Manorexic
By: Holly Rose E.
Rating: T
Disclaimer: no own.
Author's Note: I am so sorry that this took so long for me to get out! Hopefully they won't always take this long, I just had a lot of stuff going on in my life but now everything's fine again so... yay for more chapters to come soon!
THANK YOU'S: JyouraKoumi, Tamika DanarDraco, InfynitiStar, Growing Pain, Sovereign of Silence3, DieChan, and Mrs.Ishida-to-you! I love all of you! Free lollipops for everyone!
Chapter Five: Middle of Nowhere
They chewed me up and then they spit me out
And I'm not supposed to let it bother me
Hot Hot Heat
He figured this place was supposed to be their mock-paradise, ridiculing the inmates even more so for being trapped here. But even so, even with high white brick walls on every side of him, he felt the most free he had all day long. The trees were tall, with abnormally broad leaves, offering plenty of shade to rest in. He even supposed he thought he had spied a rabbit at some point in time, dashing into the bushes where he supposed it made its comfortable little home.
He sat down gently on the ground, sitting always seemed to be a tricky sort of deals nowadays. His butt couldn't really handle being sat upon something, unless there was a thick cushion... but most of the time, no cushions were thick enough to really give him a comforting resting place.
Avoiding Taichi had been proving a tougher task than he had originally assumed it would be. The boy always seemed to know exactly where he was and precisely what he was doing. It was very unnerving. Aggravating at first – lord, had it been aggravating – he'd now come to rely on being found whenever he wanted to be lost. He was being refused that luxury, and was almost becoming dependent on their little game to get through the days.
However, last night...
(get off me, get the fuck off of me!)
(you don't know)
(it hurts... I can't even feel it.. anymore)
(leave me. leave me alone. alone. leave... leave me...)
Last night hadn't gone well, and Yamato didn't know where in the world they had dragged Taichi off to. Even more disturbing, Daisuke hadn't been around much so far today either. Usually he couldn't escape either one of their clutches but today something had settled in the air around him. Something that made him glance over his shoulder nervously and peak his eyes aimlessly around but forever seeking... looking for something that would give him a clue as to why he felt so restless.
"Yamato?"
His head jerked up, Kyoko was standing before him with her pleasant smile and hair falling about her shoulders in a slight bounce. His nose wrinkled in distaste as he looked at her waiting for her to continue. She did, but only after she fidgeted for a while nervously.
Sitting next to him, she drew her knees to her chest and twirled the half-dead grass between her fingers. "Yamato..." she said again, placing a gentle hand upon his stretched out knee, "Do you want to talk about last night?"
Inwardly, he jerked. He supposed he knew some dolt would dare ask him about last night, but he didn't think it would have been Kyoko. Yes, she was a bumbling airhead, but she tended to mind her own business and not get involved too deeply in the affairs of the patients.
He brooded in silence next to her, glaring ruefully at the hand on his leg. Once she noticed he was staring at it, she slowly, tentatively, withdrew her hand and placed it upon her lap, cupping her hands together serenely.
"Yamato... you should know... Taichi has these fairly frequently..."
He snorted mockingly, and she flew her arms about even more nervously before wringing her hands together. "I just don't want you to blame yourself or anything for his little episode, most of the time they're not... really spurred on by any particular event. They happen randomly..." She faltered, unsure of herself and how her words were affecting him, if they even penetrated the heavy brow of his.
"KYOKO!"
A foaming Akira ran up hurriedly towards Kyoko, waving his Pooh Bear around wildly with both hands. "The cheese giants are coming, Kyoko, hurry hurry! Don't let the Cheddars get you! OH GOD!" He looked fearfully behind him before he dived to the ground and shuddered dramatically.
Kyoko gave Yamato a look of sincere apologies and frustrations, but she hurried over to Akira, crouching down below beside him and half-played along, half-tried to get him to recover.
The corridors were shorter than they had first appeared, when he had been wheel-chaired down them. He'd found out the picture that had effected him so greatly had actually been drawn by Daisuke – who, in all rights, was actually a fantastic artist though the boy was always hesitant about showing his pictures.
He thought about last night and what had happened. The more he pondered over it, the less he understood it. He hadn't meant anything by what he said, they had both been joking around, he thought it would be all right. Assumptions really should never be said aloud, he decided. Nah, fuck that, at least some sort of entertainment comes from them.
He was sure when he saw Sora later on that day, she would try to make him feel guilty for what had happened. But... Yamato had decided long ago he was past remorse, he was past feeling.
(don't you ever get hungry?)
(I don't know what hunger is)
(how can you not feel hunger?)
(I forgot how to feel)
His steps were becoming shaky. He placed a hand upon the wall and traced the contours of the cracks and imperfections. He placed his other hand upon his stomach and felt its concave hollowness. Fingers traced over ribs, counting them up and down and up and down, they never seemed to end. But his pride and joy – his hipbones. His prominent, razor sharp hipbones could put any supermodel to shame.
Lolling his head back, he stopped in the hallway and rested, leaning against the wall for support before sinking down slowly to rock on the balls of his feet and placed his head into his hands.
&&&
Alone.
Again.
Slam.
Pain.
The left side of Taichi's body was beginning to get sore; more than one large bruise had decided to pop up. He was slamming into the very slightly padded wall of the solitary cell. This was normal routine, though he didn't normally continue for so long at a stretch.
Slam.
It was like a countdown, the steady staccato to help him get through the day until he can finally go to sleep. He could finally rest and say, I'm done for real this time, and no one would ever know what had happened.
Slam.
They'd thought he was sleeping when they first viewed his face that day. They later knew he'd done so much more. Terrified, he imagine they had recoiled in horror as they touched his body to try and wake him up, but his eyes never fluttered open. He was as good as dead, well, would have been. But his sister always cared too much for her own good.
Slam.
Withdrawals from pills and razorblades and the reliant hurt had nearly driven him nuts the first few days. He would do anything to feel the sting. He would bang his head on the wall, scrape away the skin of his forearm with an overgrown fingernail, and bite at his tongue and insides of his cheeks until his mouth was filled with blood.
Slam.
It got better, as they say everything does. He eventually got used to the monotony, of not always being used physically and abused mentally. But then something happened. A too-thin pretty boy had disrupted all of his days.
Slam.
Got too close, is what he did. Taichi was sure it was his own fault, though, of course. He pushed Yamato too far and made him snap and say those things. Say those awful raping things.
Slam.
He wanted to be burnt alive, just so he could say that he was dying and he could feel it. Could feel his life slip away just as his skin would slip from his body. As his eyeballs would melt and his toes curl involuntarily.
Slam.
Slam.
Slam.
He wanted out, to say that he was sorry. That he had driven Yamato to hating him already, to make him say those things to Taichi. That he was sorry; that he was so goddamned sorry.
Slam.
&&&
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