"Louise."

Mr. Dorian's voice bounced off the walls like a ball thrown too hard, drowning out everything else.

"Here," a quieter voice called out in response.

"Louise?"

Oh for the love of God... the girl in question thought before repeating herself a little louder, throwing up a pale hand as the teacher's eyes drifted up from his clipboard.

Having been the last to leave the changing rooms, Louise had quickly slipped into the end of the line. Now as her teacher quickly scanned through the roll of names he held, she strained to see down the line of P.E students, searching for a familiar hoodie-clad boy. After a few searches of the row however, Louise's shoulders drooped.

He wasn't there.

Again.

"Alright, today's the first dry Wednesday we've seen in a while," Mr. Dorian spoke up, "so the two-mile run it is."

With this, a multitude of groans, cringes and pointless exasperations rose from the line, not one fazing their teacher. Had Louise not known better, she'd've sworn he was actually grinning.

"Yes, yes, I'm a horrible person," he said. "Now, you all know the drill. Two laps around the all-weather pitch, up the hill for a lap around the tennis courts and back down to the pitch again. Twice. Off you go."

With some dragging their heels, the class exited the sports hall through a side door and proceeded down to the starting point. Louise followed suit until she passed Mr. Dorian, to which he took the chance to speak again, slowing her to a standstill.

"No Warren today either, hm?"

"I guess not," Louise answered with a slight sigh and sheepish shrug.

"I hope he knows this can't keep happening. Missing three classes in a row is really pushing it."

"He has his reasons, sir."

To this Mr. Dorian gave a slight nod.

"Well...I know that too. I suppose some things just can't be helped."

"Yes they can," Louise said, despite the anxious heat flooding her cheeks. "Some things just need more time."

"You're right there. It's something we should all remember," he answered. "Now, speaking of yourself, I know it's fairly bright out there today, but do your best."

"Will do." She nodded with a smile before exiting the hall.

This faltered after a moment however as the morning light forced her grey eyes to squinted slits. It really was bright.

Starting into a slight jog, she made her way down to the all-weather pitch where some students had yet to start, likely still grumbling about the task ahead. After one girl noticed Mr. Dorian stepping outside, she quickly nudged another and their idle chatter died down for a moment as their little group reluctantly set off.

Once she set foot on the AstroTurf, Louise subconsciously increased her pace, but her thoughts were elsewhere.

She knew Warren had his reasons, but that didn't make his absence any less disappointing. He'd promised to show up this time after all. But now, Louise wished he hadn't done so at all. She already knew it was something else he'd be beating himself up over. He was doing enough of that as it was.

Warren had been diagnosed with Binge Eating Disorder a few months ago.

It had begun innocently enough, subtly, out of sight and mind. But it gradually grew into something more than a simple habit, eventually becoming an endless cycle. By then, Warren couldn't stop, no matter how much he wanted to, how much he unfairly hated himself for continuing. It wasn't until he'd broken down outright in the early hours of the morning that his father had sought help his son had denied needing.

Although Warren's physical health was gradually making a promising comeback, his self esteem and confidence was still somewhat in shambles thanks to one thing.

Image.

It was once the least of his worries, but now it consumed his mentality almost entirely. Were it not for Louise and his other friends, Warren wouldn't even set foot in Rosewood Community School. However, attending the weekly class of P.E was a mile-high hurdle he dreaded the thought of even trying to climb. Because where there were people to help him up, there were others ill-minded enough to drag him down, so far without fail.

It was for this reason alone he wasn't by Louise's side now.

Coming out of her thoughts, Louise's mind returned its attention to her immediate surroundings. She was still jogging along the edge of the all-weather pitch, not nearly as far on as she would have liked to be. The cause of that problem dawdled ahead of her, still practically dragging its heels. The small group of students were continuing their gossip without a care in the world for their agonisingly slow pace. Mentally groaning, Louise clenched her jaw in annoyance. At this rate, finishing the route would take forever, let alone completing it twice. Glancing to the right, she found a second pitch for rugby. She took another look ahead as she pondered the decision. Surely they wouldn't care if she overtook them and ran ahead, would they? Mentally nodding, Louise started drifting to the right as she picked up the pace and began to get around the group, only for both feet to suddenly slip out from under her. With a startled cry escaping her lips, Louise tumbled down the slope, stopping facedown in the damp grass of the second pitch. A sudden panic still enclosed her chest as she pushed herself up off the ground a little, but what quickly reached her ears cut through her.

