Subject: Round and Round we go
Body: My name's Chris. I'm 15. I'm here because of my stupid bitch of a mother. If she hadn't done what she'd done, I wouldn't do what I do and thus, essentially, I wouldn't be here. Honestly, it's true.
I don't like talking about my family, so...if we meet up sometime, I wouldn't suggest you bring them up. If I want to talk about them, I will.
My mother is a bitch. All she's ever done my entire life is criticize me. Every morning when I would sit down at the table to eat breakfast, she'd pinch my side and say "I need to give you less eggs this morning." or something else equeally degrading. So....when the diet I put myself on and the exercise I was doing wasn't giving me results, I stopped eating for awhile. I realized that wasn't easily done as I thought and I took to buliema.
Yes, people, I realize I have a problem. That's why I'm here. Shock. Amazement. Let's throw a goddamn party, since the rest of you are surely in pure, blisfull denial. Denial was a nice place while it lasted, but once reality hits, at least you'll have a legitimate reason to hate yourself.
I'm in RED
Chris was sitting on the couch in the rec room, flipping through the pages of an old, backdated magazine. If he wasn't mistaken, it was an old issue of Teen Beat. He laughed softly at an offhand comment that one of the writers had made in one of the collumns he was reading.
William shifted uncomfortably as he walked into the rec room, sitting down on a couch and sinking into the cushions, hugging his oversized sweater close to his body.
Chris looked up, casting the boy a glance before returning to the magazine without a word.
William brushed his bangs out of his eyes, dutifully ignoring his trembling hands and biting his lip.
Chris wasn't particularly in the mood to pay attenionto people, so he decided to continue ignoring him. Hopefully he's not annoying or something...
William chewed on his lip for a few moments, an overwhelming feeling of isolation coming over him. He fidgeted with his hands and looked over at the other boy in the room, sitting up a little straighter.
He sighed softly and tossed the magazine back on the table.
He flinched when the magazine hit the table, watching the boy with slightly widened eyes.
He cast the boy another glance and sighed a little, "You okay?"
William bit his lip, immediatly getting up and sitting on the other couch, curling up on the edge and feeling slightly better now that he was closer to someone else. "I dunno."
"What's your 'issue'?"
He furrowed his brow, then nodded slightly. "Oh. Um. Borderline personality disorder..."
He nodded a little, "I'm bulemic.." He paused, "It's my mother's fault." He said passively.
He tilted his head to the side and just looked at him for a moment, then turned away, shifting a little closer. "I don't like to eat."
"In front of people? Or period?"
"Oh. Both." He shrugged a little, looking at his lap. "My ex-boyfriend told me I was fat. But he hated me, so."
"Hmm....yeah, that's all my mom's done since I was like five."
He scowled. "My mom hates me, too. And my dad and sister. That's why they left me."
"Yeah. Here. They left me alone."
"Well, if that's leaving you, then sure."
He scowled faintly, glaring at him. "How would it not be leaving me?"
"Because they put you here for people to help you. It's not like they took you out, drove you to some desert and left you stranded, speeding off like a bullet before you had a chance to even blink."
"It's still abandonment. They left me," he mumbled, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Because they can't stay here."
"I know," he snapped. "They didn't have to leave me here, though."
"They didn't know how to help you, they're letting people who do know how help."
William wrapped his arms around himself, glaring. "They didn't even try."
"Then they knew they couldn't."
"Shut up, no, you don't know them."
"Well, then you tell me, could they have helped you?"
"Y-yes, if they wanted to."
"I don't know! If I knew I'd already be...helped."
"Obviously, they didn't know how, so now you're here with people who can. You know, they'll still be able to visit. I personally hope my mother stays the hell away and never comes back, but...that's just me."
"They won't visit."
"Are you sure about that? People can surprise you sometimes."
"Well, then you'll make friends here."
He snorted, rubbing at his arm nervously.
"You know, you wouldn't think it probably, but I'm not usually this optimistic."
"So why are you now?"
"I guess you bring out my inner-optimist."
He blinked, smiling slightly. "Yeah?"
He nodded, "Apparently."
He grinned, crawling down the couch and kneeling a few feet away from the other boy. "Hi. I'm William."
"Hi," He nodded to him, "Name's Chris."
William smiled, shifting closer. "Nice to meet you." He tilted his head to the side and giggled. "You're pretty."
He bit back a smile, "Thanks..." He said slowly, "You're kinda cute yourself."
He shook his head and grinned. "No, but you really are."
He shook his head, "Nah."
He nodded, absently placing a hand on Chris' leg. "Yeah."
Chris smirked softly, "Maybe."
