Post by CALEB ALEXANDER CHEVALIER on Dec 30, 2010 19:01:40 GMT
just look at me, look at me now.
i'm a fake, i'm a fake, i'm a fake, i'm a fake
It was just one of those days. Caleb had no idea why he had managed to get out of his bed. He had acomplished nothing but sulking and feeling sorry for himself. But it was the norm. Just another week in this horrible place, but, anything was better than home, he guessed. He wasn't getting the shit beat out of him here. But he was just as alone. No one had bothered to make friends with him, but he was used to it. It wasn't like he had friends in France, either. He guessed it would just always be like this. He was just born to be a lonely person.
It was only Caleb's own apathy talking.
So, what was our little emo kid doing at the time? Eating. Yeah, who knew. He had gotten to the point where his blood sugar was so low that he had to eat. Stupid diabetes. He had went to the nurse about it and she made sure he ate, which, he was happy to do, if it made him feel better... He just had to go throw it up, right? He finished nibbling on the peice of toast and felt some what better. He was finally released after they thought that he was going to hold it down. Idiots.
Caleb started walking back to his dorm, his eyes darting around to make sre no one was around him. People made him too jumpy and skittish. Sometimes, Caleb would even wait until the halls cleared out before leaving his classroom. He really was pathetic. Before he ever got to where he was going to go, he put his back to the wall and slowly slid down, putting his head in his hands, he tried to get a hold of himself. He was so broken. The marks on his wrist reminded him of it every day. He just wanted to get out and be free. He wanted to feel alive again. For a few moments, it was nothing but quiet, until his phone started vibrating. He looked at the screen to see who was calling. It was his brother, Brandon, who he decided to ignore. It wasn't like Caleb even wanted to talk to the prick. He was probably wanting to make Caleb's sorry existence worse. But Caleb could only get away with being so mean to him. Brandon had black mail on Caleb. He knew Caleb was gay, because of the fact that he hacked into his journal, which was a total invasion of privacy. And if he was mean to Brandon, he would tell his parents, and Caleb really, really, really didn't want that.
Cause then everyone would just be pissed at him.
He stood up, knowing where he had to go. Shoving his hands in his pocket, he walked to the bathroom door, holding his breath, he peeked in to see if anyone was there. When he was sure no one was in there, he walked into, keeping his arms wrapped around his underweight torso. Walking into the stall, he didn't even give time to lock the door before he dropped his bag and purged himself. It was never fun, but it made him feel so much better. It was something in his life he could control. Being bulimic was something no one could tell about him, being he was only slightly underweight and no one ever caught him doing it, except for his parents, which was the reason he was sent here Besides his drug use and cutting...
But that was besides the point.
When he was finished, he flushed the toilet, slid down the stall wall again, and wrapped his arms around himself, shaking and trying his best not to start crying. The unspilled tears threatened to topple over, and eventually, then won. He shook his head at himself. "Get a fucking hold of yourself." The French boy scolded himself. With a few deep breaths, he regained his composure and walked outside of the stall and to the sink where he decided he should wash his mouth out. The taste of puke was gross and Caleb was a clean freak, so it made sense.
