Britain wasn't always fat.
July 3, 2012
A 13 year old Britain was running around on the play ground. He was currently enjoying himself, despite being shunned by most kids. He didn't have many friends, and he sometimes enjoyed it. But he sometimes hated the ostracism, especially since most kids found his peculiar ways strange.
Britain loved cartoons, especially old ones. He'd spend all day watching Boomerang just to watch the comical misadventures of Scooby Doo and the patriarchal attitudes of Fred Flintstone and George Jetson. Britain would often take these things to heart, his mind not fully taking in the cartoonish and fictional actions of his cartoon idols.
Britain could often be found imitating the expressions of these animated figures, using phrases like "Ooba Dooba" and "Wilma!!!", when he was frustrated. But his favorite was Zoinks!!!, quoted after Scooby-Doo and Velma. Britain could often be found trying to imitate how they ran, spoke, and behaved, his actions being comical and fun in his eyes.
Britain was in his own world, playing, and running.
Yes, running. Britain hadn't yet packed on the pounds of his teenage years. His belly generally flat, maybe a little bloated from what he ate, but generally still slim. Britain continued running and becoming lost in his own world, when he was hit with a rock.
"Ow! Who threw that?!" Britain scanned the area with his glass covered eyes, his glasses providing the perfect view of.... nothing. But his ears picked up snickers. High pitched snickers. Once they died down he turned back to what he was doing, only to be hit with an even larger stone.
"Staaaaaahp!!!", Britain yelled. But his yell was only received with another rock to the head. When he turned around, he found someone bigger than him who pushed him from his standing position, forcing his glasses to fall off of his face.
"Whatchu' you doin' over here, man?" A boy who was bigger than him posed the question to the now sight impaired Britain. He was bigger than him, obviously not friendly towards people who watched cartoons, and he looked older than him.
"I w-was just playing".
"That wasn't playing, you was ova' here bein' and lih punk. You a punk, ain't you?"
"N-No I'm not".
"Yea, whatever, you can't even say it without stutterin'. Britain hated confrontation, which cause him to stutter a lot, as his mind was moving faster than his mouth could.
"L-Leave me alone, I just like c-cartoons".
"Oh you like cartoons, which ones, pussy boy".
"Oh, Scooby-Doo, The Jetsons, The Fint"-
Instead of a positive response, Britain was met with a torrent of rocks that were repeatedly thrown at him, hitting him repeatedly. Britain could only plead with him to stop, as the boy repeatedly threw rocks and stones at him.
"Hey! Stop".
"Stop it, now!"
"Staaaaahp, please?!"
Britain's pleas for mercy were only met with more rocks as he realized that more boys had joined in with the boy, pelting him with more and more rocks. Eventually his initial antagonist stepped up and picked up jus glasses, chucking them far away.
When they were finished, Britain was trying to hold back his tears, on the ground, not understanding what he'd done wrong. He sat there trying to recollect himself, letting tears fall until he realized that his glasses were missing.
His mother was going to kill him! She hated it when he lost or broke his glasses, usually yelling at him because of his irresponsibility. Britain began to desperately look for them, despite being essentially blind and his aching body from his pelting.
Britain searched desperately until he heard a loud crunch under his feet. Britain began to hold back the once again, bending down and picking up his now bended, twisted, and contorted glasses.
Presently
That's why Britain had begun to become to heavy. Food became consolation. Food didn't hurt him. Food wouldn't make fun of him, food wouldn't pelt him with rocks. Food tasted good. It made him feel good and full, what could possibly be wrong with food. Especially chocolate. Britain loved chocolate. By the time he turned 16, his love of food had caught up with him. By the time he'd tried to change it, it'd become a rather daunting task.
Britain now found that people had something else to make fun of him for; his nearly 250 pound gait . Britain could no longer run and play as he wished, being far to heavy, or at least he thought so. His tendency to stay to himself was further exacerbated by his alienation and ridicule.
And here he was, silently wiping away the tears that he always repressed. How could he have convinced himself that he was good enough for her?
He was too fat.
He was hideous
He was weird.
All the things that he thought about himself were confirmed by her outburst three days prior. He knew that he couldn't have possibly gotten her affection. But the reason he was hurt because of how was in general for the most part. See Alex became annoyed more often than not when he failed to show emotion in situations which he have, and had come to the conclusion that he lacked them all together. But she was farther from the truth than Brazil is from the Arctic Circle.
He actually did feel emotions and was able to show them, he just didn't know how. It was almost as if he had to learn emotions. But he could feel them with a marked intensity, in which some cases he could shut down because of how intensely he felt them. This also applied to words. Words that were spoken to him were felt to the core, even if the were said in jest. So one could imagine what he'd felt the other day.
Speaking of Alex, he hadn't seen her in three days. He pointedly avoided her. She'd damaged the bond that existed between them, so why should he talk to her? How was he going to forgive her? Why should he forgive her?!
