⚠ May be triggering (binging/purging). Please be careful, do not read if you're easily triggered by this kind of subject. ⚠
August 13th
When it had first happened, it was a week ago, Louis was home alone once again. The whole family was at a theme park and would stayed overnight and would only come the next evening while Louis had stayed home. He was laying in his bed and his stomach was hurting, he hadn't eaten anything in three days, drank a lot of water, he read online it would make it seem like he had eaten. He hated himself for making such research. He was pathetic, felt pathetic. This whole situation was becoming so ridiculous he couldn't look at himself in the mirror anymore, he would turn the light off while taking a shower which resulted with some bruises on his knees and elbows. He couldn't describe how it felt each time he would see his reflection. When he laid his eyes on his thighs while walking upstairs, he would only notice how the fat on his upper thighs would jiggle each time he climbed another step. If he ran downstairs, he would notice his butt moving and the fat around his stomach bouncing over his abs. When he brushed his teeth, he would see his double chin and look away from the mirror. If he ate something, he would go to his room and stare at the mirror, in his boxer while whispering to his reflection how ugly he was. He would list all the disgusting features. He would punch his stomach sometimes, punch his thighs like he could pack the fat and make it disappear under his pale skin.
The reflection was a lie though. The biggest lie. The sketches he had made of his "fat" body to remind himself how "disgusting" he was were lies as well. He was so far from being the person drawn in the mirror. The fact he had to change belt for a tighter one hadn't opened his eyes on reality nor the fact his previously tight shirts were now floating over his skin. His tan and glowing skin was now pale and drab. His big and expressive blue eyes were now subdued and bloodshot. His lips were more bluish than pinkish. His hair was thinner and it wasn't shinning anymore. His body had changed massively. When he laid down, his stomach would grow hollow between his hip bones and ribs, almost like an empty lake. The veins over his hands and wrist were more visible than ever and his skin seemed almost see-through. His ordinarily attractive prominent cheekbones were now scary. He was cold, freezing and shuddering under his covers every night.
But that one night, it was different. He was cold but his stomach was keeping him awake, his stomach had been begging him for food for hours and he didn't manage to sleep. It was around 4am. He didn't want to call Harry at such an hour like they were used to. So after he had tried to walk around the house for 20 minutes he ended up in the kitchen, sitting on the counter and staring at the fridge. He was cracking his knuckles and swinging his legs. He had rubbed his hands over his face, trying to convince him not to do such a thing. Trying to convince him he was not hungry. It wasn't hunger. He was fine. He should just go back to sleep. But he didn't. He had jumped on his feet before walking up to the fridge slowly, he had opened it and the light had hit his face. He had looked up and down. Yoghurt, cheese, cooked meats, soda, some pieces of cake his mum had cooked the day before. Nothing he should eat. But strangely, as he was still trying to convince himself how bad it was, his hand had grabbed the plate with the cake and he had smashed the door closed before sitting at the counter with a knife and fork. He had cut a small piece and had slid it into his mouth, closing his eyes as he let it drop down his throat, slowly, he wasn't chewing so much, wasn't cutting the cake, he was simply biting violently and swallowing quickly. He hadn't stopped though when the plate was empty. He had opened the cupboard's doors, grabbing the peanut butter jar, some cookies packs and crisps bags. He had scattered them on the counter, he had drank soda and bottles of water as he had let everything roll down his throat to fall in his stomach until it was hurting. Hurting and so uncomfortable. Until he had jumped back into reality as his taut and heavy stomach was pressing against his cold skin under his shirt, pushing against the fabric. He had grimaced from pain as he had pulled up his shirt, his fingers greasy and covered with chocolate, salt and other crumbs he was now disgusted by. His skin was tense and when he had pressed gently on the small bump between his ribs and belly button, he had felt his throat burn. Warm tears had started rolling down his cheeks and realisation had hit him violently. He had just eaten, not just some snack, he had emptied the cupboard to fill his stomach with whatever it contained. The pain was horrendous. He could barely breathe, like his lungs were pushing against his already overflowing stomach. Louis would never be able to describe how it felt as he was sitting in the darkness of the kitchen, his hands covered with the food he had just