FicWad

My throat burns, my stomach clenches and my chest hurts as I cough, spit up and puke anything I ate today. But, I suppose, I can‘t really complain. I’m the one that makes myself do it, after all.

It happens a lot, actually. I just can’t look in the mirror without hating what I see. Just some stupid, ugly dork that no one seems to give a shit about. No matter what I do, I always want to smash whatever is showing my hideous reflection. This habit I have…Well, it’s more of an addiction to me, no one knows about it. I admit, I’m quite a good actor. No one else has any clue at all. Not even my own brother, who’s like my best friend. I’m in too deep to turn back from the habit. I crave it. I want it. No…I need it.

It’s my time to strike, right now. No one’s home. That’s all I need to get away with it. So, I’m finishing up my self-induced puking. Now, comes the traditional miserable feeling. I feel stupid. I feel hopeless. I feel the need for a distraction. A quick fix to take my mind away from my emotions for just a little while. So, I pull out one of my oldest friends. I lift up my shirt and slowly drag the sharp, shiny metal across my disgusting stomach. I let out a small hiss and I can feel the blood slowly trickling downward. There’s the burning sensation I crave. The ugly marks are worth the momentary gain and, let me tell you, my stomach is absolutely covered in them. The faint red and pink cuts stand out even more on my pale skin. I softly smile to myself as I embrace this new pain that doesn’t really feel like pain at all. It feels more like relief.

This routine happens almost everyday. Some people might say I have a problem, but they don’t. Why? Because they don’t know and that’s how it’s going to stay. I made that decision a long time ago when I started doing this shit. How long has it been? I’d say around five or six months. It’s my addiction. All I think about is doing this just so maybe, I can look in the mirror without wanting to cry. The complete and utter disgust I feel when I see my reflection is almost too much to bear. I can’t help but hate every aspect of my looks and my personality. I’m a worthless little shit.

I am now laying on the bathroom floor. My shirt is slowly slipping back down my stomach, but I decide to remove it completely so the blood isn’t evident on my clothing. I can never be too careful.

I’m not entirely sure what the main cause was that made me start doing this to myself. Probably everyone at school doing everything they could to make me feel miserable by telling me how ugly I was or how stupid I was. Or the fact that because of that and my having no friends, I believed every damn thing they said and I now loathe myself.

I suddenly feel slightly uneasy. Knowing precisely how I‘m feeling, I know how to take care of it.

I slowly sit up and make my way back over to the toilet bowl I’d become so familiar with over the months. I lean over again, ignoring the sharp pain that went shooting through my stomach when my sliced, bleeding skin moved around. I shove my fingers as far back as they could go once again until I get what I want. After a few successful heaves, I breathe heavily, trying to catch my breath again. I sit down against the cool bathroom wall with beads of sweat beginning to form on my forehead and chest. I close my eyes as I try to breath normally again.

My heart stops cold when I hear his voice.

“M-Mikey…”

My eyes shoot open and I immediately look to where the sound came from. My brother, Gerard, is now standing in the doorway staring at me with wide, fearful eyes, and I don’t even know what to say. This wasn’t supposed to happen. My heart feels as though it’s thrashing around in my chest, trying to break out and escape. If I spoke my mind entirely right now, it would just be me screaming a whole heap of profanities. My whole secret has just been blown. Unless…

“How long have you been standing there?” It’s not until I ask him this, that I realize my voice is threatening sobs.

“L-Long enough…Mikey, w-what…what the fuck are you doing?” Gerard now has tears coming out of his eyes.

Oh, brilliant. Not only is my secret blown, but now I’ve made my brother cry. A wave of unbelievable guilt crashes over me. I don’t know what I’m meant to do, right now. I just look at him until my heart aches so much I can’t take it anymore. I then choose to look down at my hands, and as my eyes skim over my stomach, I realize he must’ve seen my range of scars including the fresh one that was still bleeding, slightly.

