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Wouldn't It Be Lovely?

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"Oh, wow. I was really... I didn't eat for three days so I could be lovely."

Those words would surely stick with Sid until the day he died. They sang at him at night, ringing round and round his head endlessly. His pathetic response of s-sorry made him want to punch himself in the face.

It was one day not long after he and Cassie's fight ("Oh, wow... Fuck you, Sid! FUCK YOU, FUCK YOU, FUCK YOU!") when he decided to do it.

The first day was, to put it lightly, hell. Well, the first few hours were ok. Sid kind of liked saying no to food. However, it wasn't long - probably around 5 or 6 hours - before it became unbearable. He stayed in that day, deciding to do some coursework instead of going out, but he soon gave up - all he could think about was how fucking hungry he was. He didn't sleep at all that night; hunger pains tore through his guts like a million knives being stabbed into him at once, leaving him tossing and turning until the morning light began to creep in through his curtains. With a sigh, he flipped onto his front, his fist digging into his stomach in the hopes of quietening it a little.

How the fuck did Cassie do this?

The second day was marginally better - Sid played videogames all day, went on porn sites, anything to distract him from the pain. At one point, he went to roll a spliff, before remembering Cassie's "oh... you can't... it makes you hungry". That stopped him. Instead he reached for his water bottle and chugged half the contents down - it was the only substance that would pass her lips during a fast. It helped a bit.

The third day was Monday, and he woke up absolutely ravenous. He had to practically run out the door to avoid his mum's "would you like a bacon butty, Sid?", calling back a quick "I'll get something on the way, thanks, Mum." Once he'd arrived at college, however, the gnawing in his stomach had subsided, replaced by a dull ache - the kind that made him feel as though perhaps eating wouldn't be such a good idea after all. He felt... floaty that day. More spaced out rather than hungry. He stumbled through the day, going from class to class barely even noticing what had happened in each lesson. At lunch, he went to the library, hiding right in the corner to avoid his friends; he'd been subjected to their what's up with you?'s all morning, and he wasn't in the mood to mutter fine anymore. He slept all through the lunch hour.

That afternoon, at his locker, was when it first happened. He'd been trying to find his psychology textbook when all of a sudden, a wave of dizziness had broken over him, making him sway where he stood.

"Sid? Sid, look at me," the vaguely concerned yet still firm voice of Jal had said.

Sid obeyed, leaning against his locker for support.

"Are you ok, Sid?" she'd asked softly.

"Yeah..." At her look of disbelief, Sid tried again. "It's just a bug. I'll be fine in a couple days."

It was a moment before Jal's response. "Ok. Just... try to get some sleep."

"Thanks, Mum." That earned him a light kick in the shins.

On the fourth day, Sid could barely stand at all. His dad stomped up the stairs, shouting about him being fucking late again, only stopping once he caught sight of him. "Christ, Sid, what's the matter with you?"

Sid had told some vague lie including a dodgy-looking burger and throwing up for the last four hours. His dad had believed him, and for once, let him have the day off school. He'd spent the day in bed, curling into a ball when another round of hunger pains attacked.

Fifth day. Wednesday. He'd gone downstairs dressed and ready, telling his parents he felt a lot better, thanks, before leaving for college. By the time he realised this was a bad idea, second period was almost over. He'd been half folded in on himself in his chair the whole lesson, trying his very best to stay awake.

A glance up at the clock - just a minute to go.

"Sid, seriously, what the fuck's going on with you?" Tony whispered... or was it Chris? Sid didn't care anymore. He merely shook his head in the speaker's general direction.

The bell finally rang. Sid tried to get up, but his legs didn't seem to be obeying him - he fell back into his chair.

"Sid, are you feeling alright?" Mr Barkley. For fucks sake, why couldn't everyone just leave him alone?

"Y-Yeah, I'm fine... just need to..." Sid had managed to get up at that moment, and pointed at what he reckoned was the door.

Walk. Go on. One foot in front of the other.

Room... room's spinning...

"Sid?"

"What's wrong with him?"

"Sid, come here, let's get you to the nurse's office..."

And that's the last thing Sid remembered hearing before he collapsed to the ground.

His ears were ringing. Their shouts seemed far off in the distance.

"Sid!"

"Sid, can you hear me?"

"Wake up, Sid!"

"Back off everyone, give him some room."

An ambulance was called for. Paramedics got him strapped into a stretcher and wheeled him in. They checked his blood pressure, and immediately put a line in his arm. Once at hospital, they'd drugged him up to his ears, before inserting a tube into his nose and down his throat.

Lying in his hospital bed, entire body aching, and with his parents arguing about who's fault this was just close enough for him to hear every word, Sid had sighed. He'd wanted more than just to know about the pain – he'd longed to feel it. Under his skin, in his veins, throbbing in his stomach, his head…

"I stop eating until they take me to hospital."

Well, Cass... I guess we're even now.