It Was Good...

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Seventeen:

When my alarm went off the next morning for school I immediately groaned and placed a pillow over it hoping it would just drift away. Then I remembered that my mother was in the same room as me. I quickly turned the alarm off as quickly as I could and looked at her face which was still in deep slumber.

It was strange, my mother was usually awake by five in the morning, it being six thirty and seeing her fast asleep was a different sight. I rose from bed grabbing some light blue jeans and a pink off the shoulder shirt with a white tank top to put under as I walked to the bathroom. I didn't turn a light on because I didn't want to wake her so I bumped my desk and my laundry basket on the way making not so quiet noises.

Mom didn't stir the entire time. She must be exhausted from the crying she did last night and everything that had happened. I don't even want to know how badly he may had beaten her after Kayln and I left.

Oh right, Kayln.

I'm going to have to deal with him when I get to school since I am no longer giving him rides. This is going to be fun.

I wipe off yesterday's mascara tear stains that had made their way down my cheeks last night and stare at my face in the mirror. I hate my reflection. I hate everything about my reflection and everything that has to deal with my body. My cheek bones cling to my skin like I've always wanted them too, but I hate them now.

I hate what I've created, I need to stop.

I hate what I've created, but I'm so beautiful.

The small calming voice in my head whispers the last thought and I lift the tank top I had put on, I am beautiful. The skin clinging to my bones and showing off my pristine body was glorious, the ultimate test was next.

I turn back to my bedroom and walk to my bed in dead silence grabbing the scale from under my bed. This terrible scale that haunts my nightmares, the words I've written on the scale is the worst part; FAT, Suicide, Anorexic, Bulimic, DIE, Kill Me, Help Me.. The list drags on. The entire scale is full of words that I can't erase, I need a new scale. I drag it into the bathroom placing it on the cold, hard tile, hearing the thud is causing my anxiety to spike.

I take a deep breath and step onto the scale watching the numbers move up and down. My nerves are on a sky rocket, I watch them slow; 120, 115, 110, 105, 103, 102. They stop.

102.3

Only 102.3

How can I only be 102.3? I've been working so hard to get this number down! It doesn't make any sense. I turn the shower on and immediately thrust almost my entire fist into my mouth. I can't believe I let this happen.

ONLY 102.3! It's not fair.

The retching stops and I stand on the scale again after turning the shower off and flushing the toilet. 110, 105, 103, 102, 101.5. It stops.

101.5, I'm so close.

I won't eat today, it's that easy. I won't eat today, I'll come home tonight, and I'll just throw up and I'll finally be at my goal! I'll finally be 100! Daddy will be so proud!

Daddy.

I quickly dress and go downstairs tentatively. Everything is cleaned up like I did last night. Daddy isn't in his chair. There's a fresh bouquet of flowers in the kitchen with a notepad sitting next to them.

Abigail, I love you.
Please accept these as an apology for last night.
They're white and pink roses, your favorite.
I'm so sorry for yesterday Abby.
It'll never happen again,
-Ben