THINNER
by
Antigone
Chapter 16
The Chapters
Failure,
miserable stupid horrible failure how could you how could you think you
deserved that feel it feel what they’ve done to you you terrible,
terrible thing not a person a thing an it not worthy of regular pronouns
either you’re hurting everyone or abusing your body with food…
Joe
threw his hands over his ears as if to block out his mind, pacing
violently from one side of the room to the other, hitting the wall,
whirling around, going back across the rug to the other wall, turning
again.
I
didn’t want it isn’t that enough for you! Leave me alone, like
everyone else has I don’t want it I’m scared I’m sorry just stop,
stop, stop telling me I’m worthless I know that already they made me
they were upset and angry and they made me I don’t want to have to go
to some shrink, to have some doctor tell me what I already know that
I’m fine that everything’s fine that I’m healthy, healthier than
most he’ll say I know why is everyone trying to unravel me, my work,
what is wrong with everyone?
The
room swayed; Joe leaned against the wall, catching his breath, fighting
the dizziness, and suddenly felt a wave of sadness, misery, as if the
dizziness was a jolt of reality.
I’m
tired. Tired of being dizzy. Tired of being hungry. Tired of fighting.
Frank…
The
younger Hardy closed his eyes, remembering the argument with his brother,
the warmth of his arm, steadying and firm yet gentle and comforting, the
look of desperation in his eyes as he knelt in front of him, the
tenderness of his fingers pressing the cool cloth against his temple.
And
the anger, the fear, him walking toward the door of the office. His
brother turning away.
Joe,
trembling, made his way to the mirror, looked himself over. Chest too
thick, shoulders too wide, arms too large, legs too thick. Face looked
thinner, that was a good sign, but still…
No
wonder Frank was mad. No wonder he couldn’t stand to be near him,
couldn’t stand to look at him. Who could look at all this filth?
And
there’ll be more of you. Feel that, in your stomach? Dinner. Pasta,
chicken, fruit, vegetables, milk. All forced on you, but you accepted it,
without question! Failure, miserable stupid horrible failure how could
you…
Joe
slammed his fist against the wall, turned, and went to his door, checking
to make sure it was locked, then hurried through his room to the
bathroom, locked his side of the door, then Frank’s, lifted the lid of
the toilet, knelt on the floor, shoved his fingers into the back of his
throat, and vomited into the toilet.
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Disclaimer
The Hardy Boys belong to Simon and Schuster and the Stratemeyer Foundation. The Hardy Boys Fan Fiction authors of the Hardy Detective Agency have just borrowed them for an adventure or two. The authors promise to put the boys back when they are done with them. The authors do claim copyright to the original characters in this story. Please do not borrow original characters without express permission of the authors.