Just want to be free

Chapter 1

She lay there, on her bed. Surrounded herself with teddies,pillows and blankets. Her purple led lights dimmed half way so it was darker and not so bright.
She liked the dark, even though she was frightened of it and of what hides in the darkness but she somehow finds comfort in it.

Her hair was in plaits still from 3 days ago.
She wore her usual baggy clothes hiding her figure from not just the world but herself also. 

The blonde laid there, head against her pillow drowning in her thoughts.

'you had way too much for your dinner' a voice shouted in her head.

She turned onto her side to face her wall hoping it would shut the voices out.
'Just do some sit ups, then you won't be so big to have tea, that's the least you can do for how big you look' it screamed at her again.

The volume on her phone swiftly turned up, trying to ignore it.

'Quick no one's up here, just do a few' it begged.

"why me?"The girl constantly kept asking herself. "Why me?"

Obeying the voices, the girl sat up from her bed. She moved deeper into her bed making sure no creak was made. If someone heard her from downstairs, they would immediately tell her to come back downstairs but she knew she could not face people. Alone was how she liked it.

'they don't want you down there anyway, so don't make any noise otherwise they will hear you'

This is what got to her mostly. 'No one cares' is what tugged at her 24/7. She just wanted someone to care,someone to understand her and just someone who showed her how much they could not live without her.

The pillows which usually sits beneath her head was soon moved as she knew if she was gonna do this she had to do it properly.
She shook her head in disappointment of herself as she raised her hands onto the back of her head. She took a deep breath as she pushed herself back against the bed.

She pulled herself back up, with all the muscles and strength that she had in her.

So many thoughts spiralled in her mind, she could not quite put her finger on what was actually being shouted at her.
It was like hundreds of people were shouting and screaming horrible things at her that she couldn't describe what they were saying or she couldnt explain what she was thinking. She could not think straight.

Her chest tightened as she went to do the next sit up. Her hands released off her head and soon replaced them onto her chest in agony. Causing her to pounce back on her bed.

This was too much for the girl. She wanted to get out of these thoughts. She wanted to not listen and feel like she had to respect and follow what they were shouting at her.
She wanted to be free.

'Hurry up and do some more, you want to be skinny and this is your only other option'

She curled up in a ball and dug her head into her knees as tears fell down her face. Her bright red bloodshot eyes started to drown in there own tears.
Her mouth was soon covered by the palm of her hand as she tried not too let out any sort of sobbing noise.

She just wanted to go back to what things used to be like. At least too where the girl would eat a meal a day and exercise constantly. She wanted to go back to that.
She wanted to at least satisfy the voices a bit, it would at least be a tiny bit more satisfied then it is now:

She knew that she would not be able to stop eating, her parents would just not let her and they would keep feeding her and she would have no say in it like before.
Whatever she does, she does not have a say in what happens,even if her parents were to not feed her. The voices would take over.
They control her enough as it is, but a tiny thing like that and the control would be all theirs.

Restricting herself from food. From what kept her alive, comforted her. She felt like it was a must and just like a daily routine of brushing your teeth. She started it one day and just never been able too stop.
That's when the blonde realised it was an addiction, but not just one addiction, there were more as time went on.

Most people around her, think addiction is just being addicted to drugs or alcohol but no this girls addiction was not the same as this.

No one knows half of these addictions of hers. She keeps them close to her making sure no one finds out.
Deep down all the girl wants is help, but she can not ask for it, the help must come too her.
'why did you ask for help for? They don't even care anyway, it was a waste of time and they think your overacting anyway so what's the point. It's stupid you even tried' is what would be tossed back at her, causing her heart to shatter even more hearing the complete opposite of what she wanted to hear.

It all came repetitive. The same thing happened every day.
"same thing different day" she says to herself in private.

She wanted comfort. Above all these strong, distressing words and voices being yelled at her continuously, she had to find her own comfort.
That's where she found her addictions.

She was addicted to the pain she would receive from the hunger throughout the day and heavy breathing and chest pains that would come along with it.
She was addicted to the satisfaction of feeling her bones stick out from her skin and watching as her clothes start to distance themselves off of her.
She was addicted to punching herself and leaving bruises all over herself after any slightest upset or trigger.
She was addicted to the starvation and watching and feeling herself become iller and iller.
She was addicted to scratching her arms and hands and watching the fresh blood scatter around the scars from the times she done it before.

Yet she thought these were her addictions. No. These were what the dreadful chatter from her own thoughts found addictive. She found the comfort in it all and how it felt as she would feed the addiction.

Yes there we comfort in fulfilling these addictions but there was fear from the blonde. She was trapped. Trapped in her own thoughts all day everyday as someone else is always controlling her every movement.
It felt like she was physically trapped in a room. By herself; isolated from the world. And she would watch out the window as her life went on without her and she had no power or control. She had to sit there, lonely and desolate and observe someone take over and destroy her life right in front of her tragic brown eyes.

All these addictions, she felt comfort in. These were the only ways she could cope.
If she cried she would go to them.
If she was angry she would go to them.
If someone made a silly comment she would go to them.
If she felt unloved she would go to them.
If she felt misunderstood she would go to them.
If she felt like she was no longer enough she would go to them.
In any inconvenience to her she would go to them.

And these were her coping mechanisms and that was the problem.

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Heyyy my loves!
This is my first chapter and there will be many more to come, I promise so keep an eye out if you want to read more!
Remember to vote and comment! It would be so appreciated honestly.
if you've read this, thank you so much for your support.

Remember if you ever need to talk or need advice with anything I'll be here to listen.
Thank you <3