"My biggest fear is that eventually you will see me the way I see myself."


10. 7


Chapter Seven

    I trudge up the school stairs, feeling tired and weak. "You get tired pretty fast," Ava says, looking down at me from the top of the stairs where she patiently waits for me.

    "Sorry, not all of us are in shape and athletic as you," I roll my eyes at her with a smile. Using that as an excuse, the fear of her finding out I don't eat is gone for now. Ava was part of the volleyball team of the school and took excercising and eating healthy seriously. If she found out about my situation, I was sure that she would not talk to me for days. 

     Finally reaching the cafeteria, Ava and I find Chelsea and Samantha sitting on our usual table, located right by the window. "What took so long?" Chelsea asks with furrowed eyebrows, her ponytail swaying back and forth from turning her head to our side. 

    "Haven. Maybe we should get her to the gym? Get her in shape," Ava laughs and gives me a light punch on my shoulder. The thought of the gym both scares and interests me. 

    "We should all totally go together!" Samantha says. 

    "I have my membership, it's up to y'all if you want to join," Ava answers, pulling her tupperware of a homemade salad and fruits on the side out of her bag. "Any of you want some?" 

    We all answer a "No, thanks" and shake our heads. My three friends continue eating their lunches: Samantha with a PB&J sandwich, Chelsea with the overly greasy looking pizza bought from the cafeteria, and Ava with her salad. Squirming in my seat, I hope they don't notice I'm not eating, but of course, they do.

    "Aren't you going to eat?" Ava asks me. 

    "Not really hungry," I start off my usual lie, "I have a big test for Trig after lunch and I'm really nervous about it. I don't think I can stomach down any food right now." I give her a fake, scared smile, hoping she'll believe my lie. 

     "Oh, well good luck!" she says, before going back to eating her lunch. The rest of the time during lunch, I try to pay attention to the conversations my friends have, but end up tuning out instead. The things they were complaining about - lip gloss, graduation, homework, the dirty tables of the cafeteria - barely even seemed like things to worry about, compared to what was happening to me. If they were only paying attention to small, meaningless things, then surely they would never notice how horrible I was doing. 


      "So, can what do you all say about the gym?" Chelsea asks, as we leave the school. 

      "I'll ask my mom," I suddenly say. I knew that this was going to end bad, but I would at least try to lose a couple of more pounds this way too.

      "Yeah me too," Samantha says.

      "Great, I'll text you guys the details later on. Haven, need a ride today?" Ava asks me.

      "No, thanks again though," I say with a smile. 

      "Alright, be safe," she says, before they all give me a good-bye hug and walk to her car. I might have been safe outside with my surroundings, but I doubt I actually was with my mind. 

       On the walk home, I casually go through the texts in my phone to occupy myself during the long walk. As if seeing it for the first time, my finger lingers over the message with Harry and I stare at it for a while with my lips slightly parted in shock. Gulping, I nervously open the message and read over our past conversations. It felt like it was ages ago when I talked to him, but it was only last week. Shaking my head, I continue walking home, realizing and regretting my decision and actions from that day.

        When reaching home, I mindlessly follow the scent of baked cookies to the kitchen. My gaze falls on the warm chocolate chip cookies my mom has seemed to just have taken out of the oven. I can feel my mouth watering at the sight of the delicious cookies and can hear the thoughts in my mind yelling at me to not even think about grabbing one. "Hi, honey." I snap out of my trance, and look at her. 

       "Hey," I say monotonously. My mind continues to torment me, yelling at me, cautioning me, demanding me to walk away and just go upstairs. 

       "How was school?" my mom asks, but I can barely give her an answer. 

        Instead, I shrug my shoulders and continue to stare at the cookies, knowing for a fact that my mom probably thinks I'm weird by now. But I can't do anything about it. My mind doesn't leave me alone, and my mom continues to talk and ask me questions about my day. It all becomes too much; too noisy. I want to shout and yell at both of them to leave me alone, to shut up, or to stop. 

       "Want a cookie?" she finally asks. I can feel the tears pooling in my eyes, and can hear the victorious laugh of my thoughts; they win once again. Turning back around, I walk out of the kitchen, accepting the fact that I was probably never going to get out of this. 

       Sitting down on my bed, I silently wipe the tears from my eyes, as they fall nonstop. Scrolling down the messages in my phone, I press the one with Harry again. Typing "Help me" in the message, I stare at it for what feels like forever, as I think about the situation. He would either answer back or ignore me. He could help me or forget me. For some reason, both of those assumptions scared me. My finger lingers right above the 'send' button, but before I can even try to convince myself or have the strength to send it, I throw my phone across the room with frustration. Lying down on my back and staring at the ceiling, I sob uncontrollably. What was I going to do? If no one saw what I was going through, how was I going to get help, when I couldn't get it myself? Taking a deep sigh, my tears finally stop to fall.

      I was scared of myself, of my own mind. I needed help, and I knew that that would be impossible with my controlling thoughts playing as little demons against me. I was supposed to love myself, not hate myself. I, also, knew that loving myself would probably be the hardest thing I could ever come to do. But for now, I was a servant to my mind. I was barely fighting a battle that I knew I would never win. And deep inside, a little part of me was glad that I was being controlled to not eat. Because then, at least I would be skinny. All this suffering for a body - a body I wasn't sure if anyone would even come to love later on in the future. 
















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