Bullied

Day 5

Here it is! What you've all been waiting for!... I put the "Pro" in "Procrastinating," so I want you all to know I wrote all of this in the span of one day (more like about 4 hours, but hey! Who's counting?) ; judge freely.

I slowly opened my eyes to see a small beam of sunlight streaming into my room through the closed shades. I took a deep breath and stretched my arms above my head, I closed my eyes and took in the feeling of a good morning stretch. That moment of pure bliss was soon overtaken with dread. 'Sunlight,' I thought, 'Oh, shit. I must have over slept!' Never in my life has this fat girl moved so fast. In all of the span of one minute, I had flung the covers from my body, changed out of my night clothes and into my school clothes. I plopped down onto my bed and reached over for my shoes, brushing my long brown hair out of my face. Right when I managed to get one shoe on my mother walked in with a tray of food with several plates. I froze and she just smiled happily, "Oh! You're finally awake. I thought I was going to have to wake you." "Mom? What's happening? Why didn't my alarm go off, why didn't you come wake me up sooner?" I tried to cover up the look of distaste as I eyed the tray of food warily. "Well, like I said yesterday, you wasn't looking well, so I'm letting you stay home from school today," she said setting the food beside me on the bed, "I made you breakfast. Four slices of bacon, one egg, three pancakes, a slice of toast, and butter on the side," she gestured to the small bowl of a little butter to the side of the plate. "Mom, I needed to go to school today," I said, rubbing my temples. "Oh, hush," she said lightly pushing the tall glass of orange juice toward me, "It's the beginning of the school year, how busy could you be?" "We were getting the babies for Family and Parenting today," I was now looking at the orange juice, feeling queasy. "I remember that class! Do you still have to carry around a bag of flower?" she asked chuckling. I just sighed and placed my hands over my eyes. She huffed and placed her hands on her wide hips, "Well I'm not leaving until you eat." I stiffened slightly, the words 'Food is bad' echoing in the back of my mind, slowly making its way forward, "Mom, I can't eat with you here, it feels awkward." She narrowed her eyes at me and I glanced up at her, staring her in the eyes, trying not to look to guilty, "Fine!" she threw her hands in the air and began walking out of the room, "Fine, whatever you want., but when I get back that food better be gone!" The door closed behind her and I could practically see her putting her ear up to the door trying to hear if I actually eat. I shook my head slightly and glanced over to my alarm clock which read 1:30 P.M. 'Jeez, was I sleep deprived or something?' I began fiddling with the food on the tray to give off the sounds I was eating it. When I heard her happy sigh and retreating footsteps I instantly pulled my hand away from the food. Now, what to do with it? I looked toward the bathroom connecting to my room; it was tempting me. No, the pipes would clog. My eyebrows knitted together in thought. I glanced toward the window. Could I throw the food out the window and put it in the dump later? Perhaps. I heard the sound of footsteps coming back up the stairs. 'Shit! Window it is, then.' "Done, sweety?" my mom called. "Mmhm," I called back, trying my hardest to sound as if my mouth was full. I reached over and opened the window, throwing the pancakes out first. There went the bacon, bye bye toast. Hasta la vista egg and butter, and poured a little orange juice out, for good measure. I heard her on the last step and quickly closed the window, leaving the shades (shades? blinds? curtains? I dunno what to call them..) open. I picked up the glass of orange juice and began acting as if I was drinking it, the plates all stacked neatly on the tray. She smiled, "My, you must have been hungry!" I gave her a tight lip smile, putting down the glass of juice and looked down at my hands, "You barely drank you juice, though," she noted. "Wasn't really thirsty," I said looking over to the still almost full glass. "As long as you ate," she said, picking up the tray and glass moving to leave the room again, "Come on downstairs and watch some TV when you're ready." The door closed behind her for the second time that afternoon. I let out a deep sigh. 'Damn, that was close.' I looked down at the uncomfortable jeans and decided to wear something more...comfortable. I changed into pajama pants and a loose T-shirt and made my way downstairs. Our living room is brightly lit, the two outer walls had huge windows on them. Big enough to let in light, but not too big to let people in on your business (Kinda like the picture). I sat on the couch and turned on the TV to Criminal Minds.

After about two hours of watching the television a ring came from the doorbell, "I got it," I called to my mother who was in the kitchen cleaning. I dragged my feet over to the door and opened it without even looking. Bad idea. "Noah?" I asked staring wide eyed at the figure standing in the doorway. "Oh, uh. Hey, Allie." he said, sheepishly. A baby bag was thrown across his shoulder and a baby carrier in his right hand. "Wha-..What are you doing here?" "Well, we have to name our baby and stuff," he said, which sounds so weird, "Finding you was harder than I would've thought. I asked around for about an hour before anyone had the slightest idea where you lived." "Allie, who is it?" my mother called before turning the corner to the doorway. "Mom, this is Noah, from Family and Parenting. He's apparently the father of this.....child," I looked at the plastic doll with the most detest I could muster. "Hello," he called awkwardly from the doorway as he flipped his brown hair out of his eyes, inwardly I cringed. "Hello, Noah. Are you here to work out the details on the project?" she asked, wiping her hands clean on the rag in her hand and smiling kindly to this boy. "Yes, ma'am," he said, smiling back. "Well, come right in," she waved her hand toward her, "You two can work in the living room." Unwillingly, I stepped to the side and let Noah in. As soon as he was in the threshold he began looking around. I closed the door and pointed toward the living room, following behind him. "Cool house," he said as he set the baby and the bag on the couch, then he sat down. "Let's get this over with," I said, sitting on the chair the furthest from him. "Alright, then..." he reached into the bag and pulled out a binder, "First thing's first, baby's name? It's a boy, by the way." "I don't care," I said rolling my eyes, "Be creative." "Alright," he began naming off names, "Coleton? Brian? Steven? Hugh? Brysen?" at the name Brysen I flinched and he stopped, "Something wrong?" "Brysen was my dad's name," I looked down to the floor and held my arms stiffly at my sides. There was a longer than necessary pause and he finally inhaled loudly, "What about Flynn? I like that name." I just shrugged.

After about an hour or two of his questions and be either ignoring them or shrugging them off we finished the over view. I opened the front door for him to leave, when on the front porch he turned to me, "Don't miss another Family and Parenting class, it was hard giving birth alone, you know," he said jokingly, and despite myself, I smiled. He returned the smile and left with a wave. I turned around to see my mom looking at me with a smile on her face, and I instantly wiped my smile off, "What?" I asked defensively. "He was nice, wasn't he?" she asked, still smiling. "Didn't notice." "I'm making salad for dinner, do you want any?" She asked, turning toward the kitchen. "Nah, had a big lunch, remember?" I said, then suddenly remembering, "I'll be back in a second, need to check something outside." "Alright, dear," she said with a wave of her hand. I turned back toward the door and opened it, walking out and to the side of the house with my window. The food was gone. 'Ah, well. A dog or something must have eaten it.' I went back into the house and back up to my room. I closed the shades and just got into bed. I closed my eyes and concentrated on what I might look like without all the fat. The last thing that went through my head was 'Food is bad.'

Day 5