They put me back in my bed after I finished my third shower, I felt the embarrassment that crept on her face. I was fed up with her looking at me that way so I looked away.

I was already embarrassed as it was I didn't need her to make it worse by her staring at me like that. "Honey...it's mom...are you okay?" I felt a tear rush down my face....why now...why was she treating me like this....where was this mother when I was a child.

The doctor came in and walked up to us. "Your son is fine, he just has a slight case of paranoia. Just give these to him once everyday and he should me fine." He smirked (In a friendly kind of way) and walked away.

She sighed. "I'm glad it's nothing to major." She exclaimed. She reached for my arm then quickly remembered that I didn't want anyone to touch me when I moved my body away. She smiled lightly, but I never smiled back. I felt the game she was play was sick and twisted, more sick and twisted then her usual torcher routine towards me.

She drove us home...I opened the car door, my sleeve around my hand. I jumped out trying hard not to touch anything, Pete ran up to me and hugged me. He lay is head in the craves of my neck. I twitched...my eyes widen and the need to scratch grew inside me. "I was really worried about you, I'm glad you're okay" His hug became tighter, I became squeamish.

I pushed him off me and ran into my bathroom. As I ran up the steps I heard faintly "Why did he do that? Doesn't he now that I missed him?!", "No honey, he has paranoia. He can't help it." She invited him in as I quickly undressed and showered again.

After I finished with my shower, I began to get dressed. I came down stairs, she handed me the pills I needed to take and I took two; like the bottle requested. After a while the need to scratch and shower was gone, the mind set that I was dirty was barely there.

"I-I'm sorry for being bold..." Pete said, I smiled and kissed his cheek. He grabbed my hand and we left the apartment for a walk. "I'm really glad you're okay..." I looked down, I felt around in my pocket for paper and pencil.

Pete realized what I was looking for and gave me note pad and a pencil. I took them and began to write 'I'm glad you still care about me...I thought about you more than anyone I have ever thought about in my life...there was even once a sick feeling that you hated me, that you wouldn't except me after what happened.' He read in the pace I was used to, I smiled.

He smiled too and said "I always will except you kid." He grabbed my hand again, intertwining his fingers with mine. 'But do you really?' I asked. "What do you mean?" He asked. 'Would you have actually excited me if there was something terribly wrong with me?' He read it again, the satisfaction I had from him reading, filled me with endless possibilities.

"Are you okay, Patrick?" He asked me, I shrugged. 'No, not really...' I wrote. "I'm here for you babe..." 'did he just call me babe?' No you ugly piece of trash! He's playing you, he wants nothing to do with you because you're just a waist of life! "Patrick?" He repeated, I looked at him the began to write 'uh yeah?' He read, then looked at me.

"What would you do if I told you that I loved you?" I gulped, 'what would I say 'Nothing! You can't speak dumbass' I looked down. He lifted my chin up with his index finger and thumb and kissed me.

I felt my stomach turned and my heart skip a beat...he's playing you Patrick...he's wants things to make fun of you for this when you get back to school, he's. Gonna. Eat. You. Alive! Once he stopped to look at me, I smiled and kissed him again. For once in my life I felt free, happy, excited for what's next in life.

She called me in a few moments later, she had made me dinner and the next day I was starting school again.

Another person, once again trying to get me to eat. I was fine, I needed to stay in shape for Pete, he needed to know how dedicated I was to him, by showing him that I would be skinny for him. "Patrick please eat something...." she sighed loudly. "I'm trying now Pat, I'm sorry I didn't start sooner but...please eat?", I began to write 'I'm sorry...but I can't...I need to look my best' She looked at me with confusion "Patrick, you're not a very healthy weight! You're a stick!" She said concernedly. "I'm not gonna sit here and watch you do this baby, I love you and I don't want this to happen anymore."

Her words stung, like deep cutes being sprinkled with salt. Her logic was confusing to me. Why try now? There's no point! I only had a few years left and I really never planned on coming to visit her. Was she doing this because she doesn't want me to leave her, or she wants me to come back and visit her? Either way, I didn't want to.

"I'm sorry I was so terrible to you before....I know that, that is nothing you can ever forgive me for but I want to try for, for how ever long I have with you..."Then she coughed, and then her cough turned in hacking, she ran to the sink and spit in it.

Her face said worry but she didn't want to tell me. "Oh I must have choked on my spit! How embarrassing..." She said with an awkward smile. I wrote 'Are you okay....that didn't sound healthy?' I gave her the note pad and she read. "Oh no honey I'm fine!" She lied, but not to hurt me to protect me...