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Chapter 12

I always wished that the world wasn't so cruel. I remembered sitting in my room at home, wrapped in a blanket because I never seemed to be able to warm my bones, and just staring outside. The world kept spinning, people continued to exist even though all I wanted to do was not.

Not exist.

With tears in my eyes, I knew how insignificant I truly was in the world. I mean, someone somewhere was probably finding out that their life was about to end; someone somewhere was holding their newborn child, excited for the rest of their lives. Yet, all I could do was dwell in my own bubble of misery.

The skinny boy house became another bubble. At times it didn't feel so horrible; however, the majority of the time I found myself trying to forget where I was. The boys helped. Geoffrey and Rich's antics never made for a boring day.

Hell, we all even managed to get away with a food fight! Ruth was ballistic, of course; she went on and on about how we were wasting food and just causing a disruption so we could get away with not eating.

Long story short, we ended up having to eat in silence for the next few days.

Despite the distractions, it was the nights that always reminded me where I was. No matter how hard I tried, I always found myself wrapped around the obsession over my weight. The sad thing was that I knew I was healthier; I knew I was getting better.

I just didn't feel any better.

In fact, I felt worse.

When I slipped away into the bathroom, I didn't look at myself in the mirror. I was afraid of what I would see. I simply couldn't bare to see myself in such a condition.

I just wanted to close my eyes and make everything disappear.

I wanted to disappear.

Rich seemed to be on the same page as me, and with time, he seemed to radiate a darkness. At first, he played by the rules, eating his meals and following each and every command. He even passed room inspection with only a few off-hand comments about Ruth's chubby fingers; however, in a matter of weeks, Rich evoked the darkness, pulling it into his being.

He began to fight back. He refused his meals; he refused to talk in therapy. It didn't take long for Ruth to resort to strapping him down to the chair and force feeding him.

It wasn't a pretty sight.

Hell, it scared me. It scared me more than I ever wanted to admit.

The strangest thing about the whole experience was no matter how much Ruth tried, she couldn't extinguish the fire behind his eyes. The more she tried; the harder he resisted.

Ruth ended up with food spit in her eyes many a nights. Still, she never called his parents; she never threatened to have him sent away.

"She's all talk," he would say as we all huddled in Steven's room. It became a headquarters of sorts, and we spent most of our free time together just hanging out.

The skinny boy club.

The thin men.

In a way, Ruth was all talk; however, the day she, with the nurse behind her, threatened to have a feeding tube shoved down his throat was the day Rich begrudgingly nibbled on his food.

I had so many nightmares after that. Every night I found myself tied to a chair with a tube being forced down my throat. No matter how much I screamed or kicked or fought, I couldn't free myself.

I woke up with the lingering taste of whatever I had for dinner that night.

Above all else, the skinny boy house was a cruel place where we had no power.

No voice.

"We should all fight back!" Rich exclaimed one Wednesday night. "If we all banded together, they would leave us alone!" He was on his feet pacing back and forth through Steven's room.

I scoffed. "I seriously doubt that would do anything other than get us all in trouble."

Steven nodded from the floor where he sat with his legs crossed. "Yeah, we would all just end up on Ruth's list."

"That's bullshit!" He nearly shouted. "If we don't keep fighting, they'll win!"

"Win what, Rich?" Steven asked. "This isn't a game. There are no prizes; there is no point."

Rich forced a loud laugh. "No prices, eh?" He pulled his loose shirt down, exposing his collar bones. "What do you call these?" He ran his fingers along the protruding bones as if they were made of gold.

I imagined him like Golem from Lord of the Rings.

I could practically hear him whispering, "my precious."

"That's not fair," Geoffrey pouted from the corner. He had his eyes lifted from the newest edition of Vogue. "I miss mine; though," he began as he pushed himself to his feet, "these bad boys are still pretty nice!" Pulling down his jeans, he exposed his prominent hip bone. "These were always my favorite." Geoffrey plopped back down on the floor and sighed. "I'm going to miss them when they are gone."

I found myself staring enviously. My favorite bones were my ribs and without thinking, I reached for my sides. A stab of sadness struck me when my fingers met with flesh instead of hard bone. Of course the bones were still there, but I instinctively missed their prominence.