"Oh my god, did you guys just see that?" One girl laughed as she pointed down.

"Heh, need a white cane, Snowflake?" This came from another boy, tone holding a mocking snicker.

Slowly getting up onto her now damp knees, Louise refused to return their gaze. Cheeks practically on fire, she bit her lip and held back any resentful comments that sprung to her own mind, knowing they'd only come out in a choked mutter.

"Pity you didn't have Warren there to break your fall. He would've bounced you back up to the AstroTurf," another girl jeered, earning a chorus of laughter from the others.

With anger joining her embarrassment now, Louise mentally cursed them to Hell and back as she stood up. But her legs were practically numb as anxiety ultimately took hold. Turning to put the clamour of mocking laughter to her back, off went the albino girl with an anxious haste to her step until she disappeared, back inside the sports hall.

* * *

To tell Mr. Dorian she'd felt sick after that hadn't been a lie, but what had caused it wasn't something he'd needed to know. The rest of the day couldn't have gone by quick enough.

Now, Louise was simply lying in bed on her side with a blanket around her shoulders, phone in hand, scrolling through her Tumblr news feed without a Friday evening to look forward to the next day.

She'd sent Warren a message a while ago and now awaited a reply.

The amused smile a short set of captioned images had brought to Louise's face slowly began to falter as she read the next post.

No one loves you.

No one needs you.

No one cares.

Letting out an irritated sigh at this, she simply kept scrolling, only to find a similar post below it, depicting black and white images with dark themes and equally degrading captions. Looking further and further down the page, Louise's lips curved into a scowl, thumb soon threatening to crack her phone's screen as it continued to swipe up its right side.

What the Hell was wrong with people?

A sudden melodic ping from Facebook brought Louise from her angered trance, glad to see it was a message from Warren, tapping it open immediately.

Hey, Lou. How's things? I'm really sorry I wasn't there today.

She started typing right away.

Hey, no worries. Dorian had us do the two-mile run, so, bullet dodged. I sorta fell down the bank though, but in my defence, it looked flat.

His response surprised her however.

But it's not ok, Lou. I'm serious. I broke my promise and let you down. If I'd been there to warn you, that fall wouldn't've happened.

I'm really useless, huh?

Now listen to me, Warren, please, you're not useless. You can't keep beating yourself up like that.

Even if you have to take two steps forward only to end up taking one step back, you'll get there. Trust me. Just don't let this hold you back.

Not a word came through from Warren for a while, but he soon managed to put something together.

...You're amazing, you know that? ...I'll try, Lou. But I don't know how much longer I can keep this up.

Louise's heart almost skipped a beat at that last part, making her bite her lip as she typed another reply.

We're all here for you, Warren. Don't give up.

I'll do my best, Lou. I promise. For real this time. Anyway, I need to go, dad's calling me. See ya tomorrow.

And thanks.

You're welcome, Warren. Talk to you later.

Closing the message box, Louise decided to take a quick check through her Facebook news feed instead, not wishing to return to the toxic posts on Tumblr. Just thinking about them again made her frown in both annoyance and disgust.

"What is wrong with people? There's nothing "great" or "artistic" about self harm..." she muttered, subconsciously scrolling through the page. "It's a serious thing, not something to be freaking romanticised. Why can't people see that?"

Turning some attention to the screen, she stopped by a bright image of a single feather with a simple caption in black writing.

Creativity can solve almost any problem - the defeat of habit overcomes everything.

"Almost any problem, huh?" Louise said to herself, reading the quote a second time.

Problems.

She certainly had a few. They weren't all hers of course, but she shared them all the same.

Warren's mentality towards his disorder had borderline destroyed his confidence in his overall appearance.

On the grander scheme of things, self harm and other conditions were being romanticised by the ill-minded, while others were no doubt believing these disabilities and disorders, these problems couldn't be overcome, that there was no end to the cycle.

What a mentality to have....

The defeat of habit overcomes everything.

