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7. I t doesnt work like that

AN: POTENTIALLY TRIGGERING! Hey ^-^

so I tried to make it as little detailed at possible with Harry's room scene but it could be triggering still x

Sorry i haven't been publishing lately but wattpad is messing up and i can't publish or save any story's on my phone :/

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Telling someone with Anorexia to; just eat Is like stabbing someone and telling them to; stop bleeding.

It doesn't work like that, so Harry didn't see he point in being where he was. All they were doing was sticking a plate in front I him, did they expect him to just eat? He might as well be back at home. So as he sat at the table with the man who always say with him trying to persuade him to eat the foul looking food it all seemed pointless. He wasn't going to eat, that would mean he had no control. For he did have control, well that's what he told himself... Or more that's what she told him.

She as in Ana.

He knew his illness more as a friend and friends are people you trust, so that's what Harry did, he trusted her. But in reality the control was non-existent to him. In fact it was quite the opposite. He was being controlled. Controlled day in, day out by a little voice in his head. A voice tricked him to not think that, it tricked him to think he had the wheel and was stirring the way. So eating would break that illusion of control he thought he had, so eating just wasn't an option.

Giving up the man headed off, this time speaking with a woman. The same woman Harry had met when he arrived: the woman in the flowery blouse. Except now she was in a stripped vest top and a cardigan, Harry didn't like it that much. The blouse suited her more. But that wasn't the important thing. What was import at were the words the man was telling her. And Louis heard them as he stopped outside the canteen door, late for lunch.

The man looked at him on his way out but did nothing, leaving Louis to get his lunch and find Harry. "Hope you like tubes" he blurted out, startling Harry a bit.

"Wha- why?" He muttered

"Because soon one is going to be shoved down your throat and into your stomach" Louis' words were harsh but he was just worried for the young boy. He didn't want to lose him, he couldn't. And the words didn't mean to come out so harsh, they were just full of fear for the thin boy.His feelings over the weeks had just got stronger. All the years he spent trying to force himself not to think like that was all going to waste as he couldn't stop thinking about Harry. In a way he was making Louis worse, at the same time as making him better. Here there weren't any boys to tease him and mock him and throw him in a ditch because of his feelings, so aslong as no-one found out he felt okay about it.

Harry gulped "your just tying to scare me"

Louis nodded "yes, I am. Because maybe that will get you to put some god damn food in your mouth." He hissed.

"If I wanted to eat I could" Harry stated adamantly.

Louis scoffed, mumbling words not loud enough to hear.

"I could" Harry said, staring at the food he had no intention of touching. "I'm just not hungry"

"Bullshit!" Louis exclaimed "your always hungry" Harry winced a little and kept back the threatening tears. "You can always work it off" Louis tried, but Harry shook his head.

"They banned me from the gym, and any exercise for that matter, I'm on 5 hour watch after eating" "Maybe it's for the better" Louis sighed and shook his head, getting up to leave.

He passed the man on the way out, who headed back to Harry. Harry's heart began to pace as he knew what was going to happen. It always happened. The man wouldn't leave, or let Harry leave until half the plate at least was gone. But Harry wasn't having it today.

The man kept pushing at him but he couldn't take it. Standing up he threw the plate across the room and legged it. Round and round the corridors, the lights dimming and voices applauding in his head, drowning out the sound of his grumbling stomach. He found his room and shut the door. His head fell onto his knees and the tears fell down.

"I could if I wanted to, I could if I wanted to" he kept repeating to himself.

Then he remembered.

The bar Louis had given him, along with all the others that had piled up over the weeks, hidden under his mattress. The voice which had been cheering where now screaming at him to not do it. But his stomach was screaming back and his willpower was fading away. His hand reached down, under the mattress and pulled out a bar.

No no no no no no no no-

He took a bite. The voices stopped. But now he couldn't. One bite turned into one bar. one bar turned into three. Before he knew it only one was left, and 7 wrappers lay on the floor. His hand clutched his stomach and the guilt trickled in before flooding his thoughts. Pacing back and forth he panicked and cried and screamed.

The bin bag he carried with him here lay under his bed. It was the only way he thought. Quickly he grabbed it and opened the top wide before sticking his head in. Taking a deep breath he kept going until everything was out and only stomach acid remained. Slowly the tears began to fall and he hid his head in his knees, rocking back and forth. His throat was sore and he regretted everything. In the back I his mind he knew he was sick, he knew he needed help. But he wouldn't ask for it. And that's the problem. You can't help someone with a mental disorder until they ask for help. You can't force them to do anything, you can't persuade them, you can't pretend everything's going to be alright. Because it just doesn't work like that.