Steven didn't seem to want any part of the conversation. He rolled his eyes. "Let's move on," he grumbled.

"No!" Rich went on as seriousness contorted his face. "Why should be have to give up the things we love! It's torture; it's not fair!"

I agreed with him; I actually agreed with Rich. It really wasn't fair. Sure, we knew we were hurting ourselves, but our bodies belonged to us and us alone. Why did it matter what I did with it?

"Life isn't fair, doll," Geoffrey added with a sigh and hair flip. "It's probably best if we just accepted that fact." He sighed once more; this sigh was much deeper. "I do miss it though. Really really."

"Me too," I whispered more to myself than to the group. My words were the truth though. There was a power, a strength in torturing your body. You were in control.

Fully in control.

Steven placed a hand on my knee and offered me a small reassuring smile. "I think we all miss it a little. It's only normal."

"Then why do we have to stop?" Rich stopped pacing and stared down at the rest of us. His eyes had a dark gleam to them that sent a shiver down my spine. "What if we played by their rules but bent them slightly?"

Geoffrey seemed to perk up, and Steven pushed himself to his feet. "I don't want to be a part of this. We're here to get better; we aren't here to dwell on the things we can't change, so let's just move on." Irritation seeped into his tone, and Rich stood quietly for a moment.

"Fine; fine. This conversation isn't over though." Rich seemed to square his shoulders.

He was standing his ground.

"It is for me." Steven turned his attention to me. "Are you coming with me?" He extended a hand as a small smile pulled at the corner of his lips.

I hesitated for a moment as I found myself torn between the voice in my head and my gross bloated disgusting gut. On one hand, I wanted to hear what Rich had to say; I wanted to join in his crusade against the chains that pinned us all down. On the other hand, my gut screamed in protest. It knew that I had to get better; it knew I was broken.

So, I listened to my stupid gut.

"Where are we going?" I asked, taking his hand.

He shrugged. "Who knows. The world is a vast place."

"Gag me," Geoffrey spat, tossing his magazine at us. It hit Steven in the butt. "I may not even have to break the rules; you guys may make me vomit all on your own."

"I'll second that," Rich agreed, plopping down next to Geoffrey.

Steven ignored the other boys and we made our way downstairs. On the way out, I glanced over my shoulder to find the two remaining boys huddled next to each other, and a ping of guilt stabbed me in my stomach.

"Invite Geoffrey," the voice in my head whispered. "Get him away from Rich..."

I blocked out my thoughts as Steven led me out the front doors into the late afternoon. The fresh air seemed to quiet my mind until the only thing I had to focus on was Steven.

He was a wonderful human being, and I thoroughly enjoyed every moment I had with him. When my mind was at its darkest, he would appear with a torch to chase away the shadows.

I didn't deserve him...

Things at the skinny boy house never really did level off past that. Rich and Geoffrey more or less broke away from me and Steven. They spent all of their free time together, and it didn't take long to notice how thin they remained. Despite this, they ate every meal and played by every rule. They spoke up during therapy and paid attention when it was our time to speak.

They were playing the part of a perfect skinny boys; however, when they began losing weight, we all underwent vigorous room inspections. Somehow, they even managed to pass those. When Ruth and the other staff couldn't prove they were cheating their system, Terry was placed as a full-time bathroom police.

Even then everything checked out.

Steven and I never discussed the other boys, and when I tried to bring it up, he waved me away and changed the subject.

Ignorance is bliss.

Rich and Geoffrey continued to loose weight; however, at times they gained. Just as soon as Ruth was about to blow a gasket, they would gain a few pounds for that week, then another pound the next. From the outside looking in, I could tell they were playing a game, a game they were winning.

After that, I started paying attention to the boys more; I tried to keep an eye on them even when Ruth's eye was turned elsewhere. Even with this, they appeared like the model patients, and when the four of us would finally hang out together, Rich and Geoffrey would show off their protruding bones like badges of honor.

I wanted to do the same.

I wanted to show off my bones; I would sign the same contract the devil gave them to be thin in a heartbeat.

