Hated

Calories and Exercise

I wake up to my mother shaking me. My head is pounding and sweat beads fall down my face.

"My god, you were screaming, are you okay?" My mother's face is putrefied with a terrified eyes squeezed into the middle. She is sweating almost as much as I am.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just a bad dream." I get off of the floor and look at her. "I'm fine, trust me."

"Okay. Well. I am grilling some chicken now so we can have chicken tacos later. It'll be ready in about twenty minutes. See you in the kitchen?" She questions me with a slight grin on her face. I look over at the time and it reads 6:45.

"Sure." I did well enough today, I think I deserve one taco. A workout afterwards, for no one wants to see anymore fat on me than I already have.

My mom walks out, closing my door with barely any squeak. I lay back down on my bed, forcing my eyes to stay open. I don't want any kind of dream like that again, even if that means I never sleep again.

I stand up, again, and just look at my door. It used to be covered in posters, everything from my childhood. Everything that meant the world to me. Ranging from Wonder Pets to Kung Fu Panda. But as soon as Heather fell into the hole, I did as well. Now my wall is bare, and full of nothing. The same way I feel.

I walk back out the door and tumble onto the couch. I can hear my mom humming as she cooks the chicken for the tacos. This will be the first time in at least a couple months since I have had tacos. I wonder if it is some kind of special occasion.I do not want to turn on the TV, nor only stare at the ceiling like I normally do. Both will lead me into a tempting sleep, to one I will not have the strength to fight against. I lay on the couch for another short ten seconds, then stand back up.

"I'll be back in a little while." I call out to my mom.

"Okay, dinner will be done in thirty minutes, so I expect you back by then." I nod through her words, even though she can't see me. I walk outside and slam the door by accident on my way out.

My street was covered in houses, side to side, with very little room between each one. A white picket fence behind each pale-yellow household. Our neighborhood is so incredibly boring, it's unbelievable. Other than the few kids, we mainly only have old people that could die at any moment.

I walk down my block, then the next, and then the next. Walking is a way for me to tune out of the world, well, that and eating. Walking is the best alternative I could ever ask for. Gaining calories vs burning calories; there is no way I wouldn't choose exercise.

Back when I used food as a way out of everything, there was no way I would ever go out on a walk unless I was getting paid or it was for a bet. I know I could have substituted food with exercising, but I never thought of it that way before. I never took it in a way that food was bad for you. Well. Until the scale told me otherwise.

After about nine blocks, I pull out my iPhone. It shines 6:55. Ten more minutes to get back home. I start a jog to burn more calories, and make it home just before my mom chops the lettuce.

I walk into the kitchen, which is also the dining room, and pull out the wooden chair at the very end; closest to the stove.

"How was your walk, honey?" Mom asks, like she is one of my teenage friends. I cringe at every crunch of the lettuce slicing. After the lettuce, she moves to the tomatoes. She pulls one out of the bag, then turns to see if I am anywhere closer to answering her question.

"Uh. It was fine. The leaves are really falling out there. Some are already naked." We both chuckle at the bare trees. Out here in Minnesota, the trees shed in September, and don't grow again until April. Being September 10th, it isn't surprising to see the trees losing their shade weapons.

"Johnny! Dinner's ready!" My mom shouts with a final slice of the tomato. She puts the soft tortilla shell on the table, along with the chicken, tomatoes, olives, lettuce, and sour cream.

Johnny walks around the corner from his room, and makes his way to the table. He takes a seat to the right of me after grabbing three plates from the cupboard. Johnny is two inches taller than me. It gets embarrassing at times.

Mom sits on my left, and takes a flour tortilla. They pile their tacos full of everything in front of them. I feel a little faint looking at the food. I don't know how many calories I burned on the walk, but I feel confident it was enough to still keep me in the negatives if I ate one small taco.

I scoot the plate Johnny got, in front of me. I grab one small shell and around a half cup of chicken. Breaking the olives into fourths with my fingers, I place them strategically around the meat. Plopping a few diced tomatoes in the middle, and sour cream on the outside, I wrap it up, not bothering with the lettuce.

"So. How was your guys' day?" Mom asks, mouth full with taco. She looks to Johnny, then to me, looking to see if any answers would surface. I look over to Johnny, who also has a mouth full of taco. His eyes are red and watery as he chews the food. I look to my mom and realize they are both staring at me.

"My day was fun. The first three days of school seem to have flown by," they have been so slow, "but other than that, they have been fun."

"What about Daren? Has he talked to you at all?" She turns to look at Johnny, then looks back at me, smiling.

"Yeah. He gave me a love note today. I'm pretty sure he's just desperate. I mean, how can he just go from not talking to me to loving me all over again." Besides, how can anyone love me?

"Have you even giving the thought that maybe he does really love you. Back in my middle school-"

Johnny breaks my mothers sentence, "Please mom. We don't need any flashbacks. Can I be excused?" We both look at him, then down to his half-finished taco.

My mother replies with a questioned tone. "But you only finished half of your taco. Is it really that bad?"

"I'm just not hungry. Can I go now?" His voice turns from soft to serious.

"Sure. Go ahead, honey." Johnny squeaked his chair back and dumps the rest of the taco in the garbage. I can hear his bedroom door slam behind him.