swallowed, his cheeks covered with tears. His chest was heavy, like the heaviest anvil was crashing his sternum and ribs. But it was the weight of guilt and hate pressing onto his heart. He had pulled on his hair before running up the stairs, a trembling hand over his stomach as it was threatening to explode. When Louis had collapsed in front of the toilet, his heart had started beating faster. He didn't know if it was from the pain on his stomach, the pain of guilt, shame and hate or the fear of what was to come. His fingers were trembling before he had knelt and leaned over the toilet bowl and slid his index and middle fingers into his mouth. That night, the only little shining star left in the bottom of his soul had turned off. There was no Harry, no mum, no Zayn or Liam. He was alone. Alone facing one of the most painful and shameful thing he had ever done. He had never thought he could hate himself more than he was already, but he was wrong. So wrong. Because when he woke up, he couldn't find any reason to wake up and keep on living. Because when Harry showed up the next day, his blindness wasn't something to reassure him anymore and he ran away from his touch and kisses, until the boy left. Because there weren't anything that could bring him to smile anymore, the sky seemed colourless and it couldn't warm his heart anymore. His head and throat hurt and he couldn't find a reason to explain why he was still alive anymore.
It was past midnight when they had landed in Funchal after a – late – 4 hours long flight from London to Madeira. 4 hours during which he held Lottie's head on his shoulder and let Phoebe try some ridiculous hairstyles on his short rebellious hair. They had to pay two taxis to drive them to Caniço. Lottie and Johannah had planned those holidays for several months. They had always loved travels, no matter where it was as long as it was sunny and lovely. They had travelled to LA, West Palm Beach, Barcelona and other heavenly places. They were used to always come back with beautiful memories. This year was a bit different for Louis. He had changed. He used to have a lot of fun, spending hours with Lottie on the beach, Félicité hadn't been allowed to stay alone with them until this year and needless to say she couldn't wait. Johannah had a hard time accepting the fact her children were growing up so fast. Strangely, it had been easier to accept when it happened to Louis, he had taken responsibilities really early. He had wanted to take care of his siblings as soon as his mother were back from the hospital. It happened with all of them. Louis was the older child, she knew he was an adult and she had been treating him as an adult when he had turned 15. Right now, Louis just wanted to be a child again, back to his innocent years when he didn't know what real life was. How hard and ugly it could be. How painful it could get to try and go through life. When there were no harder times than having your sand castle crashed by your little sister or your ice lolly melting all over your fingers before you could finish it. Sometimes he would think back to those times and feel bad about how much his innocence had been destroyed with pain and self-hate. Wondering what could have happened for him to go from the happiest little boy to someone crawling in the mud, stitching the wounds over his heart with barbered wire.
He threw his phone on the bed after sending a text to Harry to tell him he arrived, just like the younger boy had asked – demanded – him. Doris and Ernest were both asleep in their bed. Louis didn't mind sharing his room with the toddlers. Lottie would share hers with Phoebe as Félicité would be with Daisy. He sighed when laying down on his bed, he didn't even want to be there. He had seen pictures of Caniço online, he knew it would be beautiful. The villa they were renting for the next ten days was breathtaking and he felt really ungrateful for feeling that way while he was sleeping in a king size bed near the beach. But he didn't want to wear less clothes, shorts and T-shirts. He was far from feeling okay with the idea of people seeing his body, no matter if it was his legs or arms. He felt disgusted enough by his reflection, he wouldn't stand the tint of disappointment in his family's eyes. His phone's screen lighted up, signalling a new message from Harry. Secretly, Louis wished Harry was asleep when they would land in Madeira, that he wouldn't get a respond. He had tried to avoid Harry a bit recently. When he would try and hug him, Louis would simply move away, when he would want to kiss him, Louis would start talking. He liked Harry, a lot, he was great, amazing, a gold-hearted human being, and that was the problem. With Harry being such a perfect person, Louis felt disgusting. Inside, it seemed like a joke. They looked like a joke. Harry was Adonis and Louis felt like the wild boar about to kill him. Dangerous and repulsive. How could he make Harry proud of being seen around someone like Louis? Louis answered quickly before wrapping the covers around his body.