Britain avoided her at all costs. Whenever they spotted each other, he bolted in the other direction, despite her pleas. Desperate pleas. Emotional pleas. Pleas that held a recognizable hurt behind them.
Alex repeatedly tried to call and text him. She only received ignored FaceTime calls and messages that were immediately left on read. During that time Britain had simply been trying to calm down so that wouldn't say or do anything that would be hurtful or just plain rude.
Alexandra
Alex was really depressed
She was distraught. Britain had been ignoring and avoiding her for the last three days. She'd ignored the pleas of her stomach for the last 36 hours, barely eating and only worrying about the 18 year old that her mouth and temper had deeply wounded.
She'd been to the tree again. She'd alternated between punching and crying. Crying and punching. She was pretty sure her hand was infected. She was also too hungry to do anything anymore. But she didn't care. She wished she would've just listened to him instead of lashing out.
He'd dismantled her hard exterior, which she constantly found annoying, but pleasant. She liked the fact that he'd made the effort to understand and sympathize with her,and he was repaid with insults. And he was the only one who she wanted to put up with.
Alex was depressed.
It'd been a while since she'd actually eaten properly, which is why she also felt crappy. And those days corresponded with the amount of time that'd gone by without, seeing the guy she'd taken a strong liking to. Seven days since she'd seen Britain. Her hand was swollen, puss leaking out of the now surely infected hand.
She sat there, slumped against a wall as she stared into space, wondering why she opened her big mouth. She couldn't even cry anymore, she was now numb to the pain her body was going through. She only wanted to hear his voice. All she wanted was to see his face.
All she wanted was to hold him again.
Actually, all she wanted was one FaceTime call. One. Just to know that he was okay. Just to know she hadn't done too much damage.
Britain
Britain's phone was ringing.
It was a FaceTime call. And the name made him frown. He hadn't spoken to Alex in almost a week, and he was still quite upset. She knew he didn't like it when people talked about his insecurities, so why'd she do it? Why'd she hurt him like that?
Britain frowned. It could've been because of her temper. Was it because of her emotional issues? Had she taken her medicine that day? Britain looked in perspective and now thought that the length of time he'd gone without speaking to her was kind of extreme, and that might've been because of his own sensitivities. Regardless of those factors, Britain was still kinda pissed off.
As the phone rang, his Britain felt a rather warm, almost hot sensation make its presence known in his head. For the last seven days he'd been anxious. Whenever Britain's anxiety came over him, and sort of burning sensation would rise in his head and he wouldn't feel the best, and this past week had been filled with a lot of that. Right now he was eating a snack trying to calm himself as the burning sensation took over. He generally ate more unhealthily when this happened, as the burnout from these incidents resulted in his brain going on automatic mode.
Speaking of food, he wondered if Alex had been eating enough. He knew if he didn't get her food or make it himself, she'd complain that she was hungry. He wondered if she'd taken her medicine. He knew her temper flared a lot more and a lot worse if she didn't take. He wondered if she'd gone to class. He knew if didn't make her she'd stay in bed or go workout all day.
He'd also been praying and reading the word more. Britain found that Yah was one that could take on all of his burdens, and that if he put his trust in Him, then he would be fine. That if he made Yah his refuge, nothing would be able to overcome him.
"Dalet I sought יהוה, and He answered me, And delivered me from all my fears."
Tehillim (Psalms) 34:4 TS2009
"Tet Oh, taste and see that יהוה is good; Blessed is the man that takes refuge in Him!"
Tehillim (Psalms) 34:8 TS2009
Britain was certain that this was better than unhealthy copping mechanisms like smoking, drinking, or eating, and he wanted Alex to taste this too. That's what he was gonna tell her the other day.
Britain decided that he wanted to see her again, despite his sadness and hostility. When he answered the phone, she looked horrible.
Her hair was a tangled mess, far from the neat ponytail or mass of curls that tumbled down her back and covered part of her face. Her eyes had dark circle and bags under them, as if she been worrying excessively. She looked as if talking to him was some sort of relief to her.
"Hey B". Alex's voice was weak, confirming his theory of her exhaustion.
"Hi" was his short reply. Just because he'd answered didn't mean that her words hadn't hurt.
"B, please come back, I want you to come back."
Alex's responses were weak, sounding like she was in desperate need of help.
"Why, I thought you wanted to hit me?l
"Baby I'm sorry for what I said, can you just please come"-
Alex's sentence was cut short by a loud growl, the phone vibrating from the pleas of the starving stomach it was propped up on.
"Alex what was that?"
"Sorry, I'm just really, hng, hungry". She visibly cringed as her empty belly roared angrily at her for not giving it food for at least a few days.
"Alex when was the last time you ate?"
"I don't know, a day or two, maybe three", came the delayed response, to his great annoyance because she would do things like that if he didn't remind her. Despite the amount she would usually eat, sometimes if something was on her mind or if she was upset, she would forget to do the necessities.
