Demons
Chapter 1
Chapter 1
I was picking at my mashed potatoes tentatively with a silver fork, every once in a while casting discreet glances at my boyfriend sat opposite me. He was surveilling me closely, making sure that every bite made it safely into my mouth. No words had been exchanged between us since we sat down at the dinner table, and the silence hung heavily in the air around us. Every time I opened my mouth in an attempt to excuse myself, Nick would look at me disapprovingly at my intake of breath, and I would quickly shut it again. For some reason, Nick had gotten the idea that I wasn’t eating enough to maintain a healthy weight, which was absolutely ridiculous, since I practically ate the bare minimum amount of calories for a 19-year old girl. So what if I wanted to shed a little bit of weight? He was the one who suggested it in the first place all those months ago.
A heavy sigh interrupted my train of thought, and I cautiously looked up into the eyes of my boyfriend. His arms were crossed and an angry expression rested on his face. “I don’t get it,” he mumbled with a shake of his head. “I work hard. For you. For us. I spend my hard-earned money on food for you, and where is that food gonna go?” he asked sharply, causing me to lower my head in shame. “That’s right. The fucking trash.” The chair screeched along the hard-wood floor as he stood up and grabbed my plate. “Fucking girls…” he muttered angrily as he scraped the remainder of my food into the bin before stacking it in the dishwasher. A huge wave of guilt washed over me as the truth of his words seeped into my bones. I was a horrible person. A horrible, ungrateful person who didn’t deserve half of what my boyfriend offered me. My head fell into my hands in frustration, and I ran my fingers through my already disheveled auburn hair. “I’m sor-“ “Save it,” he interrupted angrily before stalking into the living room where he crashed on the couch and turned on the TV.
My eyes immediately burned with unshed tears, but I shook my head, angry with myself. Why did I always ruin everything I touched? I ruined my body. I ruined my relationship with my boyfriend. I ruined my relationship with my parents. The embarrassment and guilt soon turned into burning anger that flushed my skin and picked up my heart-rate. Without thinking about it, I slammed my fist down on the table, causing the various glass trinkets placed on it to tilt and eventually topple over. “What the-“ Before Nick could finish his question, I stood up and practically ran to the bathroom upstairs, where I locked the door behind me and slid down to the floor. The tiles were freezing, but did little to calm the fire within me. My stomach cramped painfully around the small amount of food I had forced down my throat, and I crawled my way over to the toilet. I could hear my boyfriend’s heavy steps coming up the carpeted staircase. “If you’re doing what I think you’re doing, you’re in big trouble!” he shouted while banging his fists on the door. Even with the wooden door between us, I shrunk away from his harsh words and curled into a ball with my head leaning over the toilet. “I’m serious!”
His words faded as I finally stuck two fingers down my throat, which immediately set my gag-reflex into motion. “Come on,” I whispered angrily, shoving them further down, until my stomach starting clenching violently. Blood was pumping in my ears, I was shaking, and before I knew it, I was throwing up the contents of my stomach. Nick definitely heard, because the last thing I heard before he went downstairs was: “You’re in trouble.”
I continued throwing up until nothing but acidic fluid burned my esophagus and tears were pouring down my cheeks. With a trembling hand I flushed the toilet and wiped the drool on my chin. The realization of my actions dawned upon me only seconds after, and my heart sunk in disbelief. When the hell did I allow this to happen? I swore to myself I would only go on a diet and work out a bit, and when I reached my goal, I would stop. I would never, ever, stoop this low. “Oh, fuck,” I breathed as I placed my head in my hands before angrily wiping away the dried tears on my face. Still shaking, I brushed my teeth and washed my face before mustering up the courage to go downstairs, where hell was definitely awaiting me.
The TV was muted as soon as I reached the bottom of the staircase, and I winced as I made my way into the kitchen. Quickly-approaching footsteps could soon be heard, and for a moment I considered fleeing to our shared bedroom, but decided against it - I would have to face him at some point either way. Within seconds Nick stood before me, trapping me between himself and the counter behind me. He gave me no time to brace myself before his hand collided with my left cheek, which would have caused me to topple over, had he not held me up against the counter in an iron-grip around my bicep. The sting of the slap was almost as painful as the emotional war going on in my mind, and I squeezed my eyes shut at the all-too-familiar pain.
“Look at me,” he whispered angrily and grabbed my jaw. As I looked into his eyes, I saw nothing left of the man I fell in love with so long ago, but deep down I knew that he would reappear as soon as we lay in bed later. So I dealt with it. “If I ever, and I mean ever…” he seethed, tightening the grip on my jaw, “find you doing that again…” He merely shook his head, clearly unable to formulate whatever he felt. “You will be sorry.” I clenched my jaw and cast my eyes downwards. Shame coursed through my veins as I felt my already warm face heating up further. “Do you understand?” he asked, and I unwillingly nodded my head in compliance. “Good.” His eyes landed on my burning cheek, and for a moment I could have sworn I saw a flicker of guilt in his eyes, but it was gone as quickly as it came. “I’m going to bed,” he mumbled, finally releasing his strong grip on me and walking out of the room.