"...People need to stop thinking that way," Louise stated as she sat up straight, now searching for something on the screen. "They need to see that they're not alone...that it's ok to have problems and that they can be helped."

Brushing a few white strands of hair behind her ear, she fixed her gaze on the screen, finding the "Create Event" tab. As she went to tap it however, she froze. A sickening feeling had since swelled in her stomach as a sense of panic enclosed her chest.

What are you getting yourself into? Louise thought, her breath coming out in quickened succession now.

I can't do this, there's no way it'll work....

Other hand gripping the blanket still around her shoulders, she clenched and unclenched it anxiously as the decision began to tear her mind in two.

I'll mess it up somehow, and what about the hill path? Just look at what happened today! Besides, who the heck'll show up anyway? This is pointless, her thoughts continued rapidly.

At this, she shut her grey eyes and let out a shuddery sigh, forcing herself to calm down. After a moment, she gave her head a shake, briefly biting the inside of her cheek.

"...Stop thinking like that. Defeat the habit," Louise said, voice becoming firm. "Who cares if you're anxious and lacking pigment? It can't hold you back. And others need to see that too."

Without another moment of hesitation, she opened the tab.

* * *

Opening the car door, Warren stepped inside and settled himself into the soft seat, closing the door behind him. Reaching up to the grey ceiling, he pulled down the sun visor and stared into the small mirror it held. Taking in what little of himself he could see in that reflective square, he ran a hand through his dark hair once. Then again, and again. But no matter how he did this, there were always some strands that refused to sit right. Letting out a frustrated sigh, he gave up and irritably ruffled it instead. Closing the zip of his jacket completely, he brought his hood up and sat back, sinking into the seat. Leaning his forehead on a half-clenched fist, Warren glanced out the windscreen, seeing his father still hadn't emerged from the clinic. After a moment, his green gaze shifted down to his stomach and hardened immediately. He hated what he saw, what others could see everywhere he went. He knew Louise wouldn't want himself to think in such a way, but honestly, how could he not?

Louise.

He hadn't seen her since Tuesday. Wednesday had been a no-go on his part, while she had an appointment the day after.

It was Friday afternoon now at least, another school day missed. Warren had the weekend ahead of him and he hoped to make the most of it.

Suddenly feeling a vibration in his pocket, Warren sat up a little and retrieved his phone. Lighting up the screen, he found a message from Louise.

Hey Warren, I hope everything went ok at the clinic. Listen, I can't stay, but meet me at the park tomorrow, a little before 12:00 if you can.

Before he could begin typing a reply, another quick message followed the first.

Oh and wear that purple t-shirt your aunt gave you.

Well that was...oddly specific. Despite the fact this request caused Warren to arch an eyebrow, he shrugged after a moment and wrote up a reply.

Hey, same old at the clinic. It's still helping, just, ya know.

The park? Purple shirt? I'm guessing I just shouldn't question this, huh? Alright, you got me, I'll see you there.

At least that'll make up for Wednesday, he thought after sending the message on.

Glancing to the right, Warren watched as his father stepped into the car, closing the door behind him.

"Sorry for that," he said as both hooked in their seat belts. "But, the doctor mentioned that there's something happening tomorrow and she thinks it'd be worth you checking it out."

"Sounds good, but sorry dad. Lou's already nabbed me for a walk in the park tomorrow," Warren answered.

"Really?"

"Yeah, and she asked me to wear that purple shirt I have too."

"Did she say why?"

"Nope."

"I'd better not stop you, then," his father answered with a smile to his tone, something Warren simply didn't question as they set off for home.

* * *

Gripping the purple fabric with both hands, Warren gave it a quick tug downwards as he continued to walk along the pavement. With a hedgerow and line of trees to his left, the park wasn't far off now. But for the time of day, there were quite a few people around. Occasionally spying someone he knew, Warren dipped his head and kept going. A part of him wanted to turn around and rush home again, but he refused to break another promise. It was a horrible habit to have.

Hearing footsteps approach him, Warren glanced up to see Louise jogging to greet him.

"I'm so glad to see you," she beamed. "You had me worried there for a second."

"Sorry, I had a little trouble finding this," he answered, a point to the shirt. "But seriously, what's with all the people today?"

