Three

            10-15% of people with anorexia or bulimia are males.  I might be one of those statistics, except I don’t know where I fall.  I’m anorexic by choice and bulimic by choice.  Before I came here, scheduled meals didn’t really happen.  My mom usually refuses me food for up to a week to make sure I was “good” on the inside.

            Sooner or later, I simply stopped eating on my own.  I got used to being hungry�"it wasn’t a big deal.  The only exception was school�"I always eat at school.  I’ve never had much for lunch money, but Matthew was always happy to share.  He brings food to school all the time, just so I could stay fed.  Even still, I’m extraordinarily skinny.

            I can’t stand the idea of eating three meals a day.  If I do eat more than one meal, I throw up to make room in my body for another meal.  If I have too much in my body at one time, it makes me feel sick, and I won’t be clean on the inside like my mom wants.  I used to get in trouble for throwing up, because I would make a mess in the bathroom.  That would get me a beating for sure�"with leather belts.  Now that I’m older, I can control how I throw up.  I don’t really know what started all this; maybe it was just the emotional toll living in a family like mine.

            They told me I’ve been moved to an actual hospital.  Evidently I had a really bad seizure, and the nurses rushed me here in an ambulance.  Now I have an ID tag, IV tubes coming out of me�"the whole works.  I don’t know how it got this far; I really don’t.  Every doctor that comes in here gives me this pitying look, and I wonder why.  It’s as if my whole life story spread like wildfire around the lunch table.  I don’t even want to imagine what people at school think.

            Someone slid open the door to my ICU room, and I looked up.  Tears immediately filled my eyes.

            “Hey,” Matthew said quietly.

            I couldn’t answer him.  I was silently sobbing, the pain in my chest too great for me to handle.  I didn’t want him to see me like this.  I sniffed a bit, sounding pathetic and small.  I was so ashamed of myself.  But just as always, he was holding my hand.

            “It’s okay…” he said, struggling not to cry himself.

            “How did you find out?”  I managed to say.

            “My mom got the call.  Your parents didn’t answer the phone.”

            “Sounds like them,” I said, shrugging.

            A silence settled in for the next few moments.  I let out a sigh, conflicted and confused.  Was it my fault that all this happened?  Did I ever have a choice on how to live my life?  I wanted to throw up so badly, more than I ever had in my life.  But I couldn’t�"not in front of Matthew, at least. 

            “Rick?”

            “Yeah…?”

            “Before I go….  I just wanted to tell you something.”

            “What?”

            “I love you,” he said quietly, squeezing my hand. 

            “I love you too,” I whispered, holding his hand tightly.  He left a few minutes after that, and I’ve felt restless ever since.  There is so much hatred in me; it feels like my bones are on fire.  I curled up in a ball and bit my tongue to keep from crying. 

            From far away, I hear voices screaming and yelling.  But I don’t care.  Black bats come to me again, and just like that, I’m gone. 

~///~

The panic sets in as I think of my family, my friends.  I’ve left them all behind, haven’t I?  Perhaps, but not for long.  Surely I’ll wake up sooner or later.  Why am I asleep anyway?  What happened?  I try to remember, but my mind is drawing a blank.  I try to move, and I hit my head on something hard.  My ears ring, and the smell of wood and earth put me back to sleep. 

            I awake with my thoughts spinning, my head pounding.  Why am I here?  And where is here?  I feel numb, lost in a whirlwind of panic.  I cry out in anger and frustration, but only a muffled sound comes out.  I can’t even hear myself scream.  Evidently my mouth is covered by something.  It’s tight and hard, like a cloth.  I try to open my mouth. A sharp pain stops me.  Back to sleep again.

            I wake again to a suffocating heat, and I realize that my breathing has become more difficult.  Am I in hell?  The air is thick.  The smell of earth makes me dizzy.  Like always, I’ve lost the nerve to fight.  Here in the dark, I cry the tears that only the purest sorrow brings. I’ve resigned myself to this fate, whatever it may be.  I will never see my family and friends again.  Every waking moment was in vain.  My tears lull me into a deep sleep.  May I never wake again.

