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My heart is beating so fast out of my chest, I'm pretty sure I'm going to throw up. My anxiety is over the roof. And I haven't even gotten to my dorms yet. Dad's car hasn't moved from its spot, but I know he's not going to walk with me for any reason.
I'm in college. I'm supposed to be independent and not mid anxiety attack. “Are you sure I can do this? 8 don't really believe in myself right now." I turn to dad with my signature puppy dog eyes. For the first time since I was born, they're turned down. “You'll get used to it. You know, enjoy it. Play a sport or join a club. Please don't be holed up in your room all day." “Well you sure as hell didn't teach me how to socialize," I whisper because I know dad hearing that will cause a fight. “Will do. I'll try my very best." I know dad is in that car itching to hug me. If he does, I'll latch on him and never let him go. Not caring that I'm 21 years. “Bye son. Love you." We look at each other and laugh. “Goodbye miscreant. Drink responsibly." I wave even though I'm a few seconds from bursting out in tears and begging dad to take me back to the hospital. I'm a big boy so I'll cry in the bathroom once I'm settled and the reality of what I've done hits me hard. He zooms off and I watch the car till it's out of sight. My anxiety comes back. It was because of this anxiety that I started school weeks late. I drag all my belongings down to Hall 8. I packed everything in my house except Sheila my turtle. Sikes, her name is Voldemort. I just get ashamed to tell people that actually her name. I started calling her Sheila because that was the name of the woman at the desk in the Vet's office. There's someone at the desk but I have no idea if that's the dorms master or not. I walk up to them. It's a man who looks like he's in his 50's or thereabout. I smile at him politely. “Hey. I'm Victor Andrez. Freshman year in college.“ As he types, I take a look round his little space. The paint job on the wall is peeling, there's a nice carpet under my feet and there's a picture of some person hung not really far from the man's head. All that information isn't necessary, but I still take note. " Victor Andrez. I've found you. Room 24. Here's the key.“ I stretch out my hands to collect a single rusted key. It looks like it could break at any time. Hopefully not in the key hole. " Thank you,” I say and start trying to haul my things to my room. The elevators are out of service so I'm standing at the bottom of the stairs with 5 different bags and boxes to be lifted. “You look like you need some help." I freeze. Completely hoping that that person isn't talking to me. There isn't any reason for someone to talk to me. Am I smelling or stained? I knew I shouldn't have had mayonnaise with my hotdog. “Hey." They are talking to me. I only realize that because the most beautiful person I've seen is in front of me. "You're resuming late. We've all settled in. What happened?." “Uh. Things. Events. I was caught up doing events." Shut up brain. Apparently hot guy over here has no problem with my spilling. “I had a problem but I'm all good now." I am finally able to will my mouth to say. “I'm glad. I'm Gideon." He stretches out one hand to take my hand and the other to take one of my many bags. I give him the heaviest and his 'oof' makes me feel so guilty. “I'm so-" “It's okay. I'm just surprised. You don't look like you own many clothes." My brain doesn't know how to interpret the sentence. I just smile still standing there awkwardly, with my hands at my sides. I don't even know how I'm supposed to stand. I'm so self conscious I would've gladly jumped into a pit if opportunity presented itself. “So," Gideon is still talking to me. “Which dorm are you in? Hopefully it isn't at the top floor." I'm about to apologize again but he stops me. “I'm in Hall 8. Room 24." “Yes. You're in our dorms. I knew it." I'm so confused. “Knew what? There was something to know?" “I saw you from afar and I knew you had to be the last man we've all been expecting." My palms are sweating furiously. “Who's we?" “They're 6 people in each dorm room. You're the last one." I'm sure I die a little. Gideon leads me to our dorm. He shows me some spots that I could use. Crazy of him to point out a gym. If he hates my spaghetti arms, he's not the only one. In front of the door, I want to do a countdown to soothe my nervous muscles in the least. I should've run that plan by Gideon because he throws the door open. “I have found our dorm's missing piece, “ he announces as he enters the room. There is no