twisted - muke - the distortion trilogy 1

0.6

(A/N: TRIGGER WARNING THIS CHAPTER HAS SOME BULIMIA MENTIONS AND SUICIDAL GORDON SO PLEASE DONT READ IT IF IT WILL HURT YOU ❤️❤️❤️❤️)

MICHAEL'S P.O.V.

I try to hold myself together as I hastily exit Luke's house, but Gordon is screaming so loud I'm afraid my body will shut down. I quickly thank Luke for having me and I dart out the door, stumbling across his yard and into my own.

Is that as fast as you can go? Get away from him, get away from that house.

I'm trying, Oh, my God, I'm trying. My legs feel like jelly and before I know it, I've fallen face down in the grass of my front yard.

You're so pathetic. And you're fat, too. I would've let you have one slice, but four? You're throwing that up.

A scream escapes my lips, but it isn't my scream. I don't know if it's Gordon's, I guess it might be. But it doesn't sound angry or scared, it sounds pained.

Stop pitying yourself, you're scared and pained.

I dig my fingers into the dirt, ripping up grass and feeling the earth settle under my nails. With my face still flush against the ground, I erupt in sobs.

Get up off the ground, and get the food out of your system. Now.

Against my free will, I obey, dragging myself up out of the sticky grass. I hear the hinges of the front door squeak and footsteps pounding towards me, but when I look over, I can barely make out my mother's blurry figure.

"Michael!" she gasps, but I don't want her pity. She reaches out for me, but I jerk away from her touch.

She makes you weak. You have to get the food out of your system, it makes you even weaker.

I push past my mother, running into the house. I trip up the stairs, and finally lock myself in the bathroom--the blinds are open, but I don't think much of it. Gordon is praising me, encouraging me, but I can barely hear him. I can't think, I can't focus.

I have to get the food out of my system.

Without a moment's hesitation, I grab my toothbrush off of the counter and fall to my knees in front of the toilet, cramming it as far down my throat as I can.

I choke and gag and retch, but the half-digested food comes up my throat and out of my body.

Good, Michael. I'm proud of you. I'm proud of you.

I ignore Gordon--though I am secretly excited that I made him proud--and flush the toilet, getting rid of the pizza for good. I collapse on the floor, a hand thrown over my now-empty stomach. About a minute later, my mum comes knocking.

"Michael?" she asks, opening the bathroom door.

You're lucky she's too late, you're too stupid to remember to lock it.

"Are you alright?"

I sit up, giving her a fake smile. "Just felt a little lightheaded, but I'm okay."

My mum looks at me, her expression a mixture of sympathy and suspicion. "Do you want me to get you any medicine?"

No. Not unless it's enough to overdose.

"I'm okay," I repeat, firmer this time.

"Okay..." she trails off. "How was Luke's?"

Yeah, Michael. How was Luke's?

"Shut up," I mumble to Gordon. I then return my attention to my mum. "It was fine."

She raises an eyebrow. "Just fine?" I nod. "Did you have fun?" I hesitate before answering her question with a nod. I did have fun, but Gordon ruined it.

Gordon always ruins it.

"Good!" She beams at me, and for some reason, it repulses me.

"You know what, Mum?" I say. "I think I do feel sick. I'm gonna lie down."

Her motherly instincts kick in and her face turns to one of concern. "Is there anything I can do for you, sweetie?"

I cringe at the pet name, and shake my head. "I'm fine." I stand up.

"Okay," she sighs warily, like she doesn't believe me. Smart woman. "Call me if you need anything, okay? I love you, Michael."

"Y-you too."

Weak.

I choke on the words, and Gordon reprimands me for it. With my eyes trained on the ground, I make my way to my room, and fall into my bed.

Once I'm safely under the covers with the door shut, I ask Gordon, "Why am I different?"

He snorts.

Clarify, please. The list could go on for miles.

"Like..." I trail off, struggling with my words. "Why am I the only weak one? Plenty of strong people eat and don't...hurt themselves. Why can't I be strong without hurting myself?"

It's a cruel world, Michael, and not a lot of people make it out alive. Survival of the fittest, you could call it. You have to be heartless and ruthless in order to be invincible, and you will not make it out alive if you are not invincible.

"I won't make it out alive if I accidentally kill myself," I point out, grateful that Gordon has calmed down.

You have to be able to tolerate pain, but you can't put others before yourself. You can't sacrifice your own happiness for the sake of those around you.

I interrupt, "I sacrifice my happiness every day for you."

But you shouldn't.

My jaw drops in disbelief. "You give me no choice!"

You aren't strong enough to make your own decisions. I'm helping you. All of those people who you claim to be strong without experiencing pain? They aren't strong, either.

I huff, upset with Gordon. "What are you saying?"

Neither one of you are strong, but the difference between you and them? They will never be.

-

A/N: I wrote this on my phone so sorry if it's ew?? Yeah idk. I have no idea where this story is going tbh but I'm muke af so I will continue to write it

ALSO IM PISSED AF BC AMERICAN BEAUTY/AMERICAN PSYCHO HASNT COME OUT YET ANYONE ELSE???? I HATE FALL OUT BOY jk wow I love them bye