“Oh…shit.” I whisper, mostly to myself. How could I let this happen? Note to self: Lock the door even if you think nobody’s home. My heart is beating at a million miles per hour, at the moment. I have no idea what I’m meant to do in a situation like this. I can’t exactly jump up, laugh and say ‘Oh, snap! Cover’s blown, aye, big bro? Oh, well. I’m sorry I never fully digested any of the food you or mom cooked, but, eh! What can you do? Let’s play X-Box’. No, no. If I did that, Gerard would either start crying even more or punch me in the mouth for being a stupid prick. Which I am, for the record. At least, I certainly feel like one.

As I try to think of something to say, I unexpectedly give into the sobs that were just dying to escape from my chest. Those sick bastards. Now, I look like an even bigger idiot. I sit there, crying my fucking heart out when I feel my brother kneel beside me and wrap his arms around me. I try desperately to push him away as I don’t want this pity. I just want to be left alone and to pretend this never happened. One problem; I’m weak. Even weaker from all the food I don’t actually eat. So, my attempts to escape from his firm grip are futile. I give up and latch onto him like he’s the only thing keeping me alive, cries still ripping freely from my throat.

My sobs are loud, but I still hear Gerard quietly crying as well.

I feel so immensely guilty. I always told him I’d never hide anything from him and look at me now. This is the only thing I’ve ever hidden from him, but I know this is a secret big enough to hurt the both of us. It is hurting the both of us. If Gerard left right now, I’d probably try and kill the guilt, by killing myself. Trust me. The thought has crossed my mind before. That whole death thing, but I‘ve always been a little too scared to act upon it. I‘m such a fucking wimp. I don’t realize how hard my brother is actually crying until I can feel the top of my hair dampen from the tears rolling down his cheeks. We stay in this position for quite a while until I’ve run out of tears to cry and Gerard stopped too. I’m not sure why. He probably thought he needed to be the strong one, here. He’s always been the strong one. Obviously.

He releases me from his grip and holds me out at arms length. His eyes scan my face and I avoid them. I know if I look him dead in the eye, I’ll only start crying again. I feel Gerard’s eyes move slowly from my face to my stomach which looks like I tried to use it in place of an Etch-a-Sketch. I bite my lip, holding back my tears.

“Y-You’re bleeding, Mikes.” Gerard chokes out, looking like he’s trying to shake the tears from his voice.

“Yeah...” I breathe, still staring downward.

That’s all I can say? ‘Yeah’? Way to go, Mikey. You really know how to deal with this shit. I am quickly snapped out of my thoughts when Gerard stands up and takes both my hands in his. He pulls me up so I’m standing as well. I almost fall right back down again, though. All this sudden movement makes me dizzy. Gerard wraps his arm around my waist to stop me from falling over and guides me to the sink and I don’t dare look into that god forsaken mirror. I continue to stare at my hands while Gerard grabs some tissues and covers them in water.

He takes the tissues and moves my arm which I purposely placed over the fresh cut because I feel so fucking embarrassed. Not to mention ashamed. Gerard places the wet tissues over my cut and I hiss in response. Fuck, it stings!

“S-Sorry.” Gerard mutters.

I can tell he’s still a little shell shocked over this.

Pfft, a little? Ladies and gentlemen, the understatement of the century!

Gerard is the world’s most amazing brother, I swear. He wipes away all the slightly dried blood on my stomach and cleans up the cut before he pulls out a large band-aid from the drawer below the sink. He very carefully places it over my scar and stares at the rest of them with a stunned look on his face. I don’t want him to look at them. Just the thought almost brings me to tears again. Embarrassed, I quickly grab the shirt I discarded earlier and pull it over my head and stomach. I’m foolish enough to look Gerard in the eye. He’s giving me that pained look. It isn’t even a look I can describe. It’s just a look that tells me he’s begging for an explanation or anything that would make sense of what he walked in on. There’s something I’m not prepared to do! I feel my face turn red and I bolt out of the bathroom, and straight toward my bedroom.

“Mikey! Don‘t run away from me!” Gerard calls after me. I hear his footsteps following me down the hall.

I run into my room and slam the door shut, locking it. I lean against it and slowly let myself slide to the floor, as a few tears roll down my cheeks. I feel completely and utterly ashamed. Gerard starts to knock on my door, begging me to let him in.

“No, Gerard! Just leave it!” I yell.

