Fragile
By Kawaii Cherry Blossom
Disclaimer: I don’t own Pokémon, or the song ‘Fragile’
by Delta Goodrem. The rights to both are property of their respective owners.
Rating: M15+ - Mature themes
Genre: Drama/Angst/Romance
Type: AAMRN
Summary: Taking a break from Pokémon training, Ash
returns to
Ages:
Ash – 18
Misty – 18
Author’s Notes: I’d like to say a big thank you to all
of you who’ve been reviewing this fanfiction so far. I’m really glad you’re all
enjoying it, and I hope you will continue to. :)
Chapter 3
Caught
“In
six-thousand years, what will all this mean?
Words from
the heart, or a melody…
So caught
in emotion and I’m overcome
As I’m
falling down, I come undone…”
MISTY
Where am I? What am I doing? What day is it? What time
is it?
I can’t move, the waft of tiredness that waves through
me every time I try to is too powerful. I think I’ll just…go back to sleep…
“Misty… Are you awake?” Ash’s gentle voice calls
through the door.
“Yeah…” I manage to call out softly, and he walks into
my room moments later, a soft, warm smile gracing his face. He looks like an
angel…
“Good morning,” he says softly, and I nod in reply, my
dull, tired eyes meeting his, which seem full of worry.
Worry for me?
Why would he worry about me? I don’t deserve to be
worried about…
“Are you still feeling tired?” comes the question, but
I think he already knows the answer.
Yes, I’m feeling tired.
Maybe because I starve myself and throw up the food
people make me eat.
Shut up.
He moves closer to me as I nod, and sits on the edge
of my bed, looking down at me. I need you, Ash… I need you to save me… Save me
from myself…
Shut up.
No…
Shut up you fat, ugly, disgusting, imperfect bitch.
“I’ll get you some breakfast then…”
“I’m not hungry,” I say as I force myself to shake my
head.
“But you really should get some food into you…”
Why? So then I can be even more fat? Even more ugly?
Then maybe a few more people will hate me. And then you’ll hate me. And you’ll
never love me… And I’ll be alone forever.
Shut up! I scream to myself inwardly as I close my
eyes tightly, and I feel Ash’s hand on my arm.
“Misty? What’s wrong?”
When I open my eyes, they meet his, but I can’t look
at him for long. I hear him sigh as I look away.
“Why won’t you tell me?”
“Nothing’s wrong!” I scream, using up just about all
of the energy I have, before I sink back down into the mattress. I can feel his
eyes on me, looking on with an intense sense of concern. But what can I say?
There isn’t anything wrong with what I’m doing. I’m just…trying to make myself
perfect. I just want to rid myself of all of my imperfections, so people will
love me. Then, maybe Ash will love me.
But I’m starving myself, and it’s hurting me…
No, it’s not wrong. I’m doing the right thing here. This
is the only way.
“Do you expect me to believe that?” he asks, and he
sounds hurt. “Don’t you trust me?” I ignore his question, I can’t answer.
“I have a fever, so I’m not hungry. I don’t want any
breakfast. And when I do, I can get it for myself,” I reply coldly, and I turn
away, pulling the blankets over myself. His hand reaches over and presses on my
forehead before I have the opportunity to stop him. His touch sends shivers
through my spine, and sets the butterflies in my stomach loose. A few seconds
later, he pulls away and thankfully says nothing.
“Fine…” I hear his soft voice moments later, before he
walks out of the room. I wait to hear a click, signifying that the door is
shut, and I let out a sob, not stopping my tears from falling and soaking my
pillow.
Stop crying, you weak bitch. You’re so weak.
I’m not… I’m not… Shut up…
ASH
I’ve never seen Misty so…so cold, angry, emotional…
Something is gnawing at her from the inside, it seems like she’s having an
argument with herself inside her head.