At his release, I immediately rubbed the sore muscles in my arm as my knees started to quiver. Without the will to stop it, I slid down to the floor once more and hid my face in my hands. God, why are you so stupid? I scolded myself fiercely and banged my head against the counter behind me. Not only had I forced myself to throw up, I had also disrespected the boy I was in love with. Deep down I knew that I deserved every slap and every bruise that was tender to the touch. I deserved every yell and every scolding, and I knew that my boyfriend deserved better than me. He deserved someone with a beautiful body and a beautiful personality, and a frown settled on my face as I realized that I had neither. It was honestly a wonder that he still wanted to be with me, but I was determined to enjoy every second I was allowed to spend with someone like him, even if I had to be reminded of how undeserving I was every second of every day.
Half an hour later I was stripping off my hoodie and sweats, turning sideways to cast a scrutinizing glance at my body in the bathroom-mirror. As always, I was saddened by what I saw. My ribs protruded only slightly, and my stomach was not as concave as I would have wanted it to be. I sucked in a large breath and grabbed the scarce excess flab on my lower stomach, pinching until it turned a flaming shade of red with crescent markings littering the skin. A thick lump formed in my throat as I stared at my reflection. I wasn’t allowed to cut down on my daily intake calories, and I wasn’t allowed to throw it all back up. How the hell was I supposed to lose weight? As I continued to gaze into the mirror, the outline of a hand-shaped bruise that had already started to develop on my bicep caught my attention, and I curiously poked it, although it was tinged with a familiar soreness.
A deep grunt from behind the door broke me out of my reverie, and with a sigh I pulled on a t-shirt and a pair of shorts. With a final glance at my disgusting thighs in the mirror, I weaseled myself underneath the duvet, where Nick wrapped his arms tightly around me without hesitation. “I love you,” he mumbled into my hair while his calloused fingers slowly stroked my arm. I found myself curling into his warm touch, breathing in the comfortable scent. “I know.”
I was picking at my mashed potatoes tentatively with a silver fork, every once in a while casting discreet glances at my boyfriend sat opposite me. He was surveilling me closely, making sure that every bite made it safely into my mouth. No words had been exchanged between us since we sat down at the dinner table, and the silence hung heavily in the air around us. Every time I opened my mouth in an attempt to excuse myself, Nick would look at me disapprovingly at my intake of breath, and I would quickly shut it again. For some reason, Nick had gotten the idea that I wasn’t eating enough to maintain a healthy weight, which was absolutely ridiculous, since I practically ate the bare minimum amount of calories for a 19-year old girl. So what if I wanted to shed a little bit of weight? He was the one who suggested it in the first place all those months ago.
A heavy sigh interrupted my train of thought, and I cautiously looked up into the eyes of my boyfriend. His arms were crossed and an angry expression rested on his face. “I don’t get it,” he mumbled with a shake of his head. “I work hard. For you. For us. I spend my hard-earned money on food for you, and where is that food gonna go?” he asked sharply, causing me to lower my head in shame. “That’s right. The fucking trash.” The chair screeched along the hard-wood floor as he stood up and grabbed my plate. “Fucking girls…” he muttered angrily as he scraped the remainder of my food into the bin before stacking it in the dishwasher. A huge wave of guilt washed over me as the truth of his words seeped into my bones. I was a horrible person. A horrible, ungrateful person who didn’t deserve half of what my boyfriend offered me. My head fell into my hands in frustration, and I ran my fingers through my already disheveled auburn hair. “I’m sor-“ “Save it,” he interrupted angrily before stalking into the living room where he crashed on the couch and turned on the TV.
My eyes immediately burned with unshed tears, but I shook my head, angry with myself. Why did I always ruin everything I touched? I ruined my body. I ruined my relationship with my boyfriend. I ruined my relationship with my parents. The embarrassment and guilt soon turned into burning anger that flushed my skin and picked up my heart-rate. Without thinking about it, I slammed my fist down on the table, causing the various glass trinkets placed on it to tilt and eventually topple over. “What the-“ Before Nick could finish his question, I stood up and practically ran to the bathroom upstairs, where I locked the door behind me and slid down to the floor. The tiles were freezing, but did little to calm the fire within me. My stomach cramped painfully around the small amount of food I had forced down my throat, and I crawled my way over to the toilet. I could hear my boyfriend’s heavy steps coming up the carpeted staircase. “If you’re doing what I think you’re doing, you’re in big trouble!” he shouted while banging his fists on the door. Even with the wooden door between us, I shrunk away from his harsh words and curled into a ball with my head leaning over the toilet. “I’m serious!”
