The Other Half of My Heart

Chapter Twenty-One: The Dream

Chapter Twenty-One: The Dream

*Two weeks later*

I was doing jump and jacks. My breath was heavy as I counted every one that I did. "One million forty-two, one million forty-three," sweat beaded a my forehead, but did I really want all of this fat? "One million forty-four, one million forty-five," This disgusting fat will go away, it will, it has to, "One million forty-six, one million forty-seven, one million forty-eight, one million forty-nine, one million fifty."

My phone begun to ring. It played my ring-tone, bright-eyed beautiful girl. Tears came to my eyes, I knew who that was. It was Sam. I swallowed hard. Shivers were sent up my spine. He wouldn't like me if I was ugly, and that's what I was now; I was a hideous beast.

My sister was gone and dead. Jessica wasn't to be trusted. Sam would hate me if he found out how much I weighed. Obese, overweight, fat, hideous, ugly, moron; these are words that describe me. I felt... gross.

My head hung low as I completed my one-million-two-hundredth jumping jack. I stopped and wiped off the sweat from my forehead, then realized that my sweat was in more places than just my forehead, I gave up, and sat down on the ground. Tucking my feet under my bed, I began doing sit-ups.

"I... must... not... be," I panted, "fat..." I began my tenth sit-up.

BAM, BAM, BAM.

Someone knocked on my door. I jumped up, panting. "Tasha," my shouted, angry, "open this door, now." Her voice sounded shaky and more angry than I've ever heard her.

I scrambled to my feet. Opening the door, I saw my mom standing there, with her phone in her hand. I just got a text saying that you've no longer been buying lunch from school, and I haven't seen you eat in two weeks Tasha. I need to know, are you becoming anorexic?"

"Why would you ask that?" I asked her.

"Because the school board called me, worried about you."

"First off, it's none of the school boards business, second, why would I be anorexic?" I demanded.

"I don't know, now tell me, are you, or are you not anorexic?"

I feigned shock, although deep inside I was confused, it was too early for her to find out anyways. I weighed one hundred and fifteen pounds. Too much, too much fat. "What?! No mom! I eat every morning, toast, cereal, pop tarts, I eat! Please don't try to judge me like that again, this was no reason to get mad at me. Even if I was, you should be concerned, not angry!"

"I am your mother, I have every right to be any emotion I want to be."

"No you don't! Just because you're my mom doesn't mean that you can just barge into my room and make false accusations! Like that I'm anorexic?!"

"You are y daughter, I have the reason to be worried about you."

"My life is none of your business."

"It is as long as you are living with me! My house, my rules."

"No, I'm going to do what I want, when I want. And I am not anorexic."

"Tasha," She began, her voice even, "Come downstairs with me and eat then."

My little voice laughed at me, 'You're screwed, stupid, why can't you lie better?'

"Alright, fine." To my dismay, my voice warbled.

"Good, now go."

"O.....kay," I said, shaky.

She raised her eyebrow at me and led the way down the stairs, to the awful, awful, food. I hated food, all of it. It was gross and disgusting. Greasy, slimy, smelly, stinky food.