Sitting down on the couch, I put my head in my hands
and massage my temples with my fingers. I hardly slept last night, thoughts of
Misty drifted through my mind as I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling and
listening to the tick of the clock hanging on the wall. Somehow, I think nights
like those are going to be common…
I remember when Misty and I first met. She was so
fiery and competitive, but that seems to have died, replaced with this girl
that I…don’t even know…
What could it be that’s hurting her? Something could
have happened, but why wouldn’t she tell me? She could be sick… Yes…that seems
to be the most logical explanation. But again, doesn’t she trust me enough to
fill me in on what’s going on? I don’t understand, and I just want to help her…
Wait, I know who might be able to help me…
Standing up, I walk the short distance to the video
phone and pick up the receiver, before dialing the familiar number. Brock’s face
appears on the screen a few moments later.
“Hello? Oh, it’s you Ash. How are ya?”
“I’m fine thanks Brock. How are you?”
“Good. What’s up? How was your reunion with Misty?” he
asks, and winks at me, but his face turns serious when I glance down at the
ground.
“What’s wrong? Did something happen?”
“Well… I don’t really know… But I need your help. I
don’t know what to do,” I say slowly, and he nods.
“Okay, sure. What’s on your mind?”
“It’s Misty…” I sort of feel like crying, the
confusion of the situation overwhelming me, but I have to stay strong… “She’s
been acting very strange.”
“What do you mean, strange?”
“She seems cold, distant, emotionless, I don’t know.
She’s just not herself. It seems like she’s got something big on her mind, but
she won’t tell me what it is. Also, she doesn’t seem…well.”
“Is she sick?”
“She says she’s got a fever, but I felt her forehead
and she didn’t feel warm. In fact, she seemed as cold as ice. She looks really
tired and worn-down, and she refuses to eat, and…”
“She refuses to eat? Or do you mean she can’t because
she’s sick?” he asks, his eyebrow twitching in concern.
“Well…that’s what she said. But it seems like…I dunno…
She doesn’t want to eat.” Brock
glances down at the floor, his mind seemingly ticking with possibilities as he
tries to figure out what’s wrong. But why does he seem so concerned about this?
“Brock, what are you thinking?”
“Let me clarify…” he says. “Misty says she’s got a
fever, but she doesn’t seem warm. She looks exhausted and she refuses to eat?”
I nod in reply, and he rubs his chin with his finger
in concentration.
“Is there anything strange about what she’s wearing?”
“Well actually…” I begin, the question striking me
like a single note being played on a piano in a silent room. “It’s quite hot,
but she’s wearing a baggy jumper and loose fitting pants. I thought that was
kinda strange…”
“Does she look thinner?”
“Well I can’t really see, but her face looks a bit…”
“Gaunt?”
“Yeah, that’s the word,” I reply, a sigh breaking free
from my lips a few moments later at the sight of Brock’s concern-stricken eyes.
“What is it? What do you think is wrong?” I dread the answer, though more than
anything, I want to know.
“I’m not sure, I could be totally wrong, Ash, but… You
know what eating disorders are, right?”
“Where people starve themselves and…” Oh God… No…
Misty couldn’t be…
“I don’t know if that’s it, but maybe you should try
to find out…” Brock adds. He must have noticed the shock overtake my face like
a mask.
“How…?” Shock pulses through my veins, fear driving it.
“Try to make her eat something, and see what she
does,” he instructs. I nod, thank Brock and hang up the phone, though my mind
is elsewhere and I barely realise I’m doing it.
My mind is focused on one thing.
Misty.
MISTY
A whole day has passed already, I notice, as I glance
out of the window to see the darkening sky. Where has it gone? I don’t remember
anything… I vaguely remember waking up, a few times, when Ash came into my
room. But I can’t recall much, I only remember the nightmares that plague my
dreams as I sleep, plunging me further and further into the dark hole that is
becoming my life.
I don’t know if I can do this anymore… I feel like I’m
dying, been killed slowly and painfully. And for what?
No, I can’t ask myself these questions. I know what
I’m doing, and I know why I’m doing it. I’m just trying to make myself perfect,
like all the models in those magazines and the people on TV. Then, maybe I’ll
be worthy of peoples’ love, and maybe they will love me. Maybe my sisters will
accept me as the fourth Sensational Sister. And perhaps…just perhaps…Ash will
love me as much as I love him…
You know, it’s funny. A few years ago I didn’t care in
the slightest what people thought of me, especially my sisters. And Ash… I’ve
wanted Ash to love me for so long, that my heart breaks each time I realise
we’re still just friends. But really, what would he see in a girl like me?
