A/N: okay y'all have full right to get mad at me for not updating... BUT I've been really busy with the first 3 weeks back at school from the holidays and finally exams are over sooo...
"can you come get me please" I mumble into the phone, my voice shaking lightly.
"Luna?" he questions through the phone as I hum in response,
"are you okay bella?" Damiano asks as a small whimper satisfies his question. No I'm not okay. I haven't been for the past week.
I really can't remember the last time I showered or even ate a proper meal. I spent everyday in bed the past week, not moving anywhere besides the bathroom and kitchen from time to time so I don't starve.
I haven't talked to anyone in the past week. My mom called 87 times, Vic called 20 times, Thomas and Ethan called around 12 times and Damiano didn't call once.
So now I'm wondering, why did I call him first? he didn't call me the whole week or check in but I dialed his memorized number straight up.
I stand up from bed slowly, trying to balance. My legs probably haven't walked anywhere since 2 days ago. My stomach is screaming at me for food at this point but my brain is too tired to do anything.
I hold onto the mirror in front of my bed so I don't collapse and pass out. My eyes catch the reflection though, trailing up and down my body.
I've always been small in size since I was young. It was a genetic trait everyone used to compliment me on "omg you're so thin how do you do that?" but this time, the girl in the mirror wasn't just thin, she was scary thin.
Her clothes were layered and loose to hide the bones that jutted out. But it was so clear just looking at her cheekbones and the skinniness of her hands, this girl was starving herself.
I wonder how far she was from needing hospitalization and how far she was from organ failure. It wasn't hard to see that if she just gained just thirty pounds or so she would be beautiful, stunning even.
How she was now wasn't even attractive, it was horrifying. Her hair stuck to her face, forehead stained in sweat. Smudged 1 week old makeup and dark under eye bags from not sleeping.
Her fingers scabbed up from picking at them, so have her lips.
She looked lifeless.
I peeled my glossy eyes away from the mirror and regained my balance. Walking towards the bedroom door.
Damiano would be coming soon. I called him to pick me up, to where I don't know. I just know that this is enough and I can't be in this house anymore.
I turned back to look at the room. Cups everywhere, blinds closed, clothes everywhere, messy bed. It didn't smell great either. Meanwhile the living room and kitchen looked untouched.
I walked to the sofa to pet a sleeping Garfield. I don't know what I'd do without him. The whole week he lay beside snuggled up against my chest.
He purrs as I pet him as I stand up to refill his food bowl and water. If I'm not taking care of myself I should at least take care of my child.
