Emma: Freshman Year

Chapter 32: Guilt

As soon as Emma arrived home, she wandered upstairs to her room and stripped herself of her uncomfortable work uniform. She proceeded to reach behind herself with both hands, unhook her bra, and let it slip off of her and fall by her feet. Emma was now wearing nothing but a skimpy thong; she stood in front of the full-length mirror on her closet door and stared at her reflection. Her eyes were still red and puffy from crying, and her messy, blonde hair hung down to just below her bony shoulders while side bangs covered the majority of her forehead. Emma's thin frame was obviously underweight; her collarbones protruded prominently, all the way from each shoulder to the base of her neck. Her entire ribcage clearly visible underneath her skin, hidden only by her breasts, which were so deprived of fat tissue they were almost nonexistent. Her hip bones, which were already very pronounced, were made even more obvious by her sunken abdomen. On Emma's forearms and thighs were numerous linear scars that she had acquired over the last few years from cutting. Her legs were stick-thin and there was a large gap in between her thighs.

After taking a long look at herself, Emma wandered over to her dresser, pulled a white cami tank top out of one of the drawers, and slipped it over her naked body. Bending over, she pulled her cell phone out of the pants that she had thrown on the floor earlier and glanced at the time. It was almost six-thirty; too early to go to bed. Emma was mentally exhausted from her panic attack, yet she knew she wouldn't be able to sleep if she tried. She could not stop ruminating on everything that had gone wrong that day. Her head ached terribly and her stomach was still in knots. All Emma wanted to do was to go to sleep and forget about everything, but how could she relax with her mind racing like this?

With her phone in her hand, Emma wandered downstairs into the living room. Tossing her phone on the couch, she made her way into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator door. On the shelf was an unopened bottle of white wine, which belonged to Emma's mom. Desperate to relieve her anxiety, Emma grabbed the bottle, unscrewed the cap, and took several big gulps of wine. Closing the fridge door, Emma walked back into the living room, set the bottle of wine on the end table, and plopped down on the couch. She then proceeded to turn on the TV and flip through the channels as she continued to sip on her mom's wine.

It wasn't long before Emma began to feel tipsy. She was giggling at the mildly inappropriate comedy show that was on TV, and she had mostly forgotten about the events that had occurred that day. The wine was helping her to relax and enjoy herself, so Emma decided that she would keep on drinking it.

Before she realized it, the entire bottle of wine was empty. Emma had been to the bathroom to pee several times during her drinking session, and with each subsequent trip, her gait became more uncoordinated. Emma was so drunk that she couldn't even make sense of her TV show anymore. All the anxiety that had been plaguing her lately was gone, and she had never felt so carefree in her life.

Just then, Emma spotted an actor on the TV who had the same brown hair and soft, blue eyes as her first boyfriend, Josh. Immediately, all the memories came flooding back to her. She vividly recalled their meaningful conversations, their first kiss, and their passionate sex. Suddenly, Emma had a strong urge to reconnect with Josh. She wanted so badly to hear his voice and feel the touch of his soft lips against hers. Picking up her phone, she proceeded to scroll through her contacts until she came across Josh's number. Tapping it with her thumb, she put the phone up to her ear as she waited anxiously for Josh to answer. 

"Hello?" A male voice on the other line answered. 

"Josh?" Emma questioned, her heart racing excitedly. 

"This is Josh," Josh replied. "Who is this?" 

Immediately, Emma felt a stab of pain in her heart. "You don't remember me?!" she cried as tears formed in her eyes. "It's Emma Olsen! We dated back in seventh grade! Did---did you delete my number?!" she demanded, her words slurring as she struggled to make sense out of what she was hearing.