He stayed up until late, turning around over and over again in his bed, listening to his youngest siblings' breathing. There was some strange feeling buried deep in his body, something he couldn't really explain with words. Something new, uncomfortable. He felt empty, so empty that even the pain seemed to be gone. He was looking at the dark ceiling, his face wasn't holding any expression. He pressed his palm against his chest, the imaginary anvil was still there, crashing his rib cage and squashing his heart. But apart from that uncomfortable constant feeling, it was different, almost scary. When you feel pain, you can still feel joy. Sadness can lead to some unbearable pain, being filled with such pain prove you're still alive and proves you can still end up feeling happiness. Emptiness is emptiness. The absence of feelings, of sorrow means something way darker. If you're not able to feel the deepest hurtful mental emotions, how are you supposed to feel the pleasurable ones? Joy, happiness, pride, all of those seemed suddenly impossible to reach for Louis. It kept him awake a long time, several hours, so long that he noticed the sunbeams sneaking through the shutters when he finally fell asleep.
It was 1am the next day when Louis' phone buzzed loudly on the little metallic table next to the sun lounger he was laying on next to the pool. He had been laying in the darkness for a while now, his family was asleep after the long exhausting day they had spent visiting the city. Louis sighed loudly before bringing the phone to his ear as Harry's deep voice crashed against his eardrum. He closed his eyes.
"Hi!" Louis responded slowly.
He wondered if Harry could guess he didn't want to talk with the tone in his voice. He wanted to lay there, doing nothing but looking at the dark sky filled with shining tiny stars and the moon, high and full. He wanted to join them up there, it seemed calm and strangely comfortable, he would dance with them all night until he would have to go back to earth as the sun would take its place back. He felt almost non-existent, invisible under this infinity of stars. He was the less interesting speck of dust in the universe. Annoying and ugly on that beautiful breathtaking planet, just as dirt on De Vinci's Mona Lisa painting. It didn't feel right here anymore, he didn't fit in anymore, was he too different? Or was it just the world that didn't want him among its inhabitants. Those who just walked around, minding their on business. Maybe Louis was just too heavy for Earth.
"How are you today?" Harry asked.
Louis didn't seem to notice the concern in the boy's voice. Harry always asked, like everyone, everyday, and it didn't seem more important in his mouth than in anyone else's. Everybody ask how you are, do they want you to answer honestly? Do they really want you to ramble about the pain in your chest, the tears you're fighting back, the tiredness of your body? Do they really want to know or do they ask to be polite? Louis knew it was the second option, and he didn't think it was different for Harry. But it was. It was the opposite of being polite. He wanted to know, to listen to Louis telling him how he truly felt deep down. He didn't want him to hide the truth anymore. He wasn't blind enough not be able to hear Louis' trembling voice when he fought back the tears, struggling not to let them drop on his cheeks. Not to feel his wet cold hands when he was anxious about hiding who he really was. And Harry didn't want him to fake anything, but would Louis ever understand that he didn't need to be someone else around him? Harry liked him the way he was, so small but so strong. He didn't really know what brought Louis to be how he was, how broken he was. Because the older boy could smile and laugh as loud as he could, he wouldn't trick him. He noticed the way Louis wiggled uncomfortably under his hands and how he seemed like he needed to jump away from his touch. He wanted Louis to trust him.
"Good, how about you?"
Harry silently sighed, biting down on his bottom lip, chewing for a while until he answered. He wanted to take care of him, hold him tight when he broke down so he could have some shoulders to cry on. Bring him tea and putting Grease on TV to cheer him up a bit. Wrapping his arms around him to warm his freezing body. Harry wished he had the power to take some pain away, or whatever Louis felt inside. He wanted to lighten his shoulders that were slouched by heavy burdens. Taking off every weight that was dragging his body down in the quicksand that was swallowing all of body and drowning his soul into sticky mud. He wanted to save him from whatever monsters and demons hidden in the dark of his mind.
