Prolouge

Christmas dinner was loud and happy. It was snowing outside. To anyone watching it would have looked like the perfect Christmas card picture, but the trained eye knew better. The trained eye could see the hidden glances directed at the shortest member of the group, who ate slower than the rest of them. The eye might also have noticed this member slipping food from his plate into his pocket, not eaten and never would be. This was done in habit. A habit that had lasted so long that he hardly noticed he was doing it. If he had
noticed, he would have stopped. Maybe.

"That was a lovely meal," Davys Grandfather complimented, leaning back from the table. "This has been an excellent Christmas, the best one I've had in ages."

They all mumbled their agreements.

Mike stood up, "Well, I suppose someone has to make a toast to something, and I think I have to perfect thing to toast." He turned to Davy. "To Davy, who's been through some pretty heavy stuff this year, but he's had the courage to get through it."

"And to you fellas," continued Davys Grandfather, "The way you helped Davy through it was amazing, it can't have been easy for you, I know how stubborn my grandson is!"

They all laughed and raised their glasses, apart from Davy. He looked down at the table, not participating in the chatter, the record they had playing suddenly skipped:  You'd laugh,while I cry-while I cry-while I cry-while I cry...

To Be Continued...

The mirrors image distorted, eyes sinking in and bones jutting out. Davy turned away but there were mirrors on all sides of the room, no walls, just mirrors, reflecting a skeletal creature, a half dead monster, a shadow of his former self.

Davy closed his eyes as the room spun, faster and faster, and then it vanished, and instead, Davy was in the Pads bathroom, standing on the scales and the numbers were unbelieveably high! But then he was back at the hospital and skeletal creatures like the one from the mirror were trying to smother him, to drag him down, clawing at him, wanting him to become like them!

They pulled him down into the darkness, and their words muffled as if he were underwater, then suddenly, out of the dark two bright lights, like head lights, and a horn blasted, making his ears feel as if they
would burst...

Peter was standing over him. Normally it would be Micky that he would see when awakened from a nightmare, but both Micky and Mike were at a party and Peter was sleeping in Mickys bed for the night, to keep him company.

"Davy, are you alright?" Peter whispered, although there was no one in the house who would be woken by loud noises.

Davy nodded, glad the the darkness hid his tears.

"You... you were yelling..." Peter said hesitantly.

"Was I? Micky says that I yell sometimes... I didn't know if he was telling the truth 'cause you and Mike never heard."

Peter bit his lip, there were many times that he and Mike were kept awake, listening to Davy talking in his sleep, wondering to each other what he was dreaming.

He sat down on the bed, leaning in close he whispered, "What do you dream about Davy? Micky says you have nightmares a lot. What are they about?"

Davy sighed, "Everything. Gaining weight or losing weight... or goingback to the hospital, some are about... Dawn..."

"You don't... you don't feel guilty about what happened to her, do you?" asked Peter.

Davy looked away and shook his head, "No, not guilty. It's just... all the people in the Psych. Ward, they all deserve better lives. They shouldn't have to go though all that stuff, no one should... did you know that there's a 13 year old girl in there who only weighed 28 kilos?!"

"Well, you know Davy. you got down to 35 kilos and you're alright now."

"No!" Davy said angrily, "That's the point, I'm not alright. You have no idea how much food still freaks me out! I don't think I'm ever going to get used to eating properly!"

"Uh...sorry?" asked Peter apolegetically.

"No, it's not your fault Peter... actually, did I ever thank you guys? Imagine it Peter, I could have died! If you guys hadn't been there for me all through it...you remember what Mike said a few weeks ago, at
Christmas? About how I've been brave and I'll be ok. Do you really think that's true? Do you really think I'll be ok?"

Peter didn't jump to answer, not as other people would have, he always thought his answers through. Davy liked Peters way best.

"I think," Peter started slowly, "That if you really want to get better, then you'll be ok."

Davy looked guilty, "What if i don't really wan't to get better?"

To be continued...

Peter shook his head in the darkness, there was only one answer, "You've got to want to."

Davy sighed, "I know," he said defeatedly.

"Good," said Peter, "Do you think you can sleep now?"

Yeah, sure." Davy smiled slightly. Peter was pretty good at playing father-figure. If Mike didn't already have the job, he'd nominate Pete.

Peter got up and started to walk over to his bed but paused and turned, "You know Davy, that's the first time you and me have really talked about... about you being sick."

"About me having an eating disorder," Davy corrected.

"Yeah," said Peter, "...you can talk to me any time you want, you know that?"

Davy nodded, "Thanks Pete."

Davy lay back down and pulled the blankets up around him. He listened to Peter getting back into bed as he drifted off to sleep, only to be awoken a few hours later by the telephone ringing. He heard Peter getting up to answer it, mumbling about who would be calling
at this time of night, so he rolled over and quickly fell back asleep. Next thing he knew, someone was shaking him and saying, "Davy? Davy are you awake?"

"No," he moaned.

"Davy, wake up," Peter's voice said.

"Why?" Davy asked groggily.

There was a long silence. Davy opened his eyes and looked up at Peter, to his surprise, Peter had tears in his eyes. He sat up quickly and his head spun for a moment but he ignored it, "What's wrong? What happened? Who was that on the phone?"

Peter blinked the tears away, "it was Mike, we have to get to the hospital."

"Why?" Davy asked, fear in his voice.

"I'll explain on the way, get dressed quick."

Peter left the room to get dressed himself. Davy jumped out of bed and pulled on jeans and a t-shirt.

"Come onDavy," he heard Peter call.

As Peter unlocked the doors of the Monkeemobile he glanced at Davy, "You sure you don't want to grab a coat?"

Davy willed himself to stop shivering, "I'll be ok."

He slid into the front passenger seat, where Peter normally sat, and Peter slid into the drivers seat, where Mike normally sat, and started the car. There was silence for a few minutes as they drove.

"So what happened?" Davy asked finally.

"There was an accident..." said Peter hesitantly, "You know how Mike's friend Paul was going to drive Micky and Mike home."

It wasn't really a question but Davy nodded.

"Well... apparently he had a bit too much to drunk, and... he..."

"What?" asked Davy, biting his lip.

"The car... hit a tree."

To Be Continued...