As Fate Would Have It | ✓

chapter one

You know the moment that you drift back into the real world, slowly coming back into your own body as you awake from slumber? But before the you even open your eyes, all the stresses of the day ahead of you hits your like a freight train?

Yeah, that was every day for me.

I dreaded the day before it even began—before I even opened my eyes. I just lay here and dread opening them because once I do, I know I have to spring into action.

That's just the unfortunate life of Maddison James, I suppose.

I slowly open my eyes, the light too bright for this early. I turn on my back, stretching out my limbs. Minus well start the day.

I get up and walk across the hall to my bathroom. I pee first, always having to pee in the morning as soon as I wake up. After, I walk to the sink and wash my hands, looking at my reflection in the mirror.

Gosh, did I seriously look that bad? My blonde hair was a matted mess, my blue eyes bright, but I can clearly see the remains of yesterday's mascara that didn't wash off. Maybe I should shower. That'd wake me up.

I brush my mouth first, making sure I killed the nasty scent. I walked to the shower and turned on the shower, keeping a safe distance from the mirror as I stripped. My feet were cold on the tile as I waited for the water to warm. Once it did, I hopped in, letting the hot water run down my body.

I hated taking a shower because I was forced to look at my body; my body was the epitome of my insecurity. I was overweight and I knew it, I had just let go once I lost my mom.

My mom and I were best friends—I was lucky to have a mom like that. She was cool and laid back, but strict when she needed to be. She loved me and my sister both fiercely, even if my sister doesn't remember her the way I do. She was only nine or ten when she passed, I was seventeen. I had a longer time with her than she did.

My sister had a different dad; my dad left for a while, a few years and my mom had met some dude, started dating her and got her knocked up. But once he heard that, he left. So she was on her own. It was just me, mom and Joey. About a year after Joey was born, dad came back, begging for mom to forgive him and take him back.

Truth be told, mom never stopped loving dad. She was sad he left and she just settled, knowing he was happy with someone else. But dad had said he wasn't happy and he missed her. They quickly reconciled and was remarried, stayed together until the day she died.

That day changed all of us. Dad just...broke. Something inside of him died when mom died, but it did for me, too. I felt like I lost a part of me, my heart. Like she took it with her to the grave. Jo is young, she has happy memories of mom. She didn't seem to have to grieve long when mom passed. She seemed fine.

I wish I was fine.

Because I was sad, I ate. I don't know what in my brain just registered to eat, but I didn't stop. I've always loved food, but this went to a whole other extent. I ate uncontrollably, all hours of the day. I didn't want to feel pain, so I stuffed my face instead. I stuffed it so much so I'd almost throw up, or successfully do so. I'd rather myself be uncomfortable from food than feel the pain of my mother being gone.

Food was a comfort for me people never were.

When mom died, Joey's dad and new step mom came in and took her back, claiming custody of her. I never got to have a normal sisterhood with her, especially when her evil step-monster started turning her dad against me. And dad, he just turned to the bottle, numbing his pain.

So I was left alone.

When I started to eat, that's when the weight started packing in. I'd been a normal sized girl, not too skinny, not too fat. But normal, for me. Afterwards, I was the size of a balloon. I just blew up and couldn't stop. So, I couldn't blame anyone other than myself for what happened to me. For hating myself the way I do, now.