Bullied

Day 7

Sunday... I've been staring at the ceiling for nearly four hours now. My mom's come up a few times to see if I needed anything, only to be stopped by the locked door. I looked down at my phone a couple of times, checking to see if Noah had texted; of course, he hadn't. What had I expected? I told him not to. At that moment the baby woke up crying. ‘Great,’ I think to myself, ‘just what I needed.’ I swung my legs over the bed and stood up and stretched. I could feel the shirt coming up to expose my hideous dark stretch marks. I scoffed at my hideousness and walked over to pick up the baby. I gently rocked the little life-like doll and granted myself a moment of ease. A moment that was shortly lived. As soon as the baby stopped crying I heard my mom call from downstairs. “Allie, Noah’s here!” you could notice the happiness in her voice, I could almost see the relief on her face. I finally have to leave my dark cave of a room. I gently put the baby on my bed and quickly changed into a pair of jeans, of which I noticed looked baggy on me compared to a week ago, and an oversized t-shirt in a desperate attempt to hide all of the fat under it. I then brushed my hair and grabbed the baby and the baby bag then began my decent down into hell… I mean down into the living room. Noah stood in the doorway to the kitchen with a broad smile on his face, like nothing yesterday ever happened, “Goooood morning, beautiful,” he said, holding out the o’s in good extra long. Despite myself, my heart sped up a little. A series of thoughts ran through my mind in a time span of two seconds. ‘Beautiful? Me? No, he’s just joking. He has to be. Fatty Allie is a lot of things, but ‘beautiful,’ isn’t one of them. Yeah, he was just joking.’ I stared him right in the eyes, giving no sign of my previous thoughts and said, “I told you to text me, not show up at my house.” His smile slightly faltered without me noticing and smoothly replied, “Well we don’t want the baby to think Mommy and Daddy are fighting now do we? I thought we could go hang out.” “Where?” I asked with a sigh, not really wanting to do much of anything at the moment. “We can hang at my place if you want, you know, since we’ve already technically hung out here.” “Sure. Whatever,” I went to walk toward the door before my mom stopped me. “Oh, wait a moment,” she said scrambling to the kitchen, “Noah have you eaten today?” “Oh, no ma’am,” he replied awkwardly and I looked at him with a raised eyebrow. I could hear the scrambling in the kitchen and she soon emerged with two brown paper bags, one for me and one for him, “Well, you two have a nice time, okay?” “Okay, Mom,” I replied; I handed Noah the baby bag and began walking to the door again, dragging Noah behind me. Once outside he opened the bag and looked at its contents while walking; I ignored mine. He began stuffing bacon in his mouth and sneaking glances at me. “What?” I asked, getting irritated. “You’re not going to eat that are you?” I scoffed, “How could you tell?” He fell silent and looked down, looking dejected. I’m not entirely sure why, but I felt bad; bad enough to change the subject, “So, Noah, where do you live?” He instantly perked up, you could still see a little hurt in his eyes, but he seemed happy enough, “Right around the corner actually. (I’m so sorry if I put he lived somewhere else in an earlier chapter, but I guess it’s changing to around the corner.) I’m surprised we’ve never seen each other around, actually.” “I’m not really an outside or social person,” I say quietly. I could feel his eyes on my face, but he never said anything back.

It didn’t even take five minutes to get to his house. I don’t really know how to describe it but it was… big (that’s what she said). We quietly ascended the steps and he let me in his front door. (Pic is inside his house.) “Mom, I’m home,” he called out. Out came walking the most beautiful woman I had ever laid eyes one. She was tall, had a perfect smile, perfectly curled long blond hair, flawless skin, amazing big green eyes and a body to die for. She could be a model is she so desired; which she probably was, what do I know? Without skipping a beat, she approached me and hugged me, “Hello, I’m Helena.” My face was in a ‘wtf is going on? Is this real like right now?’ face and stood rigidly with my hands at my sides. “I’m Allie,” I mumbled quietly. “Me and Allie got paired for the family and parenting project.” “Oh? So you’re the one he was telling me about?” she said with a wink to her son. My face became even more confused and my mouth turned down in a contemplating way, not sure how to respond to this. “Oh my god, mom!” he said rolling his eyes, “We have to leave this general area now.” “Hey, isn’t that Fattie Allie?” I heard a voice shout from the right of me. Looking over, there was a kid, about the age of eight, who looked like the spitting image of Noah. “Michael!” his mother shouted in outrage, “What did you say?” “No, ma’am it’s fine, I’m used to it,” I spoke up. She looked over at me, about to say something, when Noah grabbed my arm and pulled me in the direction of, what I could only assume, was his room.

When we got to his room he threw the baby bag in the corner and I gently sat on the bed, baby still in arms. "I'm really sorry about him," he began, but I cut him off. "No, don't be. I'm really used to it. It doesn't matter." His room was decorated in posters of various spots teams and I couldn't help but to think of Ron Weasley's room in the Harry Potter books. He had a 50" plasma TV on one of his walls and numerous game consoles. There were video games arranged neatly on shelves on the walls. That was the only thing neat in the room. There were all clothes all over the floor, which Noah was desperately trying to hide, but not before I could see a pair of old faded boxers. I acted like I didn't. His text books were thrown randomly throughout the room and his backpack was halfway under the bed. I almost laughed as he picked up two shirts and began sniffing them, unable to determine if they were clean or dirty. "So, uh, what do you want to, uh, do?" with each 'uh,' he picks up another clothing item. "I don't know, you're the one that wanted to hang out." "Oh, yeah," he said, throwing all of his clothes, both clean and dirty, into his overly large closet. "Do you play video games?" he asked, gesturing to his large abundance of them; I shook my head no and he smiled, "Wanna play anyway?" I nodded. He turned on one of the consoles and put a game in, I caught a glimpse of the case and it read 'Call of Duty.' That sounds...violent. I was right. He taught me the controls, which were pretty east once you got the hang of them. The baby cried a few times and we had to take turns making him stop. I sat up on a perch with a sniper rifle in hand, waiting for him to round the corner. There he was! I took the shot; head shot! I laughed, actually laughed, and for a moment, forgot who I was with, how I was fat I was, and just enjoyed myself just laughing and reveling in my victory.

"Dinner's almost ready," his mom called from downstairs. 'Dinner?" I thought to myself, 'No, no, no. I am not eating. I quickly stood up and put down the controller, "I have to go," I said already moving toward the door. "Wait, Allie, please stay," his eyes stared straight into mine and, if I was completely insane, I would say he was genuinely pleading for me to stay. But I'm not insane. No matter how much fun I think we're having, I'm just one big joke to him. I looked down, not able to hold his eye contacted and mumbled, "I'm not hungry," pushing him out of the way and hurried down the stairs, past his family and out the door.

Right when I got home, my mother's voice greeted me from the living room, "You were gone a while. Are you hungry?" "No, I ate over at his place." "Okay, sweety," she called back, "Are you going to bed?" "Yeah, see you in the morning. Good night."

I went to my room, took a quick shower and got into bed. It wasn't until I was almost asleep when I realized I left my phone at his house. 'I'll get it from his tomorrow...' I thought to myself, drifting off into sleep "Food is bad," I thought as my stomach growled loudly from under the blankets.

Day 7