Anonymously Sweet -Larry Stylinson Short Story- AU

Part VI

Anonymously Sweet

Warning: This story has a plotline based on males suffering from bulimia. It is highly triggering, and may cause discomfort with some readers. Please take caution.

Part VI: Getting Help.

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Louis glanced at his mother in a hopeless state of confusion. Drying off his wet hands.

“Talk about what?” He asked, his voice was small. Nearly silent to the ears. She approached her son carefully, taking his hands in her own. Her eyes heavy and clouded with tears. Louis. Completely oblivious to why. “Mum?”

“Honey, Stand on the scale for me.” Louis went numb. His body went limp and his heart pumped faster and faster. He stared at her, shocked at the words that had just been rolled off her tongue. “Stand on the scale Louis.” She whispered closing her eyes.

“Why?” He asked. His heart was in his throat, making him feel lightheaded in a way.

“Louis, please cooperate with me and stand on the scale.” Louis felt a tear slip from his eye.

He was definitely caught now.

He retrieved the scale and stood on the deadly item, as the letters shifted. His mother staring down at them.

120.

She gasped, and screamed at the same time, covering her face and letting out the worst sobs Louis had ever heard in his entire life. Tears streamed silently down his cheeks.

“Mum…. Please don’t cry. Please don’t cry.” He begged softly. He put his hand on her shoulder, their eyes finally meeting as she fell apart even more so, wrapping her arms around her thin son. He heard his sisters staring to swarm around the bathroom. Knocking on it, asking if ‘Mum was okay’. And at that time in his life, Louis really thought he truly.

Broke his mother’s heart.

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Louis sat in a hospital room. One of those paper thin blue and white gowns they give you wrapped around his stick like sickly body. His mother in a chair as he sat on a bed. Staring at Louis, as he stared into his hands. Hoping there was some way he could get out of this, but he was officially done for.

He wanted to throw up, not for food reasons, but for his own mother.

He hated himself. He really and truly hated himself now. Not just his tummy.

And Now he wanted to kill himself.

Because he could never ever get out of this.

Nobody would ever let this go. Nobody would ever see the light in this situation. Nobody would ever understand why he did it. Why he was vomiting up his food. Why he refused to eat most nights. Why he felt this way. And now Louis was beginning to wonder why he did it in the first place, it seemed like such a good idea, but after all this. After all that weight loss, he was going to gain it all back wouldn’t he? He’d become even fatter. He’d become a malediction of the human race.

Louis’ tears streamed silently down his face. He felt the bed dip, and arms go round him, as he leaned into the touch. His mother’s touch.

“Why did you do it my sweet boy? Why did you do this to yourself?”

Her words like a faint lullaby. As the doctor, suddenly was in the room with them. Holding a clipboard. Louis silent as his mother held him like a small child. Now he was just small. A crumpled mess.