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Malcolm wasn’t really sure when he stopped eating, when he started arguing with his parents at the dinner table and avoiding his family. He could justify it in his mind because his family were poor so now that he didn’t eat they had more left over food which in turn gave them extra spending money.
Malcolm wasn’t an idiot, literally he wasn’t he had an IQ of 165 and excelled at school so he understood the basic fact that people needed to eat. Food provided energy to live and Malcolm did want to live but he wanted to live without having to eat.
It had nothing to do with his body, he wasn’t trying to lose weight instead it was more of a punishment.
He really loathed himself and he usually took these feelings of deep resentment to himself out on others but then the guilt started to eat at his body. Food was an easy way to punish himself because the side effects from not eating were harsh.
Besides, in his busy household avoiding food was the easiest thing he could do. He could sleep past breakfast, lunch was at school so no one would check that and then he could allow himself some dinner as long as he never finished the food. Simple, easy, maybe it was the easiest thing he had ever done.
—
Days became longer since he started to restrict food. Not eating breakfast was the hardest since he woke up with barely any energy but then when lunch came restricting became a challenge. How long could he go without eating?
“Aren’t you going to eat lunch?” Stevie asked him the first few times he skipped it.
“I’m not hungry.” Malcolm simply replied.
Then he skipped lunch again and Stevie stopped mentioning it because there was simply no point, he wasn’t going to convince Malcolm to start eating it again.
—
Not eating seems simple enough at first, it just seemed to be avoiding food but then his low calorie life started to have an effect on it. The first problem was when he nearly passed out in gym class, he could see it coming because his head felt heavy and his heartbeat was speeding up.
He stopped and his gym teacher gave him a look of annoyance but he couldn’t go back to exercising. His vision went blurry and he sank to the floor. Malcolm was sent straight to the nurses office.
“How much have you eaten today?” The school nurse asked with her fake concern.
“I had a bowl of cereal for breakfast.” Malcolm lied “And I eat all my lunch.”
She chalked it up to dehydration and sent Malcolm home early, his Mum picked him up and she didn’t seem happy at all. She was in her lucky aide uniform and Malcolm felt so guilty, she was losing so much money from having to pick him up.
He went straight to sleep when he arrived home and he made sure to pretend that he was still asleep when dinner was served. He was not going to allow his Mum to waste food on him after he’d taken away some of her wages. His existence had already caused her enough problems.
That was the first full day he had gone without eating and the overbearing hunger made him feel successful.
—
“Do you think Malcolm has been eating less lately?” Lois asked her Husband as they laid together in bed about to drift off into a dreamless sleep.
“I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about, he’s a growing boy he’ll eat when he’s hungry.” Hal replied, trying to comfort his wife.
But a Mothers intuition was powerful and Lois knew that something was terribly wrong. She had never paid much attention to her son's eating habits before but in the rushed morning she hadn’t seen him eating anything. He woke up like ten minutes before he was even supposed to leave for school.
And far too many of his supposed to be finished meals were now becoming leftovers going mouldy in the fridge. His clothes also seemed to hang off his frame.
—
Reese remembered when Malcolm used to be fun. He remembered the sibling rivalry that was more like torture, it was boring now it had ended. He couldn’t even pinpoint when it ended, all he knew was one day Malcolm was fun and then he wasn’t.
Malcolm also used to eat lunch and breakfast but he’d stopped doing that instead he simply went to school and slept. He had seen Malcolm do his homework during lunch just to avoid doing it at home.
“Where’s Malcolm?” Francis asked during one of his various phone calls, he may not be at home but even he had nothing Malcolm turning into a ghost.
“Probably sleeping, it’s all he seems to do lately.” Reese said casually. “I think he’s depressed or something.”
“Depressed?” Francis said, concerned “Are you sure?”
“Well he doesn’t eat anymore, he’s lost a lot of weight.”
Francis stayed silent over the phone. “I mean I’m sure he’ll be fine.” Reese added.
But Reese himself wasn’t so sure that Malcolm would be fine, he’d been a little depressed before but in his usual Malcolm way where he just complained about everything until the family couldn’t take it anymore. This wasn’t like that all, it wasn’t depression, there was simply no word that could explain what Malcolm was like.
—
Malcolm was jealous, he hated just how much people could enjoy food while he had to pretend to hate it. He watched his Dad fill his face without chewing. He wanted to be like that but it also disgusted him. Food was calories, carbs, fats and proteins everything that kept humans alive but everything he swore he didn’t need.
He had started to look at the calories of the foods he ate and it shook him just how much he was eating. Even dinner could come to nearly 1000 calories so he’d come up with a solution to combat it.
He’d eat half the plate, chewing slowly so it got digested easier and then on his last chew he’d fill up his mouth with as much food as he could and then he’d run off to the bathroom to spit it out into toilet paper before flushing it down the toilet.
A year ago he would have seen it as disgusting but now he doesn't have any negative feelings about it. He was simply ridding his body of empty calories. Besides he couldn’t stop now that his clothes were edging off his body, it gave him a sense of euphoria.