As soon as I was about to grab a pen and sell my soul, I would catch Steven's eye. No matter what I was feeling, his smile seemed to ground me and put me back on my feet. In all honesty, without Steven, I would have been right there with Geoffrey and Rich.

It was the little things, really: a light hand touch after a meal, a quick flash of a smile in therapy, and the constant, quiet reassurance that everything would in fact be fine. When I was around Steven, the world was right; my world was right. In the other boys presences, I found myself wondering what would have happened to me if Steven hadn't been here.

Would I have had what it took to stand on my own to feet, to keep myself from falling into a million tiny pieces?

I didn't know; I really really didn't know.

On a day just like any other, the boys and I made our way up the stairs to our rooms after our last class for the day. I had a mountain of homework to do, and a nice headache boiling at my temples. Math seemed to have that effect on me. There was just something wrong with numbers messing around with letters. I totally understood that math was the language of the world and that it was super douper important and all that jazz; however, I honestly couldn't imagine myself existing in a world where I would have to solve for x all the damn time.

Rich and Geoffrey immediately slipped into Geoffrey's room once we were at the top of the stairs. "Goodbye, hookers," Rich couldn't help but add.

I couldn't resist an eye roll.

"Want some help with the homework?" Steven asked, standing in the doorway to his room.

"Nah," I replied while rubbing my temple. "I may actually take a nap; these math problems have my head spinning."

Steven chuckled at me. "It's not that hard, Max."

With one hand, I waved him away. "It's fine. If I get too overwhelmed I'll come to you." I paused to open my door and toss my books into the mess that somehow became my room. It wasn't as if I hadn't cleaned the dang thing in a week or so. "Wanna join me in my nap?"

Steven lifted his eyebrow. "As tempting as that is, I think I'm going to knock this homework out. You know what they say about ripping a bandaid off in one swoop."

"That it's still going to hurt like hell?" I mocked.

"Something like that," he chuckled. "I'll see you at dinner."

With a small smile I nodded and shut myself in my room. Wading through the mess that was my room, I made my way to the bed only to find its surface covered in Geoffrey's magazines. Sighing, I stacked them neatly on the overcrowded nightstand and crawled into bed, kicking my shoes off in the process.

Sleep came quickly, and for once I didn't have a single nightmare. Well, if I did, I couldn't remember it, and that was a small blessing. When I awoke, the sun was still in the sky, and my headache faded to little more than a slight annoyance. A quick glance at the clock on my nightstand showed me I only slept for a little over half an hour.

Yawning, I threw my legs over the edge of the bed and stared at my surroundings. I spent so much time in Steven's room that I let my own personal space fall into ruin. Clothes lay scattered and piled in the floor where I took them off at, and Geoffrey's magazines dotted the room on every flat surface.

I decided to stop living like a slob and began to straighten my room. Of course, I told myself it was because I couldn't function in such disarray; however, I was nearly one hundred percent positive I just really didn't want to do my homework.

Unfortunately, It took less time to straighten my space than I previously thought, and I found myself thumbing through my math book and reading through the assignments. In less time than it took to pile all of Geoffrey's magazines into a leaning tower, I felt my headache begin to bloom once more. "No thank you," I grumbled, shutting the math book shut. Blowing out a breathe, I eyed the magazine once more. There was no point in flipping through any of the issues again; I had read each one a handful of times.

"I should probably get these back to Geoffrey," I thought aloud. Carefully, I balanced the stack of magazines in my arms. As I hobbled through my room and clawed at the door handle, I suddenly felt like the fat mouse in Cinderella. Though, unlike the fat mouse (I think his name was Gus.) I didn't drop my goods.

Take that! Max: one. Fictional mouse in a Disney movie: zero.

Geoffrey's door was cracked, so I just bumped it open with my shoulder. "I'm just returning these; I'm trying to clean my room to avoid the home-" My mouth fell open as I turned to face my two housemates.

Rich and Geoffrey sat on the floor beside his bed, facing each other. Geoffrey had his fingers down his throat as Rich held a small plastic bag close to his mouth. They turned their eyes to me automatically, and the three of us existed in silence for what felt like forever.