~///~

            The phone rang, and Matthew hurried downstairs to get it.  He was hoping to hear if things with Rick had gotten better.  Every day seemed to go on and on with no good news. 

            “Hello?”

            “May I speak to Mrs. Reese?”

            “”Sure,” he said, hopes fallen.  Covering the receiver, he shouted up the stairs. “Mom!”

            “Yeah?”

            “It’s for you!”

            Sara Reese hurried down the stairs and took the phone, giving her son’s arm a squeeze.

            “Hello?”

            Mrs. Reese?”

            “Yes?”

            “I have some bad news for you concerning Rick Lutrell.”

            Sara sucked in a breath and steadied herself on the counter.

            “Mom…?  Are you okay?  What happened?”  Matthew asked.

            She held up a hand, shushing him.

            “Ma’am?  Are you there?” the nurse asked.

            “Yes, yes.” Sara said briskly.

            Matthew stood by, confused.  His heart was beating faster and faster, about to pump out of his chest.

            “The first number I called was disconnected,” the nurse explained.  “As the second number on the contact list, I called this one.  Thank you for picking up.”

            “You’re welcome.”

            “I understand you are partly responsible for this minor, correct?”

            “Well, I suppose.  I don’t have custody of him or anything, if that’s what you’re asking.  But we usually take him under our wing when things get too hard for him at home.”

            “I understand.”

            “So what happened?”

            “Please hold, ma’am.  A doctor will be with you shortly.”

            Sara pounded a fist on the counter, so hard it made the plates in the cabinet above rattle.  She hated waiting when there was an emergency.  Matt jumped, looking at her expression in surprise.  Rarely had he seen his mother so perturbed. 

            If it was such an emergency, why did they have her on hold? She wondered.  Matthew sat at the island and waited.

            “Mrs. Reese?”

            “Dr. Lee?  Yes?  What’s happened?”

            “I’m so sorry to tell you this, Mrs. Reese.”

            “What is it?!”  she hissed out, frantic now.  She couldn’t wait any longer, Rick was like a second son to her.

            Over the phone, Dr. Lee let out a soft sigh and informed her,

            “It’s my greatest regret to tell you that Rick tried to commit suicide at 5 PM today.”

            A rush of air came out of her lungs, and she gripped the counter so hard her knuckles turned white.  Matthew came over to steady her.

            “H…How?”

            “He bit through his tongue.  He was bleeding out before the nurses could get to him.  Currently, he’s in critical condition.  That’s all I can say right now.  I am so very sorry.”

            Although her face was white-pale, Sara steadied her breathing and said,

            “Thank you.”

            She hung up the phone and ran upstairs to grab her purse.  She came back downstairs, fishing out her keys.

            “Let’s go,” she said to Matthew.

            Knowing her tone, he obeyed immediately.  He followed her out to the garage, and got into her Mini Cooper.  It wasn’t long before he realized they were going to the hospital.  He knew this route by heart now, and his heart had dropped to his stomach.  As they walked into the ICU, he broke out in a sweat.  He had just been here this morning.  What could have possibly gone wrong in a matter of hours? 

            “Mom…?” he said weakly.

            She put an arm around his shoulder, but kept walking.  When they got to the last room on the left and turned to face the room, she took in a sharp breath.  Oh God, Have mercy! she thought.  Matthew turned away and hid his face in her shoulder, despite his being taller than her by nearly a foot.

            “Mrs. Reese?”

            She turned, fighting to keep her composure.

            “Well, well…  Look who it is.”  Mrs. Luttrell said snidely.  “The prissy Christian and her perverted son.  You should be ashamed of what you’ve done.  My boy was perfectly fine before your family came into his life.”

            Sara’s face scowled from embarrassment and then horror at these words. Keeping a quiet, even tone, she spit out,

            “How dare you?  This isn’t about us.  Your son just tried to commit suicide, and you’re trying to point the finger at me?!  You should be grieving, Renee!”