On those days when he felt even shitter than usual he had his collarbone to touch, a reminder on just how far he’d come and if he kept on restricting how much further he could go. Even his ribs were becoming prominent.
He was pushing himself further and further in gym class, far more than what his family could handle but his body was just begging him to exercise. Even when at home he could get an urge to tap his foot while watching tv. It was weird but his body was begging for him to burn calories.
—
“Malcolm, dinner.” Lois shouted, walking to the bedroom door, for some reason he hadn’t turned up at the dinner table.
“I’m not hungry.” Malcolm replied, he was starving really but he wasn’t going to let anyone near him know it.
Lois was perplexed, Malcolm never turned down dinner. “Are you feeling ok?”
“I’m fine, I’m just not hungry.” Malcolm tried to sound convincing, “If I get hungry later than I’ll eat something.”
Malcolm was old enough now to understand his own hunger cues so she left him too . Her gut told her that she should force him to eat something but he would just argue with her and she had spent enough time screaming at her kids.
Lois found that she could only eat half of her own plate otherwise she would have thrown up.
—
Then Malcolm started to skip dinner more often than not, it was easy enough to use the excuse that he was going to Stevies while he actually walked around town. Sometimes he would actually go to Stevies and then make it back home for the time it was an excuse. He didn’t spend a lot of time with Stevie lately, not eating somehow made it hard to be around people.
A day without eating proved to him that he was worthy. It empowered him.
Staying away from food proved a challenge, Malcolm found himself going into supermarkets and looking up and down all the isles with the high calorie foods he wouldn’t let himself have. God, he wanted it so bad. He was obsessed with food.
He took enjoyment out of watching people eat, even scenes set at the dinner table on the TV fulfilled him. Maybe there was something wrong with him, was it even a maybe?
—
Francis came home.
He felt pulled back to the house of his childhood because every time he called there was some more worrying information about Malcolm released. Lois shouting for Malcolm to come to dinner only to no reply and Reese and Dewy mentioning in passing how unfun Malcolm seemed to be.
Francis was certain that Malcolm was going through a depressive faze but he wanted to see it for himself before jumping to a conclusion. And he had to admit that it was worse than he expected.
What had happened to his brother? When had he turned into this shell of a person?
He always saw Malcolm wearing two jumpers and still silently shivering, and he never saw Malcolm eat. He joined them for dinner but he pushed the food around the place, cutting it into unseeable pieces before hiding some in napkins.
Francis could say with confidence that this wasn’t depression, it was a food issue. Could boys even be anorexic, it had always seemed like a skinny girl’s disease but here was Malcolm and he wasn’t eating. The symptoms seemed to match up.
—
“Mum, Malcolm’s not eating.” Francis told her bluntly.
“You think that I don’t know that already?” She replied
“Then why haven’t you done anything about it?” Francis asked, his concern for Malcolm turned into annoyance to his Mum, “You know he can die from not eating?”
“I want to do something but it’s Malcolm, he’s always one step ahead of us and if he doesn’t want to eat then he’ll do everything in his power not to.”
Francis looked at her with disgust, if she wasn’t going to get Malcolm to eat then he would do her job.
—
Malcolm had refused dinner, it was the normal excuse that he wasn’t hungry and so he stayed in bed and tried to study for his upcoming finals. His mind was so malnourished that his notes weren’t going in his head, usually he would be confident that he’d be able to pass the test with flying colours by now.
Suddenly, Francis walked into the room. “I know you’re hungry Malcolm, you’re going to have some dinner.” He was already holding a plate of food so that Malcolm wouldn’t have to go through it in front of the rest of his family.
“Are you going to try and force me to eat that?”
“If you don’t eat this then you’re going to die.” Francis looked him dead in the eye and Malcolm found his arm litter with goosebumps. “I’m not doing this to torture you, I’m doing this because I care about you and the rest of this family are too scared to do anything.”
“I’m not eating that.” Malcolm said, the food clearly frightened him.
“How long are you going to do this Malcolm?” Francis asked, basically taunting him. “How long do you think it’s going to be before this kills you.”
“I’m not going to die.”
“You’re smarter than that.”
“Maybe I have a problem, fine but you don’t have a reason to taunt me like this, I’m not going to stop.” Malcolm said, his heart was practically beating out of his chest. “What are you even trying to achieve here?”
“I want you to start eating again.” But for tonight Malcolm wasn’t going to budge, Francis wanted to force feed him but that was never going to work so instead he waited for Malcolm to hit his downfall.
—
Malcolm’s downfall started with a range of fainting spells, he would stand up and then sometimes fall straight back down. It was so bad that he couldn’t participate in gym class anymore instead he sat on the benches with the kids who had lost their uniform.
He was becoming too weak to walk, everything was slipping from underneath him. His good grades that he’d maintained throughout his whole life were gone and now so was any chance of a social life. Malcolm wasn’t happy anymore, he didn’t want to exist so he decided to do something about it.
He took a razor to his wrist and downed a few pills, he was sure that he had cut over the correct vein to do the job so he smiled when he fell to the ground.
Only a few hours later he woke up in a room of bright fluorescent lights. Of course this just had to happen.