“Mikes, please.” Gerard replies in a calm tone, but I hear the pain behind it. “Let me in. Talk to me, damnit!”

“N-No! This never happened, okay?!” I start to cry again. At least he can’t see me this time.

“Mikes, c’mon. Please! I love you. Tell me I’m imagining this…What the fuck was that, back there?!”

“Nothing of your concern!”

“Of course it’s my fucking concern!” he slammed his fist against the door. “What the fuck is going on with you, Mikey? Since when was something so bad you couldn’t tell me?”

“Since five fucking months ago!”

“Five months?! Fuck, Mikey, let me in! Please!” Gerard starts bashing on the door full force now. I’m not going to be surprised if he breaks the damn thing down.

“Gerard…” I cry with more tears falling. I don’t know what else to say. I’m hoping he takes that as a ‘Please. I’m begging you. Leave me alone’. Oh, but of course. He doesn’t. My big brother continues to bang and bash on my bedroom door, yelling at me to let him in until he groans quite loudly. I think he’s hurt his hands. Or he’s just frustrated.

“Mikey. Please…Just let me in. We can talk about this. I won’t tell mom or dad. Please…” I can hear him starting to cry again. Damn Gerard and his unintentional guilt tripping! I sigh heavily, trying to pull myself together as I get off the floor and slowly open the door, of which I’m sure Gerard has almost shattered, with slightly shaking hands. He’s standing on the other side and, just as I thought, he has tears falling from his eyes again. Before I have time to say anything, he pulls me into another hug and I hug back. I can’t not hug Gerard when he hugs me. It’s always been that way.

He lets me go and says “Sit down on the bed. We’re talking. Now.”

Not in the mood to argue any longer, I do as I’m told. There’s no avoiding this now. I sit on the end of the bed and Gerard sits next to me, pulls himself together and wipes his eyes. He takes a deep breath before talking again. “You have no idea how much seeing that just shocked the breath out of me…How fucking long has this been going on?”

A pang of guilt hits me right in the chest, “L-Like I said. Five months.”

“A-And you never told me? Or got any help? You just kept doing it?” His voices starts cracking from tears, “Why didn’t you te-”

“Of course I didn’t tell you! How was I meant to? No one was ever meant to see this. Why the fuck are you home from work early, anyway?!” I ask, blushing furiously, embarrassed.

“I faked sick. I didn’t want to be in that shithole, but that isn’t the important thing, here! Mikes, you know you can tell me anything and I’m fucking glad I came home early now. If you kept doing this unnoticed I can’t imagine what could happen to you.” he closes his eyes because I think he’s trying to not cry and breathes, “Oh, shit, Mikey…”

“I’m sorry.”

“W-Why? Why did you even start doing this? Why?”

“Because I hate my reflection. I hate myself.” I mutter. I still can’t believe he’s found out about all of this. It‘s humiliating. “Everyone at school keep shoving the stupid truth in my face. They’re right, Gee! I’m fucking worthless, and I don’t wanna hate myself anymore. I have to do this.”

“What the fuck are you on about? No, you don’t. Mikes, what the hell has gotten into you? You don’t care what people think of you. Remember?”

“Apparently not.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Gerard staring at me with those huge caring eyes he always uses. He’s quite empathetic, that one.

“Mikey, you have to stop this. Please. I thought you looked…well, you look like a fucking cancer patient. You need to stop this. Five months?…How did you even…Okay, look, just please, please, please stop. You know I love you, little bro. I don’t wanna see you destroy yourself like this. Or at all.”

I don’t say anything. I can’t promise him that. It’s my addiction. He’s asking me to just give up my drug? I can’t do that. Not right away, anyway. I don’t even know if I can do it at all.

“It’s easier said than done, Gee.”

“I’ll help you. Just please let me help you, Mikes.”

As much as I want to admit that I’ll never be able to give it up, I don’t want to make Gerard any more distressed than he already seems to be. So, I reluctantly nod and bury my face in my hands. My big brother puts his arm over my shoulder and holds me close.

“You’re gonna be okay, Mikes.” he says.

I don’t know whether to hope he’s right or just accept that he isn’t.

Oh, god in heaven, help me now.

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xo, Dr-Giggles.