They talked for a little while, Harry did most of the talk though, doing his best to ask questions and hear Louis' voice. It was hard, almost painful when the older boy was simply brushing away the question, or using only one word as an answer. The reflection of the moon was making the clear water of the pool shine.
"Lou?" a feminine voice whispered in the dark.
When the young boy looked up and saw his mother wrapped into a long shawl, he hang up without warning Harry. She walked closer to her son and sat down on the chair next to his.
"It's late, why are you here, honey?" she asked softly.
Her voice was always as soft as a melody. He wondered what she would say, how she would react if right now he would tell her the truth. All the truth, the deep dark heavy feeling crashing his heart sometimes, the almost constant need to disappear of the universe, just fly away really far and high to never come back. What she would say if she knew he kissed a boy, liked a boy, was secretly dating the boy she allowed to sleep at her house. Would she be disgusted and tell him he wasn't her son anymore, tell his siblings not to talk to him anymore. He really wondered how it would happen but he didn't want to find out yet, he didn't want to listen to her melodic voice yell at him for being a bad, disgusting son.
"I just couldn't sleep."
It wasn't fully a lie. Just maybe half the truth. It was hurting to realise how good he became at lying, how good of an actor he was now. Johannah sighed softly, under the poor lighting of the full moon, Louis' dark circles surrounding his beautiful blue eyes looked darker, almost like he got punched in the face. Johannah hadn't shared a real conversation with her son for a while, maybe growing up was the cause of it.
"Louis, you would tell me if something was wrong, right?" she asked with concern, covering the back of his hand with her palm.
"Of course I would mum!" he lied, raising his eyebrows.
She smiled gently, every single one of her smiles, even the tiniest, was lightening her whole face in a sudden. She grabbed his hand and held it in her palm, stroking the back of his hand with her thumb slowly. She wondered where all the years were gone, why everything had happened so quickly that now she was sitting next to a man, her baby was still there, she knew it. Even when he would be 50, he would still be her baby, but he grew up so quickly, in a blink of an eye he became a man.
"You know no matter how old you are, you'll always be able to tell me anything you want, honey."
She smiled and brushed her fingers against his pale cheek softly.
"It doesn't matter if you're an adult, you know that I am here for you, and I'll always be. You are my child before being a man!"
Louis looked down, lately, he didn't really felt like he was anything to anyone. He felt invisible. His mother had things to do, as well as his siblings had things to do. And he had hidden in his room for a while, away from voices and eyes. He didn't want to disgust people, he already disgusted himself way too much.
"You're a beautiful person Louis, and I am so proud of you, I couldn't be more proud of you than I already I am. You make me the happiest mother in the whole world!"
Louis clenched his teeth, trying the best he could not to let the salty tears stream down his face. He wasn't a beautiful person, and when she would realise, she wouldn't be so proud of him anymore. He felt like a monster, inhuman. He shouldn't be there, sitting in such a beautiful place with a mother as amazing as Johannah. He shouldn't be lucky enough to have incredible siblings. He shouldn't be given such great friends. Other people needed and deserved it so much more than him. He felt like he didn't deserve more than dirt and dust. He didn't deserve the oxygen feeding his lungs, the water hydrating his body, the sun warming him up, the roof covering his head from the rain.
☼☼ 3 462 words ☼☼
Hi there! How are you today? Good I hope, and safe!
I will try and make this ramble shorter than the previous ones! I am going to start by saying that if you suffer from any eating disorder, or if you feel like what you're going through do not feel right, please talk about it to someone, please. I know it may not be easy, and it may seem like you're going to be judged, but you won't. There are people out there willing to help you go through this hard time and make you stand on your feet stronger than ever. Talking to people, get some of the heavy burden out of your chest will always help a bit. Do not let yourself drown in your pain or problems, you're strong, all of you are. No matter if you don't see it, you are, I believe in you, you can beat those asses ♥
Thank you, all of you who are reading this ! Thanks !
Take care of you, always ♥
-Lisa-