I didn't understand my shock because I knew deep down that they must have been purging this entire time. I mean, how else would they be staying so thin while so much food got shoveled into out throats. "I'm s-sorry," I stammered quickly. Suddenly, I felt trapped as I held the mountain of magazines.

"Just drop them on the floor," Rich began calmly. "We'll get to them later."

Avoiding their gazes, I let the magazine fall from my arms, and I quickly spun on my heels to make a quick escape.

"Wait," Geoffrey's words were small, weak, "please don't tell. I can't get in trouble."

I hesitated in the doorway and turned around slowly to meet Geoffrey's intense emerald stare. His eyes seemed panicked as he absently chewed on his fingernails. I opened my mouth to speak, but Rich interrupted.

"Don't worry your pretty little face off," he pat his friend on the shoulder while moving the baggies out of sight. "I'm sure Max isn't going to run to Ruth; he's one of us."

One of us.

I was one of them.

You are one of them, my mind whispered reassuringly. You will always be one of them. I wished my mind would choose a side and stick to it; all this flip-flopping gave me a migraine.

"It's really easy. We have it all worked out." Rick spoke matter-of-factly. "We just throw up in these little bags, stuff them in our clothes, and take turns flushing them down the toilet." As he spoke, his eyes bore through me; he was so proud of himself for fooling the adults. "Terry has no idea what we're doing, and Ruth hasn't even noticed the missing bags. It's a perfect plan." Rich's eyes gleamed as he spoke. "You should join us. We can all stick together and really show Ruth who is in charge here."

Words refused to form on my lips; all I could do was stare down at my housemates dumbly.

"It's really easy," Geoffrey agreed.

When I finally gained the ability to speak, I managed a small, "No thank you."

"That's fine," Rich started all too quickly, almost defensively. "Shut the door on your way out."

A wave of relief rushed over me as I made my way out of the room. All I wanted to do was lock myself away and do my stupid homework; I was in no way fit to handle this right now.

Mentally or emotionally.

"You aren't going to tell are you?" Geoffrey begged frantically. "Please don't tell!"

His words followed me down the hallway as I made my way to my room. Before I stepped through the threshold, I took a deep steading breath and raked hands that I hadn't realized were trembling down my face.

What was I going to do?

Was it my responsibility to tell someone about Rich and Geoffrey? How much trouble would they get in? Rich was already in so much trouble as it was, and Geoffrey seemed terrified of getting caught.

It was all too much.

Spinning around, I knocked on Steven's door.

"Hey, you need help with that homework after all?" His warm smile quickly faded away as he met my eyes. "What's wrong?"

Once in the safety of his room, I told him everything I found out. As I word vomited all over him, Steven held me and remained quiet until I ended with, "What do we do?"

Steven blew out a breath. "Honestly," he began, "I think we should just let them get caught."

I blinked dumbly. "What?"

"I don't think we should get involved."

I stood up from his bed and stared down at him. "Really? I mean, just like that? We don't say anything?"

Steven nodded. "Rich is already skating on thin ice. I don't want to be the reason he get's kicked out of the program, and from the sounds of it, he needs to be here."

I couldn't believe what I heard. Steven always played the voice of reason; it felt extremely out of character for him to just wash his hands of something. "What about Geoffrey? Are we just going to let Rich take him down with him?"

"Geoffrey is a big boy; he knows the risks of what he's doing." He sighed. "Look, we're all just trying to hold ourselves together, right?"

I nodded slowly.

"Then let us let the adults do their jobs. Plus, Ruth is onto them anyway. It's only a matter of time before they get caught." Steven offered a reassuring smile. "Don't stress yourself out. It's all going to be fine."

I sighed, sitting back down. My stomach still remained in knots as Steven wrapped an arm over my shoulder. "Are you sure?"

"Absolutely," he replied instantly. "I bet in a few days we'll watch Rich get carried out of here kicking and screaming."

"Don't sound too excited about it," I added dryly.

Steven shrugged. "He's a bad influence on all of us."

I had to agree with him there. Rich was a walking, ticking time bomb. 

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