Basorexia - J.MAGUIRE

[1.18] aunt carolines

Ciara was driven away from Derry and away from the orange order in the middle of the night. Her Mammy always used it as a reason to get both Cal and Ciara out to Portnoo to see her sister since otherwise they both refused to go. They both hated their Auntie Caroline, hated so much that they refused to see her any other time. It was kind of unavoidable when the Orange order were about. So they all left for Portnoo in the wee hours of the morning, wanting to escape the entire kerfuffle as much as possible.

Cal drove, Mammy in the passenger seat and Ciara sat in the back. She had a book in her lap but paid it no attention, instead watching the rolling scenery and the sun as it rose while her brother's music choices blared from the radio.

Auntie Catherine in Portnoo was your typical disastrous rich woman. She had a stunning house, all bricks and ivy and more land than she knew what to do with. She had everything she could ever want, apart from one thing. She was lonely as hell. She could not keep anyone around her for very long, always ended up pushing them away for whatever reason. Mammy never saw how awful she was or just didn't care, after all she was her sister. It was the place that everyone thought she had been during her various inpatient treatments and honestly, she would have rather been in the jailhouse.

Upon stepping through the doorway to the vast house, Ciara instantly dropped her bag at the door and went off in search of the kitten from last year that would no longer be a kitten. However he managed to find her first and bounded up to her. She sat on the floor of the hallway and smiled as the cat approached, returning his cuddles as soon as they occurred.

"Cup of tea, Chip? Biscuit or cake?" Auntie Catherine asked as she leant out of the doorframe of the vast kitchen at the front of the house.

"No i'm alright thanks," Ciara replied with a soft smile, not wanting to be impolite despite the dislike she had for her.

"Just as well," she muttered, the sound echoing down the corridor. Catherine frowned and looked Ciara up and down disapprovingly, saying a thousand words with her eyes. Ciara, fighting the voices that shot into her mind, cleared her throat and instead focused on the cat playing with the laces on her boots.

What followed was nothing short but torture for Ciara's mind. Constant comments about what she was doing or taking in. The worst one being when she went to get a glass of water before tea, Catherine made some awful comment about water weight and losing it. It went along the lines of restricting certain things so she could lose the puppy fat still clinging to her cheeks or the lingering fat on her thighs. Ciara didn't reply to a word of it, not wanting to give her the satisfaction. Instead she simply left the tall glass of water on the marble countertop then walked away, making the conscious effort not to storm out. When she stepped out into the hallway, she stopped instantly as she nearly walked into Cal who - by the looks of things - had been lingering outside through the entire conversation. She ducked away and ran up the stairs to avoid the look in his eyes.

-

Ciara had refused to come down to tea, stating that she wasn't hungry and did not want to have to deal with Catherine to her overly annoyed Mammy. But Cal was not having any of it. So he too left the table, after filling two plates, then wandered upstairs. He knocked with a plate then walked into her bedroom, shutting the door so they could no longer hear the music downstairs. "I got you garlic bread and chez chips," he announced as he walked further into the room, sitting down opposite her on the floor.

"Thanks," she responded softly, watching as he placed the plate down in front of her. The meal had always been her comfort food, ever since she could speak. And it was always called Chez chips in their house as that's how she had first pronounced it.

He wordlessly pulled out a chessboard from under the bed, brushed off the dust, then began to set up the board. "She's not right you know, just insecure about herself," he reassured, letting her make the starting move of the game.

"Wish she wouldn't project onto me," Ciara replied softly, frowning somewhat when Cal refused to take his turn after. She finally looked up from the table and saw him looking down to the steaming bowl at her side. She sighed, knowing he would play his turn until she took a bite of at least something. He was fully and completely taking advantage of her love for chess and need to beat her brother in everything. So she sighed and picked up a chip, watching the satisfying cheese pull before she placed it into her mouth. He moved then.

They played a few turns each, Cal requiring her to eat something each time before moving. He knew how triggering of an environment this was for her so he wanted to be completely sure that she ate. It became such a habit within the game that she was taking bites not even on his turn, the game was distracting enough.

"What are you thinking about?"

"How much I loathe her. And trying to figure out how and why I could become that 'perfect' person in my head," she blurted the first thought on her mind, not fully intending to do so. "Maybe then she wouldn't be so fucking awful."

"You'll never become the person you have in your mind because it's physically impossible and even if you did, would you be happy?"

"People in magazines do and they're happy," Chip shrugged, taking another one of Cal's pieces with very little effort.

"Magazines aren't real Chip," Cal paused as he moved, the satisfying sound it made scratching something within her brain. "Check."

Ciara did not reply and instead kept her gaze fixed on the wooden board, trying to figure out a way that she could win and all the different pathways she could take to ensure that she would not loose. She moved a piece, he moved another. She took one of his, he one of hers then finally. Checkmate, only Cal had won. She frowned, staring at the board in complete disbelief. Had she really been that distracted not to see it? "Hey Chip, you know something good about Aunty Carolines?"

"Literally nothing," Ciara sighed softly, closing the book that had been discarded at her side.

"Ach that's where you're wrong. There's a long ass dirt track out back, perfect for... driving lessons."

She picked up her head, soft smile managing to make its way through the stormy exterior. She picks up her head. "Thought you didn't want me driving your precious vehicle," she joked, mimicking his very reply when she had asked to practise in Derry a couple weeks ago.

"You only live once and all," he shrugged.

Ciara visibly recoiled, cringing greatly. "You sound like Mammy," she grimaced, pretending that it was so sickening that it caused her to throw up.

"Alright alright I take it back."

"No! You can't take it back now," she laughed as she hopped up from the bed, running across to his room where she grabbed his car keys before he could even attempt to stop her.