I ended up curling up in the sheets of Zac's bed, while Isaac cried into the pillow on the other side, and fell asleep.
I had been having empty sleep those days. Avoiding all things that would remind me of Annissa - the panic attacks subsided for the time being, and nightmares hadn't come to me for a week. It seemed that any dream I had was a nightmare, and the other nights were empty, black, dreamless nights. These days I dreamt in black and white, with the exception of the blood that seemed to overtake me in my dreams. When there was blood, there was red, and that was when I woke up shivering.
The dream I had that day were filled with images that didn't leave me when I woke up in the morning. This time I remembered what I saw. I drifted slowly - listening to Isaac's sobs - and a scene fabricated before my eyes... a dark familiar hallway, and a closed bathroom door. This time the body in the bathtub was naked, and I lay with her. She was dead, but I fucked her anyway, her face unflinching, looking delicate, looking beautiful. Her head bobbed grotesquely, though, as I thrust against her body and her arms were hanging limply over my shoulders. The blood was dripping down my back.
When I came her eyes opened. I pulled back, shocked, and her beautiful face melted away and became the face of a skeleton - whose teeth were sharp like a dogs. The teeth tore at my flesh and ripped out my heart. It was still beating in the teeth. The door opened then, and the beast turned its long neck, as I did. Zac stood there.
"What are you doing, Tay? Come on, you're late for work."
"I'm kind of busy," I said, nonchalantly waving my hand toward the creature with my heart. He glanced at it and put his hand on his hip.
"Why don't you just let it finish you off. Lets get out of here, we're wasting time."
I suddenly felt anxious and slimy inside. "No, no, I don't want that to happen." I said. I looked down in the tub and blood was filling up all around me. I looked up at the doorway and Zac wasn't there anymore. His head, instead, emerged between my legs and he began sucking my cock, and I heard his voice, as if he were talking to me. "Tay, I'm sick of having to do this shit to get you motivated." I squirmed, and he was shouting at me, "Hurry up and come, already. You useless fuck."
He had the body of the monster draped over his shoulder, and the monster was clenching its teeth on my struggling heart. I let out a painful gasp and felt the release of ejaculation. Zac didn't seem phased by this, he just raised his head and continued to bitch about how late we were. I looked over at the skeleton head, which had taken the look of some kind of fanged, drooling, human contortion with a three-foot neck. My heart was squirting blood, and it was spraying all over Zac's hair.
"Zac... your hair is..."
"YOUR HEART IS RIPPED TO PIECES." Blood spilled from his mouth when he spoke and stained his clothes. I watched with horror as he fell face first into my open wounds, vomiting blood and shaking as if he were having a seizure. Soon his movement ceased, and the glowing eyes of the monster glinted, opening its jaw wide for the final blow. I was shaking my head and frozen with fear the jaws clamped down hard and fast, and that's when I awoke - screaming and sitting up with a start. I was shivering and wet, and scared of what my mind could produce.
I calmed myself down, clutching my pounding chest. I turned my glazed eyes to Isaac, who was still lying beside me. He looked concerned, and I felt somewhat comforted by this - rather than violated. I reached over and pulled him into a shivering hug, I was so scared.
"Nightmare?" He asked.
"Yes." I said, my voice was weak, almost a whisper.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
I squeezed my eyes shut and shook my head, "No... no..."
He seemed to understand, "It's okay; you don't have to tell me if you feel uncomfortable about it."
I pulled my knees to my chest and shook my head, "I don't... I don't want to think about it." I was still shivering and my muscles were fatigued. I stood up and my knees were jittery. "I think I'm going to take a shower." I said, softly.
Isaac followed me to the bathroom, and I turned to him, "I'm fine. You don't have to follow me."
"I'm sorry..." He said, "I was just going... going to the kitchen."
