Chapter 8

                                    

                                          



Song of the chapter: Better than Words by One Direction 




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Chapter name: Fuck off. 






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Vic's POV 







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Nothing hurts more than hearing the voice of someone you love, when you're trying to end your relation with them. It's like a stab in the gut, but you know you have to keep proceeding to push the knife in further. I hated the feeling of sadness in which I was feeling now, but it had to be done and I was too much of a pussy to do it. 

Do it. 


I knew I had to do it. Had. This was a must. And if I didn't do it, it would probably end in me getting angry and someone loosing a perfectly good nose structure. Because if I saw my mum or dads face again, that's exactly what I would make happen. 

Do it for their noses. 


I won't get another chance to do it again, so it's now or never. "Hey Vic, are you done yet?" Kayleigh knocked on the bathroom door, which -thank god- I locked. I didn't say anything, I just kept quiet. I am not speaking to her again. Ever. She doesn't deserve to be spoken to, I will not give her the satisfaction. I heard her footsteps and an inaudible grumble sounded through the door, so I stared at her phone screen, that had the key pad staring back at me. Taking deep breaths, in and out I managed to type the numbers into the phone with shaky fingers. I held the phone to my ear, once again and waited for it to go to ring out and go to voice mail. But no, she had to the answer the phone. 


"Hello. This is Mariam" her voice made me more and more anxious by the millisecond. 

"Hey mum, its Vic." My throat dry, and my voice horse. 

"Oh. Hello, Victor." She sounded disappointed, not surprising really. I knew she didn't want to speak to me, and I now know I am making the right decision by basically telling her to fuck off, "How is the crazy hospit-." 

"Cut the crap, mother. I know you don't care, it shows since you haven't visited like you said you would. And I know I shouldn't have expected anything from you, but for fucks sakes. A phone call would have been nice! I bet you just shipped me off here to get away from me, and then you were just going to leave me here without anything but a shitty therapist," I ranted, and she was completely lost for words, "just do me a favour, Mariam. And never, ever talk to me again." 

"Its mum to you," 

"I will call you that as soon as you start acting like one to me. For now you're Mariam or that fucked up bitch face who I don't want anything to do with. Now goodbye." I pressed end call, the adrenalin rushing through my veins and tears pouring through my eyes and down my cheeks. Now that I have said something to Mariam, I actually hate her. I don't know how I even expected anything from her. It was a bit far fetch for even that woman. I wiped the small droplets of water from my face with the sleeve of my green jacket, and stood up, looking myself in the mirror. 

Ugly. 

Fat

Disgusting. 

Those exact words popped into my head as soon as my face came into view of the reflective glass. I have never felt so much hatred towards a person before, not even my mother. I don't even know how that's possible. It's not possible. 

Well it is now. 


"Vic, are you alright?" Kayleigh's voice came through the door, and my response being opening the door and handing her phone back to her. If she was expecting me to talk to her again, it wasn't going to happen. 

"I guess so then," she whispered under her breath. Well, miss know-it-all I am not 'alright'. 

"If I were alright, I wouldn't be here." The snide remark left my lips before I even thought about it. I need to stop talking. Like, this is a problem. 

"Yeah, you're right. Just pretend I never said anything," she whispered again, like she was afraid of what I'd say. The one thing I realised is she isn't as confident as she was when we first met. Before she was really out-going and loud, now she is always quiet and looking like she'll break any second. She's probably on her period or something. 

"Anyway. It's requested that we take anorexia patients to the cafeteria once a week for lunch, and we'll be doing that tomorrow. Just letting you know so you don't bite my head off for not telling you, that's even if you speak to me at all," she, again, whispered the end, like she didn't want me to hear it. 

Fine be like that, bitch. 

"I am just going to leave you alone now. You're allowed outside, by the way. Just walk down the hallway and follow the signs on the wall that say backyard. Bye Vic," and with that she left. Who knew it was so easy to get rid of someone so stubborn, so easily? 

I sat back on my bed for what seemed like the thousandth time that week. Thinking about what I should do while I put my headphones in, blasting my favourites into my ears. All I know is that I am not going outside. 


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I can't believe I am going outside. This is totally outside of my comfort zone, but I had to get out of that damn bedroom. I was getting so bored of that damn room, I knew that place like the back of my hand. 

I reached the double doors that led to the yard, and pushed them open which left me looking into a large area with green grass and a few large trees strewn out all over the place. It was huge, like, beyond huge. Other patients walked around, smiling and talking to one another on the park-like benches that were next to the seven storey high building. I walked through them, nearly invisible and I practically floated out of their vision to the very back of the fenced off yard, and sat myself under a tree. Because I didn't bring anything to occupy myself with, I drew in a small patch of dirt, with a stick, making random lines and squiggles. I breathed in deep, feeling the fresh air cleanse my lungs and I realised how much I missed the outdoors. Besides the agonisingly painful beach trip with Kayleigh, I hadn't been outside in a good month. 

"Can I sit with you?" A small voice came from behind me. I turned around to see the young red headed girl from the gathering a couple of nights ago. I nodded my head, in hopes that I could keep my mouth shut. "I am Shayla by the way," her voice was soft, and her face innocent looking. Something about her made me think about wether or not I should actually say something. 

"I'm Vic." 



"You an anorexia patient?" She asked as quick as anything. 



"Yeah, how did you know?" 



"Red wristband." She held up her own pale wrist, embedded with cut and burn injuries showing a red wristband just like mine, showing we were anorexia patients. 



"Oh," I nodded my head and continued to draw in the sand. I didn't mind this girl, she seemed nice enough. 

"How old are you?" 

"19, you?" We quickly engaged in a conversation about how she was not a ten year old, but 'funsized'. And she turned out to be 18 and a half, which was a big shock for me, because I honestly thought she was 15 or 16. Her birthday was in exactly six months, and she was an orphan, as she was told four months ago because she was stuck in here. She wasn't allowed to go to her mothers funeral, but she didn't particularly like her mother so she wasn't as impacted about her death than a normal person would. I didn't tell her much about myself, I don't really like talking, I am more of a listener. 


"I have to go now, it was nice meeting you, Vic " she smiled as she stood and held out her hand for me to shake. 



"You too."


"We are staying on the same floor so you could visit me sometime, yeah?" 





I nodded my head as she walked away and that's when I realised. 




I let someone in, 





And we all know that can't end well.