Yellow Roses

Chapter 8: Ava

I woke up to a burning sensation in my chest. Fuck, I feel like I'm going to throw up. Not even having a chance to rub my eyes, I sat up quickly and made my way downstairs to use the bathroom and find some food.

I slept terribly last night, so I'm up early before the rest of the household. After I peed, I slugged my way into the kitchen and saw the time on the microwave, it was 5:20 AM. I haven't eaten anything in 2 days, and have slept maybe a total of 6 hours within that span as well.

I knew the heartburn I was feeling was because I needed to eat something, but I just can't. Every time I close my eyes, the assault replays over and over in my head. I already had issues with my body before, but now I don't want a single soul to look at it ever again. I'm so traumatized it's made me lose my appetite and need to sleep. However, this nausea is fucking killing me.

I raided the pantry to find something small, and managed to get my hands on some saltine crackers. I tiptoed my way over to the kitchen table, being sure to not wake my parents upstairs, and quietly opened the bag inside the box. After tasting the first cracker, my stomach rumbled loudly. God damn am I starving.

I ate one, then two, and suddenly I had finished the entire sleeve. I still didn't feel satisfied, and looked around for more food I didn't have to cook. I found some cereal and decided to pour a bowl. As I sat back down again, I thought about how I needed to stock up my body to last me another few days, because I don't want to eat unless I have to.

I used to do this in middle school when I was insecure about my body, but I soon stopped when my friends started to get suspicious of how thin I was getting. However, right now, the routine seems oddly comforting.

About 15 minutes and several different items of food I ate later, I ran straight back to my room.

I feel fucking disgusting, like a complete fat ass. No wonder Derek didn't even look at me while he was screwing me. Why would anyone want to? I sat on my floor and stared at the pot hidden under my bed and thought about Angel pissing in it the same night my life was destroyed.

My friends discovered the pot one day when hanging out in my room. "Why do you have this in here?" Angel asked me. Panicked, I thought fast of an answer. "To throw up in when I've drank too much. My parents can't know about our sneaky drinking sessions." I answered. "Haha! Like a party bucket!" Liz responded. I nodded and agreed. "Yes! Exactly."

Ever since then, that's what they know it as. We did use it for that exact reason a few times in the past when my friends would sleep over and we had too much to drink, but nobody besides myself knows the real reason I keep this under there.

I pulled it out and tied my hair back before sticking my finger in my mouth, forcing myself to puke. I had it lined with a plastic bag, so I could simply tie it up and dispose of it when my parents aren't around. I kept throwing up until I couldn't anymore, and now I feel much better. Less insecure of myself too.

I checked the time, and noticed it's my normal time to get ready for school. God, I do not want to go, but I have to. I can't skip forever. I haven't seen Derek yet at school, but if I did, I'm not sure how I'd react.

I tried to stop thinking about that, and just get dressed and leave.

—-

I arrived at school and saw the rest of my friends near my locker. Angel was dressed up today, which was odd.

"So how long did it take you to curl your hair? It looks so pretty!" Carrie squealed. "Not very long actually. I'm thinking of doing it more often."

Before I had a chance to chime in, the bell for first period rang. I hate that my first class of the day is gym. However, it does help me wake up sometimes.