After a few days in the hospital, I was released. But apparently there was a catch. I have to see a doctor. Not like a hospital doctor, but a doctor that helps people mentally. So yah. I have to. Twice a week. Ugh! There just going to ask me if how I feel each time. I don't understand why I have to go.
My parents and I are walking out of the hospital and heading to our car. Once we get in the car my father turns around,"Why? What would make you do such a thing Cass?"
"I don't know." I stare out the window.
"Just leave her alone for a bit." My mother tells my father.
We got home, I went straight to my room. I shut the door and layed in bed. I didn't get out of bed for around an hour, then my mother walked into my room with a plate of food. She sat it down on my night stand and walked out. I looked at the plate of food, then remembered I haven't ate in a while. Then, I tell myself,'No I'm not hungry.' So didn't eat.
For weeks we go through this process if going to the doctor, going home, parents giving me food that I don't eat, and then sleep. If I move the food around on my plate they think I eat. But truly I don't even take a bite or nibble. No one really notices though.
