OK writers block has now indeed lifted! Probably updating to much now! Well hay ho you can read them when you can. enjoy
Mi
More and more vomit kept splattering up against the side of the toilet bowl as over and over again I puked. I didn’t care if what I was doing was a bad thing; I had to be sick, I had to keep on being sick and never stop so over and over not even leaving space to breath or cry or think between the sickness I jammed as many gummy vomit covered fingers back into my mouth and down my throat as far as they could go educing the rainbow of vomit to smash into the crisp pure white sides of the toilet bowel.
She had been bleeding… fingers into mouth
She had never cut her self before … vomit enters the bowl
She was very thin, she hadn’t been eating again… fingers jammed further back my throat
She came to me to help her… black and green bile exiting, stomach, ribs, back and head screaming at me.
I had tried but she collapsed… fingers in
Stopped breathing, heart stopped, cold, dead… Whimpering, throbbing heart… no vomit just gagging… fingers went down further…
“Mi, mi honey is that you in there? I heard Esmee shout through the bathroom door her voice soft yet frantic, “Mi I’m going to let my self in OK.”
I stuffed my fingers down my thought as the emergency lock on the door snapped open and watched as orange acid joined the spectrum of colours that now resided down the toilet. I knew I should have stooped, common sense demanded it of me now and it was right, I had in fact thrown up enough, there was in fact nothing to be achieved anyway but beating my own body up and it was also a fact that as soon as Esmee saw what I was doing she would wrap her arms over my shoulders and restrain me into her, however I did not stop. to me right then none of the Common sense bits mattered. I had gone above Common sense to a place where puking was divine, to a place where puking would make me hurt less, to a place where puking would make me a shiny and bright and new inside like polished aluminium. I had gone to a place where Puking would make Bella’s heart start again. So even though Esmee was now in the room with me no doubt looking at my fucked up body draped over the toilet; holding into it like I was hugging my closest friend I rammed my fingers heard down my thought once again and yelped like a wounded animal as every burning muscle clinched forcing something, anything to come up into my mouth where it could join the rest of my badness in the bottom of the toilet.
