Une Fleure Fanée

Week 11 Part 4 (Wednesday)

     "Lilly, wake up. We have to go to Cardiff," Mom whispers in a sing-songy tone.

     I shoot up from bed. I feel a few happy butterflies in my stomach. This isn't what the cutting gives me. It gives me fake happiness. But fake happiness is better than no happiness.

     Even though it's three in the morning, I know Elliana isn't sleeping. She doesn't sleep anyway for some reason. I never understood it. As Mom leaves me to get changed, I text Ellie for the last time before I leave for Cardiff, Wales.

     Sillylilly: I'm going to miss you. Leaving soon.

     Jelliebelly: bye hope you have a great time

     I wish she was coming. She's one of my best friends. She's part of the ALDC family. But I guess a previously booked gig in the Virgin Islands is more important. I tear the sheets off of me and go to the dresser to pick something to wear to the airport. I need to find something acceptable for sleeping and society.

     I end up picking a yellow t-shirt that has a picture of the candy Dots on it and black sweatpants. My hair is pulled into a messy bun. I examine my face. It's becoming more and more defined. My cheekbones barely need contour to be shown. I have bags under my eyes, but that's what concealer is for.

     This eating disorder is slowly working. I just need to lose more. I hope the UK won't impact this. The UK is going to make you fat and uglier than you already are, Lilliana. Don't go. I have to go. I don't want to disappoint my fans or Ms. Abby by not showing up.

     I double-check my suitcase and so does Mom. All it's missing is a razor. I put the razor in a ball of socks and quickly drop it in before Mom closes my suitcase. I'm holding my breath that she doesn't ask why I dropped an extra pair of socks in the suitcase.

     She looks groggy. She needs her coffee. The adrenaline of the trip is keeping me going, while Mom is probably counting down the minutes until we reach a Starbucks in the airport. By the time we leave, it's three-thirty in the morning.

     The airport is an hour away from the apartment complex. I refrain from using my phone or turning on the radio to not annoy Mom. Sleep-deprived driving is dangerous enough. I don't want to annoy her. The only sound I make is the fishing and the rattling of my pill bottles, taking all three today. Your presence annoys your mother, Lilliana. You shouldn't be happy to exist.

     It's still dark out. The only thing illuminating the world is the occasional blinding headlights of passing cars and the colored shine of the stoplights. I watch the small drizzle fall outside my car window, creating a small static-like sound that calms me down. My leg bounces at the thought of the razor in my suitcase.

     I notice a big white building that Mom pulls into. It must be the airport. I gulp. This is where it must be. Ok, all I have to do is get my pink donut suitcase through the TSA. The anxiety makes me want to pull my razor out and cut in the parking lot.

     I anxiously go to the entrance of the airport where bag security is awaiting. A man in the familiar blue uniform is there. Mom goes first. He quickly combs through her suitcase. They're going to find your razor, Lilliana. Then you're going to confess everything to your mother and then you'll be forced to get treatment.

     I smile at the man and muster up all my strength to lift the suitcase onto the carrier. I feel so weak, but I manage to get it up. I hold my breath as he unzips my suitcase, trying to not look terrified. He combs through my suitcase.

     He flashes me a smile, zips it back up, and says the customary, "Enjoy your flight!"

     I almost let out a sigh of relief before I remember nobody knows about my cutting so I can't do anything but smile, nod, and keep moving on. We find the airport terminal, Pressley and Ms. Ashley are already sitting there, coffees in hand. I hug Pressley, and Mom leaves to go get herself a coffee and my ice water.