I looked after him as he headed further down the hallway. I stepped inside the bathroom and started the shower. I pulled off my sweaty clothes and stepped into the shower for a quick clean. I washed my hair and clumps came out in my hands. I ran a soapy sponge over my body, and realized how faint I was feeling. I rinsed, then stepped out of the tub, standing wet in front of the mirror. I felt somewhat refreshed, cleansed of my dream, but still incomplete.
I stood in front of the steamy mirror and drew pictures of people and scenery. I spent a very long time in front of the mirror, staring at myself until the steam was gone. Noticing how thin my hair was becoming, how thin I was becoming, and the scars that were healing. I couldn't help but wonder if I was healing.
I hated my eyes. I hated their horrific truth. Staring at my eyes was the most painful thing in the world, for me. My whole body could decay in front of the mirror, but my eyes stayed blue. They were full of pain, but didn't disappear like the fat on my bones, they didn't fall out like the hair on my head. They remained the bright sunny blue color that they always were, and I couldn't do anything about that.
My eyes filled up with tears, and I slumped back against the wall and let them fall into my gaps and scars. Some days I hated the thing I had become.
The door flew open and I grabbed the edge of the sink, startled. "Isaac... You could at least...fucking...knock." I gritted my teeth bitterly, and turned my face to the corner. I felt ashamed and vulnerable and exposed.
"I'm sorry," Whispered a voice. A girl's voice. I looked up quickly and saw Alexis kneel down at the toilet and vomit. Tears of embarrassment covered my face, and absolutely ashamed of my body I covered up with a long towel, before she turned her face back to mine.
She stood up and looked at me sheepishly, "I'm sorry." She whispered, "I didn't know you were in here."
I clutched the towel close to my chest, "You could have knocked."
"I ... I was in a bit of a hurry, I'm sorry. Morning sickness."
"Doesn't that stuff normally happen earlier in pregnancy?"
"Not always." She stated.
"Oh." I said, "What did you see?"
"I just glanced... I didn't..."
"Yes you did!" I accused, "What did you see?"
"Taylor... it's okay. I know already."
"Know what?!"
"That you're... you're... anorexic."
"What?! Who told you that!? I'm not anorexic!" I was shaking. What an assumption to make.
"Well... just forget it... I just saw you standing there, it's no big deal, Tay. I promise."
"It... it is a big deal." I said, "It... I mean... Just leave."
She nodded, the color was now returning to her face as she wore an angry expression, "Fine. I'll leave." She slammed the door behind her and I was once again alone in the bathroom.
I listened outside the door, and a rage built up inside of me as I heard them talk.
"Hey, what happened?" Isaac said.
"Your brother was in there... I didn't realize it..."
"Yeah, he was taking a shower a while ago, but I thought he was out by now - otherwise I would have told you."
"Apparently not. He blew up at me." She paused, "I don't quite understand where he comes off saying he's not anorexic, because it's apparent to me..."
"Al, that's probably not a topic you should have brought up. He's really sensitive about it."
"Whatever," She mumbled, "A boy who throws up his every meal shouldn't be sensitive about someone pointing it out."
"He's trying." Isaac tried to defend me.
"He's got some serious issues, Ike. I think you should really look into help - an inpatient center."
"He's not going to go... He's just going to scream about it. He thinks he's fine."
"Ike, don't you know anything?" She seemed bewildered, "NONE of those people want to fucking be there. Just call the number and take him. What's he going to do?"
"I can't do that to him..." He said softly, "Why are you so angry, anyway?"
"Because he pissed me off." She shouted, "Because Zac would have done something by now, and I'm... I'm... sick of watching the people he loved allow themselves to waste away like this! The kid is skin and bones, and you're a fucking nervous wreck. WAKE UP! You need to get out of the house! You're killing yourselves!"
"Don't get worked up, Alex - the baby..."
"This baby is doomed anyway," She shouted, "Because my fucking boyfriend had to bite the dust on me - remember? And you two are NO help in soothing me. I have been wondering over and over in my mind what I'm going to do, and no one's there to help me. Zac was my financial support! Zac was my emotional support! He would have helped me sort the things out that I can't now! It's complicated when your child's future is fucking blown away... and... YOU CAN'T DO A FUCKING THING ABOUT IT!"
