part thirty-one

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— jessie's pov
I sit staring at the ceiling; I don't want to get up. I don't feel like it. I feel like sleeping all day. I walk out of the room and make sure no one sees me. I was forced to gain weight, or else I had to be put in inpatient. I was a whopping 96lbs. I can't gain anymore. Just maintain.

I wash my face and look at myself in the mirror; I looked scary—bags under my eyes as deep as the ocean. I gave Tim Burton a run for his money.

Nothing a little concealer won't fix. I do my makeup, concealer and mascara. That's good enough. Emily was sleeping on the couch until she found a place for us. She was putting stuff in a bowl. " good morning." I nod and sit at the table.

A weekend, finally a rest. I place my head on the table. I want to sleep.

" you ok?" she places a bowl in front of me; eggs, fruit with a slice of toast and ofc some ensure. I was getting sick of those drinks.

She sits across the table; her plate consisted of bacon, eggs, two pieces of toast, a hashbrown and orange juice. It looked good. But, so many calories. It was disgusting. I look at her with my pampered eyes.

" where is Derek?" I say. Instead, she looks disappointed and takes a bit from her bacon.

" he went in for work, and we have different schedules for weekends." I nod and go back to picking my food. It was awkward. I was talking to my ex-dead mom. It was going to take a while for adjustment.

She continues to eat, and I pick at my food. The grease and the fat. Her plate was already half done.

She pulls her chair towards mine. She brings her bowl with her. I could feel her chair hit mine.

" here, one bite at a time." she picks up her hashbrowns and takes a bite which makes me laugh. It was so cliche. But it worked; I took a bite, I felt guilty, but I took a bit, then another bite.

My stomach became full, ok. I'm done. With eggs and half a toast left, I look at her. Her plate was done. The feeling of bloating and heaviness takes over.

It didn't felt enjoyable. But I needed to do this. To reassure her, I was getting better. But I was getting worse.  I missed Clara; I missed when I was innocent. " I was thinking of going to the mall today?" I look at her, signalling I have her attention. " you wanna go to the mall" I nod.

" yes, please! I'm running out of clothes that fit me." I laugh a little.

" well, thanks for keeping mine." I go and get dressed. Straight ripped jeans with fishnet leggings and a sweater with some converses. Emily was wearing jeans and a t-shirt. I was a graphic tee of nirvana.

She was always the cool mom; we head to the mall. I open my poetry book. I've missed the sound and serene words.

it is so much safer not to feel-

"what are you reading?" my head jerks up. She was trying to pry; I don't like prying.

" poetry."

" ya, know me and Derek were at a slam poetry place last night! it was so funny we go drunk off our-."

I cut her off, " why don't you admit it?" we are now in the parking lot of the shopping centre.

" what are you talking about." I turn to her with all seriousness.

" the way you talk about him, smile and blush."

" Jessie, we are not talking about this." she takes her bag and exits the car. But, we have to talk about it; she can't keep suppressing these emotions; she can't keep hiding everything. They both like each other; I would even go as far as saying they love each other.

" yes, we are. We haven't had a real conversation since you've come back." she stops and sits on the bench. I sit right next to her. " why don't you tell him?"

" I don't know how I feel about him." she starts to pick her nails.

" mom, I've never seen you this smiley and open with any other man in my life." except Ian.

" you shouldn't be giving me relationship advice." she nudges me, and we make our way to the store.

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