            “For what?” Renee said casually, pulling out a cigarette, then putting it away.  “Stupid hospitals,” she muttered.  “Anyway.  It’s good riddance, if he dies.  He always made his father and I so upset, and he was a complete disappointment.  Why give him away when someone else would have to deal with that.  It’s better he’s dead.”

            Mrs. Reese stood completely still, utterly horrified.  Shaking with fury, she said slowly,

            “He’s. Your. Son.”

            “So?”

            Mrs. Reese looked at her in disgust.

            “I’m hungry.  I’ve been here for twenty minutes and still they’ve given me no news.  This isn’t worth it.  It’s been nice chatting.”  Mrs. Luttrell smirked and walked away.

            Sara stood, forcing herself to be poised and calm.  She didn’t�"couldn’t’�"understand how a mother could forsake her child so easily.  It horrified her.  Sara led Matthew to the bench outside the room and sat down.  It wasn’t long before she started to cry.

            “Mom?  Rick….he…he tried to kill himself?”

            She looked into her son’s face, all crumpled up with emotion.  Drawing him close, she said,

            “Oh honey…  I’m so sorry.  I didn’t know how to tell you on the way here, and…I didn’t expect Mrs. Luttrell to be here.  It just kind of came out.”

            “It’s…it’s okay.  But…..”

            “He’s in critical condition right now.  That’s all I know.  That’s all they told me.”

            “But how could this happen?  How can this be happening right now?”  Matthew’s voice grew shrill.  “I saw him today.  I saw him this morning!  He was fine!”

“Matthew, honey, I don’t know,” she said, holding him tightly. 

 “I don’t understand.  I just don’t understand.”

“Shh…  It’s okay, honey.  It’s okay.”

“No!  It’s not okay!  That’s my best friend in there, not even fighting for his life!  He’s basically dead, and you’re telling me it’s okay?!  I can’t take this anymore!”

By now he was crying, and he sat back down.  Head in hands, he broke down and cried, his body shaking with sobs.  Sara rubbed his back, silent tears dripping down her cheeks.  A half hour later, Dr. Lee found them the same way. 

“Mrs. Reese?” she said, putting a hand on the woman’s shoulder.

Looking up, Sara nodded and said,

“Sara, please.”

Dr. Lee nodded, and Sara took a moment to compose herself.  Matthew looked away in anger and shame.  This was all his fault.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here when you arrived.  I just wanted to fill you in:  He’s in critical condition, and in a coma.  The longer he’s in a coma, the higher chance he’ll have brain damage.  The way things are…I don’t think he’ll make it.  I wanted to tell you that in person.”

“So….there’s nothing you can do?”

“He’s on a breathing machine, but other than that, no.  I’m so sorry.”  Dr. Lee took in a breath and said, “There’s really nothing that can bring him out.  Only time will tell.  But…I do believe it’s a good idea to Matthew to talk to him.  It’s highly unlikely for him to hear you or even respond, but I think it’s worth a try.”

Sara squeezed Matthew’s hand.

“You hear that, hun?”

“This might be the last time you’ll be able to interact with him as you’re used to,” Dr. Lee said quietly.  “I really think you should say a few words, but it’ ultimately up to you.”

Matthew nodded and got up.  It took a few short strides to get to Rick’s bed side.  Tears filled his eyes again as he took his friend’s limp, pale hand.  Rick’s cool skin sent shivers rippling through his skin.  Was he already dead?

“I…..I’m sorry, Rick.  I’m so sorry.”  Matthew choked out.  “I should have known.  I should have tried to stop you.  I wish I could take back all the jokes I made and the pranks I pulled.  I was just fooling around.  I really hope that, if you wake up, you can forgive me.  I love you, Rick.  I always have, and I always will.”

Teardrops fell onto the hospital bed�"little raindrops from the soul.  Matthew bent and kissed his friend’s cheek.

“This won’t be the end,” he whispered.  “It can’t be.”

Author's Note

what do you think?