Why can't you be good for something

A bright ray of light streamed into James’s room through his thin white curtains. He wearily sat up. They reminded him of Lily. James sighs and gets up, checking is body in the mirror. He pulls down his pyjama pants and looks at the cuts. He looked thinner- better today but his legs were still wounded. He sighs, a slight panic crawling up his throat. He’d just have to wear long shorts for a week. That was no problem.

He stands up and gets dressed in jorts and some Spiderman teeshirt that Remus had bought him. He smiled to himself a little. Remus was a good friend. He sat on his double bed as he tied the laces of his red converse. He glanced towards the mirror and scoffed at his own reflection. God, he was such a try hard. His shirt made him look so wide and he looked so odd. James didn’t look like himself.

He stands up wearily and sighs, his head suddenly spinning as he vision goes blurry. He tightly shuts his eyes and supports himself on the wall. He was expecting to feel bad- like he should stop starving. But surprisingly? He felt euphoric, better than ever. It meant that it was working. Finally

A few hours later, the man with curly dark brown hair walked a few paces behind his parents. They looked so happy. James was feeling good- thin that is.

He smiles to himself as he takes off his shirt as they finally reach the lagoon. There was a few other teenagers but they’re doing their own thing. James takes a deep and takes off his jorts. He was wearing loose board shorts that would cover his thighs and oh- oh. James pushed down the urge to cry as he saw another guy. He had straight, gorgeous, blonde, perfect hair and he was so much more attractive than James. Even from the front he was skinnier than James. And he was tall.

And oh god- James silently sobbed dryly. As the gorgeous man turned to the side he was tiny. His legs were thin and his stomach was flat without any ribs poking out. What the fuck. How- how was that fair? James screamed internally. He sat down on some rocks as his parents started to swim. He couldn’t bear to look at the gorgeous boy again.

James felt like he was next to a swan. And he was just some lump of a pig. He was short and wide. Why was the other tall and slim? That wasn’t fair. But what the hell did the word fair even mean?

If James just waited around to look different, it would drive him crazy. He needed to be skinny. Now. As thin and beautiful as that random guy. As thin and beautiful as his best friend. James would make it happen one way or another.

For the next week, James had been surviving on rice and monster. And gum- gum was getting him through the week. He ate smaller portions throughout the day and barely had any snacks throughout the day. 

One fatal summer evening- on a Saturday of all times, James’s scale broke. He desperately stood on and off the scale but it wouldn’t light up. No. No- what if he had gained weight? He couldn’t ask his parents to fix it as they didn’t even know he had it.

James had tried to take out the batteries and put new ones in but the scale just wouldn’t work. His breathing began to become irregular and hysterical as he broke down on his floor.

He had to see how much he weighed. He checked every morning and every night and when the numbers would finally drop, just a little, James would be the happiest man alive. But oh, god.

James had never gone through the feeling of anger and hopelessness that he was currently feeling. He couldn’t weigh himself for the rest of the summer, unless he went into town. But how odd would that look, some guy lugging around a scale?

And for fucks sake, his mum was already on his case about eating. Day in or day out it would either be ‘Oh honey, thats a lot on your plate. Maybe put some back?’ Those were always the days that James actually felt brave enough to eat to his full desire. Or it was ‘James, you need to have some more than that. Can’t have you wasting away, now can we?’

James curled up into a ball, trying not to feel the sicking touch of his skin against himself. Maybe he’d try tonight. It would be a quiet way to go. No one would ever say things that secretly hurt his feelings. He’d never be put between friends and have to ‘choose’. He wouldn’t have to deal with all these things because he simply wouldn’t be there.

He knows it was selfish. And James had always seen killing yourself as ‘giving up’ more than solving anything. That was the thing. He didnt want to kill himself.

He wished he was never born in the first place. He wanted the skin to be ripped from his body, for his entire being to be gone other than his soul. He wanted just one little day where he could go without thinking about the way he looked or how much he ate. One fucking day that he knew would never happened.

James had only tried to kill himself three times. And no one knew about those times. Not a soul in the dark universe that was earth would ever know about those times in his life. Once, when he was 14. And the other on his 11th birthday. And the final time when he was 15. Last year. James had lost it a little when Sirius had turned up to his doorstep and he simply couldn’t.

He knew it was selfish but James wished so desperately that something bad would happen to him. Something really bad, not just little things. He wanted a real reason to feel depressed and angry and anxious all the time. And no one could give him an explanation other than ‘everyone feels that way at your age.’ Bullshit.

James wanted to know so desperately what was wrong with him. He wasn’t ill or anything. There was just something wrong. Something in his heart that pulled and tugged and writhed so desperately to be free. Maybe when he died that urge- that need would be put down.

So instead James sneaked downstairs and stole a few of his dad’s beers. He drank too much anyway. James had never had too much of a taste for alcohol. But he knew that it would quiet his mind and that was all he needed right now. He sat in his room with the door locked and took a swig. The burning feeling hit his throat but he kept drinking. He. Needed. Quiet.

And that was how James Potter found himself drunk and asleep at 4am on the hard wooden tiles of his childhood floor feeling lighter than ever.