hooting and hollering as is expected of college students, so, I know, there is nobody in there. I enter and gasp so loud my heart almost short circuits. There are two guys in the common area. One is on one of these couches in their make believe living room. While, the other one is eating cereal on the floor. The look at me like I just grew two extra pairs of head. “So, this is, wait, I don't even know your name." Gideon places his hands on my shoulders, pushing me further into the room. I was hoping there wouldn't be any need for introductions. “I'm Victor but please call me Vicky." “Why?" The cereal eater shouts. It's so loud I flinch a little. “That's a nickname Magnus. Deal with it. I'm Jesse." Magnus stretches his hand out for a handshake. Because I'm trying my very best to be a normal person, I take it. Should I smile? I'm not an expert in social situations so I stare deep into his eyes I can see my reflection. Apparently it's a weird thing to do because it's weird in the room. Jesse uses the other hand not being held captive to ruffle his hair. I bite down the urge to put my fingers through it, not because it's romantic but because he's messy. I let go finally. “I'm tired now. Can I go to my room?“ It's Gideon I'm looking at but it's Jesse who offers to take me. I hear Gideon say something about being late for classes. There's a small hallway from the common area. There are 3 doors on each side, labeled 1 to 6. I expect I would be in 6, but, Jesse was standing in front of door number 4. He opens the door and I'm welcomed to a garbage dump. " Sorry about the mess. We just didn't think you were coming again so I got a little too excited about having a room all to myself. “ He tries his best to push all the fastfood wrappers and dirty laundry to one side. The cigarettes are thrown out the window. I want to tell him I don't care that he smokes but I don't. " I'll let you get settled in and everything. Once again, welcome to college. “ He never told me the first time, but who cares? I return the smile on his face.I wake up not dreading the day because Ander is by my side. I turn, moving closer to him and inhaling more of his scent. It's so intoxicating, it does nothing to help my morning wood. I can't do anything about it though because since I agreed to be his friend, Ander hasn't made a move on me sexually. Yes we cuddle and feed each other and can't get enough of the other's presence, but nothing sexual. I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad one. Ander shifts in the bed too, turns to face me but isn't awake. I stare at his peaceful face. He never looks like this when he's awake, always has his face scrunched up like an unlubed butt plug was shoved in his ass for too long. I'm tempted to push the curls off his face and I do. Passing my fingers through in a faux attempt to untangle the strands. As much as I hate to admit it, Ander is the reason I'm on this bed right now. If not for him, I probably would be a rotting corpse in the bathtub. Sometimes I consider telling him this truth
If anybody were to call me a crazy person, I wouldn't fight them. Instead, I'd give them a trophy for telling the truth. I am a crazy person, and this realization is driving me even crazier. Why am I crazy? I'm crazy because I'm parked in the driveway of my girlfriend's house. Evana was the 3rd year film student I spilled my drink on when I was drunk off my ass at a party. Unlike the expected reaction, she apologized to me instead and sat with me till I sobered up. She's funny and interesting but I never liked her romantically. I still don't, but somehow it feels like there's this pressure on my shoulders to be perfect. I see Ander with his mood swings and tantrums — things that make him the dysfunctional person he is. But I can't be like that. I'm to be the better son. And the better son likes women. Evana comes out of the house in her usual clothing. A cottage skirt, shirt just a size smaller than hers and loafers. She's modest yet incredibly sexy and I should feel something for
I'm pacing the driveway, my fingernail in my mouth. I don't know, or rather, I know. Heck, what am I even saying?I stare at the keys in my hand. I want to go, but I shouldn't. He hates me, and I don't blame him. But I need to see him. It's an urge so strong my hair is standing like I've been electrocuted. Archer asked me where I was headed this morning and I told him to go fuck himself. His brows creased, not very glad my response was crude. But, it's not my fault. It's one of those days I can't get a single thought in my head. It's hyper fixating on Vicky. My brain that is. And no matter what I do, I can't get it to stop. It's like I'm buzzing so much I'm vibrating. "Are you alright?" My brother yells from the balcony. My balcony. My safe haven. I flip him off and gain enough motivation to get on my bike. I don't drive like a mad man like I normally do. Maybe if I drive slowly, by the time I get there, Vicky would've left for classes and I won't have to face him. Archer's apart