His words faded as I finally stuck two fingers down my throat, which immediately set my gag-reflex into motion. “Come on,” I whispered angrily, shoving them further down, until my stomach starting clenching violently. Blood was pumping in my ears, I was shaking, and before I knew it, I was throwing up the contents of my stomach. Nick definitely heard, because the last thing I heard before he went downstairs was: “You’re in trouble.”
I continued throwing up until nothing but acidic fluid burned my esophagus and tears were pouring down my cheeks. With a trembling hand I flushed the toilet and wiped the drool on my chin. The realization of my actions dawned upon me only seconds after, and my heart sunk in disbelief. When the hell did I allow this to happen? I swore to myself I would only go on a diet and work out a bit, and when I reached my goal, I would stop. I would never, ever, stoop this low. “Oh, fuck,” I breathed as I placed my head in my hands before angrily wiping away the dried tears on my face. Still shaking, I brushed my teeth and washed my face before mustering up the courage to go downstairs, where hell was definitely awaiting me.
The TV was muted as soon as I reached the bottom of the staircase, and I winced as I made my way into the kitchen. Quickly-approaching footsteps could soon be heard, and for a moment I considered fleeing to our shared bedroom, but decided against it - I would have to face him at some point either way. Within seconds Nick stood before me, trapping me between himself and the counter behind me. He gave me no time to brace myself before his hand collided with my left cheek, which would have caused me to topple over, had he not held me up against the counter in an iron-grip around my bicep. The sting of the slap was almost as painful as the emotional war going on in my mind, and I squeezed my eyes shut at the all-too-familiar pain.
“Look at me,” he whispered angrily and grabbed my jaw. As I looked into his eyes, I saw nothing left of the man I fell in love with so long ago, but deep down I knew that he would reappear as soon as we lay in bed later. So I dealt with it. “If I ever, and I mean ever…” he seethed, tightening the grip on my jaw, “find you doing that again…” He merely shook his head, clearly unable to formulate whatever he felt. “You will be sorry.” I clenched my jaw and cast my eyes downwards. Shame coursed through my veins as I felt my already warm face heating up further. “Do you understand?” he asked, and I unwillingly nodded my head in compliance. “Good.” His eyes landed on my burning cheek, and for a moment I could have sworn I saw a flicker of guilt in his eyes, but it was gone as quickly as it came. “I’m going to bed,” he mumbled, finally releasing his strong grip on me and walking out of the room.
At his release, I immediately rubbed the sore muscles in my arm as my knees started to quiver. Without the will to stop it, I slid down to the floor once more and hid my face in my hands. God, why are you so stupid? I scolded myself fiercely and banged my head against the counter behind me. Not only had I forced myself to throw up, I had also disrespected the boy I was in love with. Deep down I knew that I deserved every slap and every bruise that was tender to the touch. I deserved every yell and every scolding, and I knew that my boyfriend deserved better than me. He deserved someone with a beautiful body and a beautiful personality, and a frown settled on my face as I realized that I had neither. It was honestly a wonder that he still wanted to be with me, but I was determined to enjoy every second I was allowed to spend with someone like him, even if I had to be reminded of how undeserving I was every second of every day.
Half an hour later I was stripping off my hoodie and sweats, turning sideways to cast a scrutinizing glance at my body in the bathroom-mirror. As always, I was saddened by what I saw. My ribs protruded only slightly, and my stomach was not as concave as I would have wanted it to be. I sucked in a large breath and grabbed the scarce excess flab on my lower stomach, pinching until it turned a flaming shade of red with crescent markings littering the skin. A thick lump formed in my throat as I stared at my reflection. I wasn’t allowed to cut down on my daily intake calories, and I wasn’t allowed to throw it all back up. How the hell was I supposed to lose weight? As I continued to gaze into the mirror, the outline of a hand-shaped bruise that had already started to develop on my bicep caught my attention, and I curiously poked it, although it was tinged with a familiar soreness.
A deep grunt from behind the door broke me out of my reverie, and with a sigh I pulled on a t-shirt and a pair of shorts. With a final glance at my disgusting thighs in the mirror, I weaseled myself underneath the duvet, where Nick wrapped his arms tightly around me without hesitation. “I love you,” he mumbled into my hair while his calloused fingers slowly stroked my arm. I found myself curling into his warm touch, breathing in the comfortable scent. “I know.”
please dont tell me thats the end!!!!!!!
3/22/16