Loving Nicky

Chapter Eight: Nicky, you have to eat

Chapter Eight: Nicky, you have to eat

Nicky's point of view

"Nicole Jones?" A nurse calls out.

"Yes, ma'am," I say as I stand up in the doctor's office. I am here to see my nutritionist. I decided to take the day off work. Mr. Foster was excellent with it. Even though he was evil to Luke, he likes me. Go figure.

"Please stand on the scale." The nurse says as she points to the scale. I sigh.

You already know you are fat. You don't need a number to tell you you are worthless. You fat, ugly piece of shit. You don't deserve to eat or live.

"Shut up, thoughts, okay? I have to do this!" I scream to the thoughts in my head, but I don't speak out loud.

I stand on the scale and gasp at the number.

See! I told you, you are fat!

My brain is right.

Holy shit.

"Follow me." The nurse says as I walk off the scale and go to a room.

"Dr. Johnson will be with you shortly." The nurse smiles as she shuts the door. I thank her and sit on one of the chairs in the office.

My doctor is here at the hospital, so I came here. I can hear people being paged over the intercom. I hear the whoosh of automatic doors opening and closing. I see many patients here and their families waiting for them. It smells like cleaning supplies in here.

I notice my hands shake, and I can't stop biting my nails. I pick at my skin when I am stressed and anxious. I see I am also sweating a lot.

"Hello, Ms. Jones," Dr. Johnson says as she enters my room with a frown.

"Are you Dr. Johnson?" I ask her.

"Yes, ma'am. And I have such terrible news." She sighs as she sits down on her chair.

"Nicole, can I call you that?" She asks, and I nod my head yes.

"I know that you have severe anorexia, and your body is shutting down. You have Irregular heart rhythms after your EKG and low blood pressure. You are starving yourself. So here is my plan for you. If you have not stopped starving yourself in three months, I will have to put you in a mental hospital for inpatient time, and you will have to have a feeding tube."

"No, no, NO!" I scream. My heart feels like it's going to explode in my chest.

"Nicole, this is the right treatment for you. I spoke with your therapist Andrew, and he agreed."

"Of course he fucking did. Don't you fucking see! I can't go to another mental hospital! Not again!" I cry and see now that tears are falling down my face.

I look down at my hands, and the shaking is worse than ever. I am going into complete shock.

"Just calm down." Dr. Johnson tries to comfort me, but instead it pisses me off.

"Go FUCK YOURSELF, Dr. Johnson. FUCK YOU!" I scream at her and then run out of the room. I keep running out of the hospital.

No. No. No. NO!! This can't be happening.

I find my car in the parking lot with tears rolling down my face. I get in my car, shut the door, turn on my car, and cry.

Don't you see Nicky? You need to die. This world would be better without you. Luke would also be better without dealing with the depressed, anxious, and eating disorder mess that you are.