Wrong Guy

23 | and now she's gone

tw: eating disorders

SONG:
Big Girls Cry - Sia

Episode 23:
AND NOW SHE'S GONE

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L A W R E N C E ' S P O V :

I shake my head, taking a deep breath before my body collapses against the ground behind me. I can feel a dainty dandelion being smashed beneath my head, as my fingers grip onto the freshly mowed grass surrounding me. When my hands form into fists the grass I once held is ripped from its roots, leaving a gaping hole of dirt in its place. A gaping hole of emptiness created by my own fleshy fingers.

When I release the delicate blades from my grasp, my breathing patterns return to normal. Pulling myself from the anger of earlier today, I look straight ahead at the girl who deserves my respect right now.

"Sorry, I'm sure that you don't want to hear about Fawn. Again – " I stare down at her name, and it takes a lot for me to keep myself together. After everything that happened last year, there's this haunting sense of guilt that has never really left. Some things never do, but – I know at least one thing – no two, that have.

Things that have left.

Eve, and myself. My old self. He left with her, he's gone to somewhere far away, somewhere better.

Her gravestone isn't very big. My parents would've bought her an entire memorial if I hadn't stopped them before they got the chance to think too much about it. I'm glad I did because this is what Eve would've wanted. Something small, not too flashy. Nothing that would make people pay her a second glance.

She always thrived in the shadows – where no one could see her.
Mainly because she was hiding things from us. Things that quite literally killed her in the end.

Baggy T-Shirts can cover a lot, and eating in your bedroom every night is typical teenage behavior.
That's what my parents assumed since she was the first teenager they ever had to live with.

Back when they were teens, they weren't nearly as aware of what eating disorders were.
Let alone what 'the tells' were.

The only tell they know now is the heart attack that sent her straight to her grave.

I remember the first time I asked her about her weight was two weeks before she died.
For the three years she had been starving herself I had been preoccupied with school and hanging out with friends. Back then I did care about my grades, getting places on my own without the help of my parents.

She was on her tip toes – reaching for a packet of instant oatmeal and her sweatshirt lifted up. I could see the bone of her hips protruding from her backside, every ridge of her spine visible before her sweatshirt returned to its place. The question I asked was something along the lines of –

'When did you get so skinny?'

If I had known – if I had known what she was doing. The things she was going through, I would never have said that. I would've – I don't even know, but I wouldn't have said that because the look on her pallid face was horrifying. I was the soul cause of it – me, and all I could do was wish it would go away.

'I've just lost a few pounds for cheer, you don't have to be so rude. I already get it all the time from peers.'

It was like she'd been caught red handed, that her dirty little secret was being exposed. Of course it wasn't, I never said anything – or thought anything of it after that. That's where the other half of the guilt comes in.

Not even mentioning it. Remaining quiet, silent, guilty.

I mean, at that point there's not much anyone could do, but they would've done something. Something is better than nothing. Anything is better than nothing, and I am the nothing – I am the lack of something.

I rip a blade of grass in half.

Something is better than nothing the same way having a cousin is better than having no cousin. I'm sure she'd say the same about living without her parents, instead of her pretty darn awful uncle and his frighteningly work-oriented and boring wife. It's always better when you're with the people you care about.

It always is.

And now that she's gone, just like that – I'm without the person I cared about.

And life is pretty darn gray, and the only sunlight left – I just found curled up in someone else's arms, bearing a secret that would add rain to the overcast sky I'm living under.

She has a brother. Who does awful things to her, and –
And it hurts to know she never planned on even speaking of him. Ever. To anyone.

Maybe that's why I'm deciding to keep Eve a secret. To get her back for not sharing. And maybe that's wrong, but – maybe it's the only way to make me feel like I have control again.

Control of something before I join her.

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QUESTIONS:

What do you think of Lawrence visiting Eve's grave?

What do you think of how his family was unaware of Eve's anorexia?

AUTHOR'S NOTE:
Hi! Today was kinda a shit day for me so sorry if it's represented in my writing. But, yeah.
Please support my story through sharing it with other Wattpadians, voting, and commenting!
It really means the world! Hope you enjoyed this chapter!
- tat <3