"Why haven't you Alex?", a now concerned tone replacing the hostile one.
"I miss you."
"Huhh, I'm coming over".
Britain quickly put on his shoes as he rushed over to Alex's room. He couldn't believe she hadn't eaten in a week. Only God knows what else she neglected or forgot to do.
.......
Britain walked up to Alex's door, finding it unlocked to the world. There he found Alex, slumped up on a wall, looking like she wanted to die.
"Alex, Alex look at me". Alex slowly lifted up her eyes, and smiled when she saw him".
"Hey B". When she said that, he could tell that she hadn't brushed her teeth today. She was also sweaty, evidence of having done something strenuous, and Britain could guess what that possibly was. But she needed to get up from the spot she was in. Britain quickly began to work, trying to lift her up when he noticed her left hand. It looked horrible. Splinters and a few chunks of wood jutted out of it, profusely leaking clear puss.
"Aleeex, What happened to your hand?!?"
"I was punching the tree again", a confirmation of his previous suspicions
"Oh my goodness, come on, you gotta get to a hospital".
As he tried to lift her heavy frame, she doubled over as her intense hunger prevented her from moving. She moaned out loud as she was about kill over from lack of food. Britain darted for the kitchen and found one of the very few things she had. A twinky.
Alex scarfed it down like it was insignificant, her stomach demanding more. Britain prayed that it would hold her off until she got to the hospital. Britain had to basically drag her heavy, rather bulky frame out of the door.
Britain was lucky that she'd taught him the basics of driving or he would've crashed on the way there. Britain dragged her from the parking lot to the front desk, still far too weak to stand up on her own.
Excuse me, I think my girlfriend has infection, her hand is severely swollen". Britain held up the hand to the nurse, who recoiled in panic. They quickly rushed her to a room were they started to work on her severely swollen hand.
.......
Britain was relieved.
Alex had gotten all of the wood taken out of her hand, and the doctors were currently wrapping it up.
"Alex you're lucky they didn't have to amputate your hand, or even your whole arm". Alex just nodded as she sat on the doctors bed, her hand having been treated and currently being wrapped up.
"Alright she just has to take these antibiotics for about the next week and half. If it doesn't get better come back within a week. Other than that she should be fine. Oh, and be sure that she eats something. She's been asking for food for the last few hours. At the suggestion of eating, Alex's stomach gave a loud, eager response.
"Don't worry I'll make sure".
Britain grabbed her good hand and dragged out to the car. Alex was still pretty weak, and she needed food. ASAP.
"Alex, where's your wallet?" Alex dug into the arm rest between them and fished out a wallet. They soon began driving to multiple food places, Britain knowing how much she was gonna need. Soon her entire backseat was filled with food, 'cause Britain knew she wouldn't go buy stuff for the week.
When they got to her dorm, Alex tried to dart for her food, only to yanked back by Britain, who was surprised he could even move her large frame. Alex grunted a little annoyed.
"Shut up, you need to shower".
Britain started running her shower, helping her undress and step in the shower. He sat on the counter waiting for as she took a long shower. When Alex finally stepped out, she finally smelled like her old self again. She eagerly dressed as she couldn't wait to eat, Britain finally being back with her put her in a better mood.
Alex quickly took all of what she'd . Britain took this as cue to leave, trying to walk away before being yanked back on the bed.
"Stay".
"No".
"Why not".
"Eat".
"If you stay".
"Huuuh, fine".
Alex let him go hesitantly, waiting expectantly until he sat back down on the bed, happily beginning to eat when she saw that he wasn't going anywhere. Britain was kinda happy when he saw this. He was just happy she'd stopped starving herself. Why'd she do that in the first place?
Britain continued to watch as she happily ate, looking pleased when she finally finished. They stayed like that for a while, Britain occasionally allowing her to play with his twists as she tried to come down from the exhausting ordeal which had taken place over the last few days. Britain's thoughts were interrupted when a thick belch rung the insides of his ears.
"Pig", was all Britain could say.
But Alex didn't care. She rubbed her full stomach, glad that she was full and glad that her Hershey Kiss was sitting beside her. Alex tried to lay down, looking at Britain with a plead tone not to leave, seeing as he was grabbing his backpack, an indication of his intent to leave.
"I'm gonna sleep on the floor." Alex let out a heavy sigh of disappointment and defeat, but Britain was still waiting until he got married, and sleeping in the same bed was rather counterintuitive to this enterprise. He was still trying to Yah, and he couldn't just fold because of this.
Britain wasn't sure what to think. Alex wasn't on the verge of death anymore, but it still didn't excuse her words. Britain decided to forgive her a few days ago, but they still needed to have a conversation. A very long one.
Britain looked at Alex now sleeping after days of staying up awake. He could she her sleeping like a log after so being up for so long, and this was actually the desired outcome. Britain drifted off to sleep, huddled up within his blanket, thinking about how he would proceed with what they had going on.
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