My Wasteland (Lesbian Story)

Chapter Thirteen

Sara and I went to lunch. I couldn't really bring myself to eat so I ordered something really small. I ordered a small salad and water. She got a burger and a monster. She's so skinny. Not unhealthy skinny. Perfect skinny. I love her.

I knew how to make people think a actually ate by talking 97% and eating 3% of the time. She didn't notice my eating habits abut she did notice my arms. I don't have bandages and my sleeves keep lifting up slightly.

"Why..?" She looked sad.

"Why... Why what?" I felt anxiety rising in me. I thought she was going to say something about not liking me.

"Why do you do that to a perfect body?" My eating? She pointed discreetly towards my sleeve. Oooooohh, now I get it. Wait... I kinda don't. I'll sound insane if I tell her why.

"I... Ummmmmm" I couldn't tell her.

"I don't care what you say, I just want to help you feel better." She said in a shaky whisper. I relied on my voice to not crack while I told her.

"It... It umm... Comfort, release, safety. That all sounds so bad because it's uncomfortable physically, it only makes matters worse, it's not releasing anything, and it's not safe at all. I could seriously get hurt. I could die, yet I feel safe. It's stupid, and I sound insane... I'm sorry I'll just go..." I said and stood up to leave.

She didn't move. She just sat there. Looking emotionless but I could see tears forming in her eyes. I paid at the counter, told them thanks and said that she needed some time alone. They seemed to understand and I left. I didn't go back to the busses. Nope. I wasn't going back there for a while. I decided to call someone. She was usually awake at this time. She didn't really sleep but sometimes she forced herself to. She's bisexual so she knows what it's like to feel depressed (she's bullied pretty badly and she's my cousin). She has pink hair, Emo cut, and she always wore band shirts that were too big. She also wore vans, converse, and kind of black leather boot, toms, any colour skinny jean, sometimes ripped jeans, and tights with graphics on them. She super nice and she's really talkative and happy most of the time. But if she gets triggered it's usually a blowup because it doesn't happen often and she handles it in the worst way. She's recently thrown away all her blades and I'm extremely proud of her.

Her name?

Mikayla. She used to be my best friend but when she was ten her parents moved to the UK. We stayed in contact ever since. We talk almost everyday and she's always super supportive and helpful. She'd do perfect to help me.