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I keep forgetting about this. If anyone gets impatient, give me a nudge. Again, triggering. Please be careful :)
Jack watched as Ronnie pushed her food around the plate, as usual, nothing actually reached her mouth. She had lost so much weight recently, her clothes no longer fitted her, and her collar bond produced marginally from her skin. Jack jumped when he heard the clatter of Ronnie's fork being dropped onto her plate. With a sigh he glanced down at her untouched dinner as she pushed it away. Jack put down his own fork, still staring at Ronnie's plate. He didn't think she was deliberately starving herself, she just couldn't summon the energy or the motivation to eat.
Jack opened his mouth to say something to her, to plead with her to eat something, but soon closed it again. They had had the same argument virtually every mealtime, and Jack knew that Ronnie would just mumble something about not being hungry and then refuse to talk about it anymore, if Jack continued to peruse the matter, she would scape back her chair and walk away. It was the way she always reacted when Jack tried to bring up the subject of her behaviour.
There was a squeak against the floor as Ronnie pushed back her chair and stood. Jack's eyes flicked to her face, as if searching for something, but for what, he didn't know.
"Ron..." Jack began, taking a deep breath. He knew she wouldn't like what he was about to say. She probably wouldn't even listen. Jack tried again, dropping his eyes from her face so he didn't have to see her expression. "Ronnie, you need help," Jack almost whispered. He kept his eyes firmly on the ground, deliberately not looking at her.
Ronnie didn't reply. She blinked at Jack, trying to make sense of his words. Had he had enough of her? As Ronnie continued to stare at Jack, she found his outline beginning to blur and go out of focus. She could feel herself swaying on her feet as the room began to spin.
Finally, Jack raised his eyes from the tiled floor to look at Ronnie. She was staring at him without seeing. Jack then noticed that she was swaying, close to falling. He jumped to his feet, the chair he had been sitting in crashed to the floor in his haste to reach Ronnie. Jack took hold of Ronnie's shoulders to stop her falling, then pushed her gently, but forcefully down onto the chair she had just been sitting in. Ronnie closed her eyes, the spinning was making her feel sick. She could feel Jack's hands firmly on her arms, and knew, with him there, she wouldn't fall.
"Ron?" Jack's worried voice floated to her from somewhere a long way away. Slowly, Ronnie opened her eyes, the spinning, to her relief, had stopped.
"I'm fine Jack," she mumbled, pushing his hands away. In that moment, Jack felt something inside of him snap. He couldn't do this anymore, he couldn't let Ronnie do this anymore.
"No you are not!" He yelled, his sudden raised voice startled Ronnie, and she jumped slightly in her seat. Other than that, she didn't react at all to Jack's voice. "Stop saying that! You are clearly anything but fine. 'Fine' people, don't starve themselves, they don't wake up screaming every night, they're not this withdrawn, they don't push people away like you do, they don't lock themselves in bathrooms, and no one spends every moment of everyday terrified that they are going to kill themselves!"
Ronnie leapt to her feet so fast, she almost fell again, but managed to keep her balance by hanging onto the wooden table.
"What are you saying Jack? Am I some sort of nut case now? Do you want to get rid of me? Have me carted off?" Ronnie shouted back. That was the most she had used her voice in weeks, and it almost hurt to do it.
"Yes! No, I mean, not like that. Not in the way that you say it," Jack argued.
"Then how do you mean it Jack?" Ronnie glared at him, daring him to tell her she was crazy.
"I mean you need help! Professional help. Anti-depressants, counselling, something! I can't do this Ron! I have no idea what to do anymore, you won't let me in. All you do is push me away and force me to watch as you slowly kill yourself!"
"This isn't about you! Just shove me off onto someone else, like you always do and have it over with!"
Jack ran is hands through his hair and down his face. This wasn't going like he wanted it to. He knew Ronnie would not react well to being told she needed help, but Jack knew he was handling it all wrong. He hadn't meant to shout at her, that wasn't the original plan. None of it was Ronnie's fault. She didn't ask for all this to happen.
"Ron, please, listen to me. I don't want to 'shove you off onto someone else', I love you and want to help you, but you're not making it easy. If you want me to help you, you're going to have to let me in. Talk to me," he explained, gently.
"Well I don't, so please, just leave me alone," said Ronnie, her voice weighed by depression.
Ronnie turned to leave, but Jack threw himself into her path. "No Ronnie, you're not walking out of this one. We need to discuss this, either you talk to me or you talk to a professional, either way, we are not carrying on like this. I can't watch you do this to yourself." Ronnie's eyes hardened. She kept her face totally expressionless and looked Jack right in the eye.
"Then don't," she challenged, attempting to push past him. Jack grabbed hold of her arm to stop her from leaving.
"I told you, you aren't going," he snapped. Ronnie glared at him and tried to pull away from his grip, but Jack held tight. "You can't just keep running away! We will have this conversation, and that isn't up for
debate."
"So you're going to try and force what you want upon me too are you?" Ronnie said, icily.
Jack released her arm as if it had electrocuted him, recoiling from he words. Ronnie pushed past him again, and this time, Jack let her go.
Jack stayed standing in the same spot long after Ronnie left. How had he managed to mess that up so spectacularly? What had gone so wrong? Jack knew the answer. It was when he had begun shouting at her instead of talking to her gently. But he had tried that. For weeks he had tried to give Ronnie space, to not constantly be fussing around her, knowing this would only push her further away. As a result, Ronnie had shut him off completely. She hardly even spoke to him.
Even though he knew he handled it wrongly, Jack meant what he said. He couldn't do it anymore. He couldn't stand by and watch as she slowly killed herself, as she sank deeper and deeper into depression with every passing day. It killed him that he couldn't help her, that there was nothing he could do to make her pain go away. Most of all, he couldn't stand the thought, that he almost wanted her to kill herself. Jack hated himself for thinking it, and it wasn't for selfish reasons, it wasn't because he hated Ronnie. He didn't, he loved her. He just couldn't bare to see her in so much pain, and if that was what it would take to end her pain, maybe it wasn't such a bad thing.
Maybe it was his fault she was in this position to start off with. He shouldn't have let her walk home alone that night. What was he thinking? He just let her go. If he had walked with her, then maybe she wouldn't have been attacked. In fact, there was no maybe about it. If Jack had been there, he knew there was no way on this Earth, or any other, that he would have allowed it to happen. He would have killed the man if necessary. There was nothing he wouldn't do for Ronnie. Even allowing her to die.
Ronnie had pushed the chest of drawers against the door, so Jack couldn't burst in unexpectedly. She sat curled in the middle of the bedroom carpet, rocking gently, holding her arm. Why wouldn't it stop bleeding? She was meant to control this, not the other way around. But blood continued to pulse from her arm, and Ronnie, having forgotten how to ask for help, pressed her lips together and stayed silent, praying that the pain would soon end.
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