- Walk It Off -

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Me:

Mom: Well? Aren't you going to eat it?

Me:

Mom: Come on, I spend my time making you a snack every day for when you get home, and you don't even eat it?

She was practically yelling at this point.

Me: .. Fine.

I'm forced to take at least 3 bites of the apple and peanut butter before she leaves my room. Have you seen how many calories are in that peanut butter? I feel sick. I've been told eating helps your stomach. Might as well just give up again. It doesn't. Besides, my mother will want me to make dinner soon. Walk it off.

"Mom, I'm going out, I'll be back in time to make dinner." I'm not sure if she heard me. I could care less, honestly. I live in town, so it's easy to walk to the store or school. I make sure I have my key and lighter with me. Flick. I walk to the store, which is about 10 minutes away, and grab a diet coke. Flick. I might just sit on one of the benches for a few, get some fresh air. Flick. Being with my mother feels like being trapped in a room with depleting oxygen.

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