I'm Sorry I Can't Be Perfect

Title from Simple Plan song. Anyway, I wrote this a little while ago, and looking back I don't even know why. Heavy involvement of eating disorders! And therefore could be triggering. Anyway. May delete this. Maaaaan

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6. Chapter 6

 

In no time at all, I was whisked away and soon having an x-ray in a dark room, whilst Jared waited outside patiently. He was just outside the door; I could see him tapping his foot in the gap underneath the door. And then, the tapping stopped, the shadows disappeared. He had gone, and I was left to have an x-ray with a scary looking lady with whom I had obviously never met before. I wondered where he was. The whirring of the machines began, and I looked earnestly to the door, to see if Jared had returned. Where was he?

 

I began by waiting outside the x-ray room, but after a couple of minutes I noticed Dr Hart walk past. I called after him. If she wasn’t going to explain, I was. I was not going to let her carry on with this. Not any more.

 

In minutes, the procedure was over, I had been bandaged up, and I hobbled out, looking in all directions for Jared. To my left, he was standing in the corridor with Dr Hart, and they seemed to be in deep conversation. He did look a fool holding my bag though, which made me chuckle. He must have heard, and he whipped his head up, and rushed over to pick me up.

 

“You really don’t have to do that, Jared.” I protested. “I can walk perfectly fine, I promise!”

 

“I don’t want to take the risk,” he said simply as he walked back over to Dr Hart. The doctor smiled at me.

 

“Right then, Kayleigh. Let’s get you back to a room and we’ll get your x-ray as soon as possible. Jared, if you wouldn’t mind, could you take Kayleigh to Room 14, on the west wing? I’ll be there as soon as these x-rays come through.” With that, he beamed and walked away. Jared began to head in the direction of the west wing, unsmiling.

 

“What were you two talking about?” I asked curiously.

 

“Huh? Oh, we were talking about you.” He said casually, though he was distracted by thought.

 

“What about me?”

 

“About your foot.”

 

“You’re lying. What were you talking about?” I could tell whenever Jared lied. This wasn’t often, but when we were younger, he used to lie a lot. To his parents, to doctors, to friends and to schoolteachers.

 

I was hoping she wouldn’t ask me. Despite my history of lying I’ve gotten worse. And she can tell when I lie. I don’t know how, but she can.

 

“Okay then, we were talking about you and your weight.” He blushed slightly; he looked like a guilty puppy.

 

“Jared! You told?” I exclaimed, looking angry and upset. We must have approached the room we had been told to go to, for Jared turned sharply and opened a door.

 

“Kayleigh. You’re unhealthy.” He laid me down on the hospital bed and sat in the chair next to it, placing my bag on the floor. “I’m scared of losing you.”

 

I sighed deeply, rolling my head back and inspecting the room. It wasn’t a private room, there were three or four other beds in here, divided by green curtains. There were scales in the section I was in. Weighing scales. I stared at them.

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