"Al... you know we're here for you."
"How can someone be there for me when... When you can barely take care of yourself! I mean, what am I going to do now, Huh? Drop out of school and work my ass off at a minimum wage job, which will barely pay rent? Never mind support a child or me. You see, Isaac, it's all fucked up now - and you are both basket cases - Taylor, especially - and... and YOU are all I fucking have!"
In the silence I pulled open the door and tromped down the hallway to my bedroom, slamming the bedroom door. I pulled on my clothes and sat with my arms crossed on my bed. If they felt that way, then fine. I don't fucking care.
I packed my bags and curled up on the sheets, waiting for someone to come in the room, but no one ever did. I sat up and reached into the box my parents had sent. Took out the box of cocaine and began to make big fat lines on a provided mirror (how convenient.) I rolled up a dollar bill and inhaled the snow.
That was how I liked it. Spending my nights in a haze. In a world that wasn't real.
They did show up, though, early the next morning, Isaac came in with a tear-streaked face. I was covered in the drug, and hadn't gotten any sleep. I was smoking a cigarette, and he didn't even ask me where I got all of the coke. He shook his head disapprovingly, and I turned my eyes to him.
"You packed your bags?" He said.
"I heard your little conversation." I sucked on my cigarette. "So, you taking me?"
"Yes."
"Great, let me do one more line..."
"Tay..."
I ignored him and did the last line I had made, and sat for a moment with my eyes shut. The exhilarating explosion of glitter and pleasure blasting through my veins. When I opened my eyes, Isaac was crying and holding my bags.
"Taylor. Let's go." He said, his voice struggling.
I smiled at him and followed him out the door with my cigarette in my mouth. I sat in the car, and waited impatiently for him to get in and drive me somewhere.
"Ike, stop crying." I said.
"Tay, I can't believe your fucking high right now. What the fuck... I just can't fucking win with you, can I?"
"You're taking me to a fucking asylum. You already fucking won."
"It's not an asylum - it's a rehabilitation center. It's just until you get better."
"I hate you. God, I hate you. It's the same fucking thing."
He didn't respond, "It's just until you get better." He repeated.
"Whatever, Isaac. I'm okay, and you fucking know I'm okay."
"You are not okay!" He shouted as we pulled into the driveway of a large hospital-like building. "You are not fucking okay! After you get some of your ... issues sorted out - let me fucking know if you're okay, or not!"
"Come on." He said bitterly, grabbing my stuff as we headed into the hospital. We waited around for awhile, but I don't really remember what I did during that time. They asked prodding questions, and I assumed silence again. They didn't know anything. They couldn't help me. It's easy to spout stupid advice to someone else. They didn't see what I saw. They didn't know. They didn't know at all.
I didn't say much, but they seemed to have determined a space for me, and I was taken away from my brother, and being led through huge, bolted, locked doors. A three-week program for now, they said and then they put me in a room with some other anorexic fuck. What was I supposed to do now? I was locked up, pushed away, and thrown aside. I was happy to know that smoking was allowed within the walls, and I smoked everything I had. I didn't really talk to my roommate, he seemed a bit of an introvert. I wasn't comfortable, I was scared, and a doorless room was the last place I had been planning to be.
In the morning, they were going to go through procedures - they told me. I was to get my first therapy session, as well, then they would assign medication (if they felt it was necessary), and if I did well, I could be released after my three weeks, and just do therapy. If I didn't do well, they would request I stay longer (if they felt it was necessary).
I hit myself inwardly as I inhaled the hospital smell that night. Why did I have to be such an ass and resist therapy from that creepy asshole? I wouldn't have to be here, sleeping next to the fucking weight obsessed maniac. My weight problem was not what his eating disorder was.
I put out my last cigarette as a monitor peeped his head in and said "Lights out." The dark haired boy turned out the lights and I lay in the darkness, awake.