It's yet again the same routine. Wake up, lie in bed till my intestines threaten to rip into pieces then go downstairs. Archer has been feeding me, yes. But sometimes I just can't keep the food in. Last night was one of those times. I puked so much, it took my lungs a whooping 45 minutes to recover. And I tried taking a little whiskey to help with the nausea, but the ass wouldn't let me touch anything. I don't know why he bothers or why it bothers me. I always ask myself questions. Does he care? But I know he doesn't. It's so I'll keep his secret. Today's meal is the leftover pizza from last night. There's 3 slices on a plate, a fruit bowl and yoghurt waiting for my consumption. "There's no need. This isn't a very wise bribe." Archer doesn't answer me, but continues staring at the pizza in the microwave. I shrug and eat. My stomach twists, surprised by the intruders, but I force it down my throat. I felt like I was going to die last night. And honestly, I really don't like that fe
Oh my goodness. I'm awake again. It's not a good thing to dread it, but I do. I wake up starving and run to the kitchen for anything edible or closely related to food. Archer has had groceries sent to me twice so far, so there's a decent amount of ingredients to choose from. I snack on the unopened tube of Pringles before making a cereal then an omelette then some toast. I may be eating a lot, but don't look it. I'm still skinny and maybe even paler than I was before. Checking my class schedule, I have 3 classes today, the first one starting in about an hour. I could skip, like I've been skipping but it's about time I go back to living a normal life. Nothing about the last few months have been normal, and I'm trying to end the trend of crazy. I take a relaxing shower and apply my makeup. It's minimal, just to hide the eye bags and my droopy cheeks. After one last fit check, I leave. My taxi is waiting for me right on time but I get to the class a little late. The professor allows
I would've stayed asleep longer, but the growling coming from stomach or the gnawing of my intestines steal the sleep from my eyes. I roll around a couple times, and search on the nightstand for anything edible I might've left on it. There's nothing there. Few days ago, I googled why I didn't have an appetite. It was concluded — by website links that had already turned purple — to be anorexia. The only problem with believing that, is that I'm not actually anorexic, or I don't think I am. I would say I don't have a distorted body image, but I don't think i have an image at all. I've sort of been living in this bubble for a while now. A bubble where I exist and don't at the same time. A therapist would have answers to all this shit, I just need to get one first. I drag myself up, and to the bathroom. While on the toilet seat, I stare at the mirror staring at me. I'm speechless. That isn't me, is what I would've said if I didn't know it was me. Sunken cheekbones, hollow eyes, scars ev
My phone is in my hands as I stare at it. The lecture ended a few minutes ago, but I can't get myself to stand up. I'm to visit Archer today. I don't really want to, but mom says I should. I can't be a disappointment at all things. My initial plan was to visit Marcus. Just drown myself in earthly
I know I'm awake, but my eyes refuse to open. I'm sporting what is hinting at a migraine at this point. Aubrey, as expected is calling me. I reach out to grab my phone, but instead I push it off the nightstand. I grunt, struggling to get it. Jesse comes inside, sees my peril and grabs the phone fo
I can't tear my eyes away from either of them. I don't know what they're saying, but I feel like I shouldn't know. My head is spinning and I feel so nauseous. The level of attachment I have to Vicky is insane. Unhealthy too, but primarily insane. I call after Jesse as he goes upstairs. "Hey babe.
It's 11:47 am right now. I've been up since 5 a.m because of Jesse. Today is Ander's birthday and he's planned a huge surprise party. Ander as usual went out for a party. Jesse is a hindered percent sure he won't be conscious till noon, so we don't have to worry about interruptions. "Vicky, have y