There are so many pretty, skinny and nice girls out there who would give
anything to be his girlfriend. I’m not any of those things. I don’t even know
why he’s still here. I don’t deserve it. One day, though, I realised why all of
this is so. It became so clear to me as I looked into the mirror at my
reflection. I was fat, and I was ugly. And so, I made a deal with myself to
change that, make myself a person that people can love…
But he’ll leave pretty soon, give up on me and move
on, to a perfect, beautiful woman, to a woman who’s not me…
Everyone does. They all give up on me. Even myself.
My stomach growls, screaming for food, and I wince. I
can’t do this! I’m so hungry, I just want to eat something, anything, I don’t
care… I can’t do this…
No, I’m so stupid. I can’t afford to be having doubts,
what I want is out of reach enough without me adding to it. You’re a bitch,
Misty, and you’re fat and ugly and nobody likes you, especially not Ash.
I’m so fat. I’m so fat. I just want to be skinny… Oh
God... I need to get up, go for a walk around the neighborhood. No, a run will
do me better, burn off more calories.
I try to lift myself up, but I can’t even move my
hands, and I give up after two tries, before sinking back into my pillow.
God… I’m so fat… I’m so fat…
Tears spring to my eyes and cascade down my cheeks,
before soaking into the pillow. I let them fall, accepting my weakness as
another part of me that is imperfect.
A few moments later, I hear footsteps, someone coming
towards the door. I wipe my tears away hurriedly, I can’t let him see me cry…
ASH
“Misty, you haven’t eaten anything all day…”
“I’ve been asleep,” she looks away as she replies, and
I put the plate down as I sit on the edge of her bed.
“I know… But you have to eat…” Strange…her eyes are
filled with both longing and refusal as she stares at the plate of food, but
moments later, she shakes her head in refusal and looks up at the ceiling.
“I told you, I’m not hungry. I have a fever, remember?
I lost my appetite.”
Narrowing my eyes at her obvious lie, I put my hand to
her forehead before she can move away.
“You don’t feel warm.” She’s still ice cold… She
really is lying…
“Just mind your own business!”
“And if you felt warm, you wouldn’t be dressed in a
jumper and baggy pants.”
“I said mind your own business! This has nothing to do
with you!”
“What do you mean, it has nothing to do with me? Of
course it does! You’re my best friend, Misty, and I’m worried about you!”
“Well you’re wasting your worry! Just drop it!”
“Come on, Mist… You’ve gotta eat…” I plead. Please,
don’t let Brock be right, Misty… Prove that theory wrong, I’m begging you…
She looks as if she’s going to burst into tears as her
eyes meet mine, and an uncomfortable silence wafts through the room. I hold out
the plate to her, and she looks at it longingly. C’mon, Misty…
Moments later, she reaches for the fork and digs into
the plate of food, as if she hasn’t eaten for a week. She’s finished it in a
few minutes, and stares at the empty plate, an emotionless look crossing her
face.
“There ya go… Feel better?” I ask her gently, but she
doesn’t look so pleased… In fact, she looks angry, disgusted at herself…
“I need to go to the bathroom,” she says as she throws
the covers off and steps out of bed, swaying slightly when she stands. But she
recollects herself and walks to the bathroom that’s connected to her room. I
hear the radio a few moments later. Why would she turn that on?
My curiosity getting the better of me, I walk the
short distance to the bathroom and listen at the door. What I hear sends a wave
of shock through my veins. She retches, and then throws up, before I hear the
toilet flush.
Oh my God…
How can she do this…? Misty…the strongest person I
know…with a possible eating disorder? But wait, maybe she really does have a
fever, and feels sick because she ate so fast…
No, don’t be so naive, Ash…
I’m not going to move. She’s going to have to face me
and explain, and I’m going to help her.
When she opens the door, our eyes lock, fear and shock
penetrating from her stare, and worry emanating from mine. There’s nowhere to
run now, Misty. You can’t hide behind your lies anymore…
To be
continued…
Hehe… Cliffhangers rock, don’t you think? :P
Please review!
Love and light,
Sarah.