He giggled, licking his lower lip. "Have you been here long?"
"Not too long. You?"
"They left me here the day before yesterday."
"Yeah?" He nodded a little.
He nodded. "I've been alone since then."
"No roommate or anything?"
"No...I don't think so. Not now."
"No one to irritate you, too bad." He chuckled.
He shook his head. "I want someone there."
"'Cause I feel alone."
"But there's tons of people here."
He frowned, shrugging. "I don't know them."
"Uhm, well, you could meet them?"
"They wouldn't like me."
"You don't know that."
"Yes I do."
"If you haven't met them, you don't know that."
He shrugged. "I don't think they will."
"Why would they?"
"Because you're not that bad, honestly."
He smiled faintly. "Really?"
"Really." He nodded a little.
He grinned, sitting next to him. "Thank you."
He smiled a little, nodding.
"You're not bad, either."
"You think so?"
He shook his head. "No. I like you."
"Not many people say that about me."
"I'm not usually like I've been with you. I'm usually more....cynical."
He shrugged, leaning lightly against his side and looking at him with slightly wide eyes. "I think you're nice."
Chris smiled a little, "Well, thanks."
William giggled a little, nodding.
"So....gotta girlfriend or a boyfriend or anything outside this place somewhere?"
He shook his head. "I'm gay. And my boyfriend broke up with me a week before I came." He scowled.
"What'd he do that for?"
"He said dating while I was in an asylum would be dumb. He was an asshole, though."
"That's pretty lame." He shook his head.
He nodded. "Yeah. I don't miss him, though."
"I haven't had a boyfriend in awhile...." He shrugged a little.
"Just haven;t... Hasn't happened." He shrugged, "I'm only fifteen, though."
"Oh." He tilted his head slightly. "I had boyfriends when I was fifteen."
"I just...I dunno, the actual relationships I've had haven't worked out too well..."
"Yeah, me neither. My boyfriends were all bad to me."
"How bad? If you don't mind me asking."
He shrugged. "I dunno, bad. They were mean. Some just felt bad 'cause I'm, like, crazy, though."
"What'd they, like....date you out of pity for you or something?"
"I guess so."
"That's....kinda dumb, honestly. I mean...no one should date someone for reasons like that." He shook his head.
"Yeah. They were bad, anyway."
"Well, maybe you'll get luckier here," He nodded. "Fucked up people can't be too bad, right?" He smirked softly at the slight irony that statement brought on.
He shrugged a little. "Maybe."
He smiled a little, nodding a little.
He smiled, resting his head on Chris' shoulder. "You don't seem that fucked up."
"Mm...I'm not too bad. 'Til you see me without a shirt."
"I'm buliemic. It's not pretty."
He shrugged slightly, touching the tip of his finger to Chris' stomach. "You're pretty."
"Pretty face, maybe, ugly body."
"I don't think so."
"You haven't seen it."
"So?" He held out his arm, pulling up his sleeve to show him the scars on his arm. "That's ugly, too. I was angry."
"Angry about what?"
"I don't remember."
"I don't know what's worse."
He shrugged, "Just don't."
He nodded, pulling his sleeve down again and curling up on the couch.
He wrapped his arms around his own waist gently. "I...I won't show you that...." He said quietly.
"I know." He rested his head on Chris' shoulder, closing his eyes.
Chris sighed softly and laid his head against the other boy's.
William smiled, playing with a loose string on his sleeve.
He nodded. "Yeah. You help make me feel better."
"I dunno. I don't feel alone now."
He smiled a little.
He looked up at him, giggling.
"Nothin'. You have a nice smile."
"Nah." He shook his head.
"Yes you do."
"You're welcome," he smiled.
"You're cute," He said quietly, "have I said that yet?"
He shook his head, biting his lip lightly.
"Well, you are." He nodded.
He giggled, wetting his lower lip and curling his fingers around a piece of Chris' sleeve. "Thank you."
"It's just the truth," He said simply.
He blushed lightly and shook his head.
"Yes," He nodded a little.
"You too," he mumbled.
"Pretty face, ugly body." He mumbled, sighing softly.
"You don't know."
He arched a brow, looking up at him and snorting.
"I do so know."
"No you don't," He shook his head, "You don't know what it looks like. You don't know how sick it looks."
"I don't eat and there's cuts on my stomach, too."
"I hate it, but I can't stop it."
He nodded, shifting closer to Chris.
"I don't think they'll be able to stop it either." He bit his lip.
"I just don't."
"Well they can't cure me, either." He pouted slightly.
"But I wanna stop."
"So you can."
"No I can't."
"Because I've tried and it never works.
"Maybe you didn't try hard enough."