked more proud as his clothes, even the ones that were intended to be tight, clung loosely from his body, and Geoffrey looked like a skeleton. His green eyes seemed to sink deep into his skull.

At our meals, Ruth always seemed exasperated. She basically begged Rich and Geoffrey to eat, and they did. They always ate.

They just never kept it down.

I continued to feel worse about lying, and I wanted so desperately to tell an adult, to talk to Dawn; however, whenever we were in therapy, I couldn't find a way to bring it up. Even in individual therapy, I was only praised for my "good behavior" and basically waved away. I was doing well, and that was all that mattered to the adults.

They didn't care about the war going on in my head.

Steven still didn't want to talk about the two other boys, and I suspected it was because he too was having a hard time witnessing them waste away. It wasn't fair that they got to be skinny and we had to continue to gain weight.

It wasn't fair.

Every trip to the bathroom came with a pleading darkness, a darkness that wanted me to give in. Every time I shut the stall door behind me, I felt the darkness coil around my legs and slowly travel up my spine. There, it whispered to me, Just do it, Max. You will feel so much better.

Yet, with my jaw clenched shut tightly, I fought the darkness from my mind. Every day was a battle, and with every day, I felt weaker, more vulnerable.

It was only a matter of time before the darkness won.

There was also a constant ache that made its home in my stomach, and when all of us were together, it seemed to intensify. The group therapy sessions were the absolute worse; I always felt like I would throw up at any moment; however, it was on one of those therapy sessions that I finally learned what made Rich tick.

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Dawn stood just outside of the door to her office as we filed in. She smiled gently as we all shuffled to our unofficial seats. Once we were all in our places, she shut the door behind us and made her way to her desk. We all sat in a silence that seemed to grow around us these last few weeks.

With each passing day, the silence thickened, becoming an invisible wall separating Rich and Geoffrey from Steven and I. The only time the four of us had any interaction was in group therapy.

I eyed the group as I pulled my knees to my chest. Steven's face was blank, expressionless as he waiting for Dawn to begin. His hands were folded tightly in his lap, but when he caught my eyes on him, his expression softened slightly and he squeezed my knee gently. Still silent, I placed my hand on his for the briefest of moment before he pulled away, returned his hands to his lap.

Geoffrey sat directly to my left. His long hair was thrown in a quick, messy bun, and he wore a simple black sweater and ripped black skinny jeans. Despite that his sweater hung from his body like a giant bag, Geoffrey still looked glamorous. He crossed his arms against his chest and seemed to sink into his chair.

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