"No idea. I guess that's sunny Saturday for you. C'mon, let's get to the park," Louise said, fixing her blue hoodie.

As the two approached the park entrance, Warren noticed the colourful bunting around the lampposts, not to mention a large, equally colourful crowd that had gathered inside the gates. As they became apart of this, he glanced sidelong at Louise, seeing a wide smile on her pale face. Before he could question it, the crowd's clamour was gradually ceased as someone spoke up. Atop the concrete steps and ramp that sat before them all was a woman in a wheelchair, clad in cloths of burgundy and cream.

"Good morning everyone. As the co-host of this event, I'd like to welcome you all to the Quiver of Dreams Fun Run. Today, we'll walk, run and wheel our way through Rosewood Park and prove that our struggles, disabilities and disorders, visible and invisible alike, can't and won't slow us down," she said, earning a chorus of cheering. "We'll begin here and make our way to the far end of the park and we'll finish together. Everyone ready? Begin!"

With excited cheering from most, the colourful crowd set off. Louise took a few steps, but saw Warren stuck in place, fixing her with an awed expression.

"...You knew about this, didn't you?" He received a beaming nod, but his own face fell. "I don't know if I-"

"You can Warren. That's why we're here. Listen, see the colours? It's to show what we're going and have gone through, what we support," Louise told him before lifting a sleeve to reveal two different wrist bands. "The blue, genetic disorders. Green, anti-bullying and anxiety for me. For someone else, maybe PTSD or food allergies. And finally the orange is for self harm, because it's something serious, but can be overcome."

"...And the purple?" Warren asked, smiling now.

"Eating disorders. Because just like everything else, you can get through it. Stop the habit of negative thinking, and you'll power through," Louise said, putting an arm around his shoulders. "Now let's do this. I'll be here every step of the way."

With this, the two set off into the park, following in everyone else's footsteps.

The woodland path was long, but failed in holding anyone back. People in every colour powered through the stretch, determination and support being the only thing they needed.

During their time on the hill path, Louise had stumbled, failing to notice a stray rock. But Warren was there to catch and steady her.

Now the pair were catching up with a man who seemed to be struggling slightly, but his pace didn't falter. Catching sight of them, he smiled wearily despite the sweat rolling down his forehead. Studying Warren briefly, he then nodded to his shirt.

"Eating disorder," Warren told him, following the example he'd seen others set.

"...Then fair play to you. I could barely go outside when I was first diagnosed with mine," the man answered.

"Really? I kinda know how that feels. If it wasn't for my friend, I wouldn't be here."

"That's good to hear," the man paused to take a breath. "What got me out is the fact I learned something. Image isn't everything. What people think of you doesn't matter. It's how you see yourself that counts. Remember that and you'll always get by. Trust me."

* * *

By now, they were jogging the final stretch as more rainbow bunting was draped from the trees, fluttering in the light breeze. As they got closer to the end, they could hear those already finished cheering them on regardless of the colours they wore.

Despite the fact they were sweating buckets at this point, Louise and Warren broke into a run, putting everything in as they powered through the finish line. Coming to a stop with hands on their knees, the two looked up as the same woman in the wheelchair approached them with some papers in her lap.

"Well done you two," she said, handing them a slip each. "This has been a great success, Louise. You should be proud of yourself."

"I couldn't have done any of this without your help, Beth. Thanks again and well done to you too," Louise answered with a smile.

Nodding, Beth went to greet someone else who'd just finished. Louise turned her attention to Warren as he spoke.

"You did this?" He said with surprise to his voice.

"Yep. I saw a problem that needed solving, so here we are," she answered.

"You really are something else, Lou," he told her, then looked at what Beth had given them. "And this?"

"A little something I put together. Something to remember if you ever take that one step back."

Still smiling, Warren looked down at the picture of a feather with a message in black font. Together, he and Louise read it as they left the park.

Disabled or not,

give life your best shot.

Even if you can't hold the bow.

"Don't!" they say "It can't be done! Not by someone like you!"

Brush off these words,

these spiteful words,

as you shoulder your quiver of dreams.

Notch in an arrow.

Draw it back by the tail.

Aim with your mind's eye

And shoot.