Chew ✔

•17•

"No." My dad says his voice thick with tears. "This is not my son over here."

Thanks dad, I feel loads better.

"Did you want to look better?" My dad asks awkwardly, "I mean was it for the looks- you've always been a good looking-"

"-stop." I say, a panicky feeling fluttering in my chest. "No dad- I didn't do this because I fucking wanted to look good."

"Than what for, and don't say you don't know- cause that's bullshit- and you know it."

I glare at him with beady eyes. It was the same question over, and over, and over, and over, and over. They all wanted to know was why, why I did it, why I didn't tell them, why did I let it get so bad.

"When did it start?" My dad asks after a heavy period of silence. Wheres mom with the fucking water?

"I'm not a fucking timeline dad."

"Please."

I sigh, "Summer I guess. Our team was practicing for our football season- and we played a match against Ashton High for fun." My hands start to shake. "I was so off my game- and you were there. I was so embarrassed and ashamed- and disgusted. So I told myself I would get better- be better."

"But you improved your game." My dad says heavily. "Why didn't you stop."

"Because it stopped being about the game." I snap. "No matter how good I played, no matter how much weight I lost- I still wasn't enough. I wanted to be perfect- I needed to be perfect. I needed football, because it was the only thing going for me, I had to make my team proud, and you proud- and you have never been proud of me.."

"I had to be dying before you noticed me."

My father sputter in shock before I watch him break down in front of me, each of his sobs filled with agony and heartbreak. The person who had told me men don't cry- sobbed in front off me.

No... this was not my fathers fault. Why was I blaming it all on him.

I stiffen- closing my eyes because I couldn't bear to see him hurt like this.

"I'm sorry." He chokes.

"No I am."

He grips onto my shoulder, tears spilling from his eyes.

"I love you son, and you are enough. You've always been enough."

He pulls me into a embrace, and for the first time since I've entered this damn hospital- a part of me inside me breaks until I'm sobbing uncontrollably against my dad. My entire body shakes, and tears flow from my eyes like rivers. All the emotions I've kept so locked in- finally free themselves from the bounds of my body- and for the first time in forever.

I can breathe.

"I'm so proud of you- I've always been." My dad whispers into my ear, his arms still clutched around me. "I will be here this time, I promise."

And than suddenly it feels as if the entire world has been lifted off my shoulders, I'm no longer Atlas- I am free.

I can be free from this. And I will.

...

"This is your room." Dr.Reese says, swinging a white door open- revealing a modest room with two beds a bean bag, and two desks.

I walk inside hesitantly my moms hand keeping a steady grip on my shoulder the entire time.

I set down my bags, and look back at my dad.

He smiles warmly.

Two weeks ago I had a feeding tube, I could barely walk, and I couldn't eat. And now here I was.

Today was my first day at Saint Josephs Hospital's, Eating Disorder rehabilitation center- and I would be lying if I said I wasn't nervous- I was- but I was also hopeful.

I wanted to be better again- I knew it was going to be hard- But I wanted to be home, and out in the field so badly- I was practically prepared to do almost anything.

I noticed one side of the room was obviously occupied, with rumpled sheets, and a few posters hung loosely near the bed.

"Where's my roommate?" I say.

"At the mess hall eating lunch- He'll be here soon." Dr.Reese says, and almost as if on cue, the door opens, and a boy with curly brown hair and dark skin enters the room.

"Hey." He says peering in shyly. "I'm García . Your roommate."

I smile and shake his hand. I realize we both have the same hollowed eyes and cheeks.

"I guess this is where we leave." My mom sniffles, I'm scared she's gonna cry again. Shes cried enough to last a life time the past few weeks.

I pull her into a hug, resting my chin on top of her hair.

"Good luck Babe." She whispers. "Your gonna get better- I just know it."

I give my dad a shaky hug as well- and soon they're escorted outside by Dr.Reese.

"So, how long have you been in here?" I ask, pulling a pillow out off my bag. Liam jumps back onto his bed stretching out his limbs.

"A month." He says, "Its not so bad here. Just gotta get used to it. So what are you in here for?"

I take a shaky breath- I haven't been open about my ED yet- and this just feels so, weird, but I hear myself respond. "Anorexia and Bulimia."

"Ahh, your an overachiever." Liam chuckles deeply. "I'm here for Bulimia but also sorta for self harm."

I raise an eyebrow- self harm as in, cutting?

He notices my confused expression before pulling up his sleeves to reveal dozens of thick and thin white scars. They pop out against his dark skin.

"Kinda something I started doing when I realized throwing up couldn't be my release anymore."

I nod, sounds pretty reasonable actually.

"Don't know how I'm gonna hide them when I start wrestling again though."

"You wrestle?" I ask intrigued.

"Yeah" Liam says, "Varsity. Kinda how I ended up here. Making weight and shit."

"I play football." I say putting away some of the things in my bag. "Wanted to be stronger and shit. That failed. Drastically."

He grins widely.

"Okay- so we have like a good hour before group- so if we leave now I think the playstation may still open."

"Fort nite?"

"Mhm."

And that is how Liam and I became friends.