Free

Chapter 3

My dad shuffled past me, and walked down the stairs, I hurried after him.

Once he stepped off the last step onto the ground floor he walked into the

kitchen, I stood, lingering in the entrance to the kitchen from the living

room. He dialed a number into the phone, then put the phone to his ear.

What the hell is he doing, I thought.

"Yes, I'd like to talk to the admittance person.(Pause) Yes, hi my name is

Greggory Wyatt. I spoke to you last week on the phone about my daughter.

(long pause) Yes, Yes, her name is Gretchen Wyatt, she's 17. Date of birth

November 27th, 1997. Tomorrow? (Pause) 12 noon? Excellent, we'll be there.

Thank you, (Pause) you too.", he hung up with the mystery person.

"Dad," he didn't reply, I spoke louder, "DAD?"

"What Gretchen?"

"Who was that? Where am I going? What the hell is going on?"

"That was Ms. Leville she is in charge of The Hills Recovery Center."

"Recovery? Recovery From what?"

"Gretchen, I don't have time for you acting stupid."

"I'm not playing dad, I really want to know."

"You're ill, you have problems, Gretchen."

"So? I was sick, Dad, so I forgot to take down my throw up bags from my

room from when I was sick."

"Gretchen, sweetie, all the signs are pointing to you having an eating

disorder. You had bottles of empty diet pills, and a half full bottle,

you have food wrappers all under your bed, bags and bags of vomit, food

journals stating you make yourself puke. Gretchen, I even found toothbrushes

under your bed that reak and have little chunks in between the bristles. You're

sick. And you need to start packing your bags, we have a five hour car ride in

the morning."

"What about summer?"

"Summer, you'll have tons of summers after you finish high school next year.

But for now you just need to focus on getting better."

"I. Am. Fine.", I muttered under my breath, stomping my feet, as I headed

upstairs to my bedroom.

I started stuffing underwear and bras in the little zipper part of the inside

of my suitcase. Then, I got up and started searching in my closet for jeans that

made me look skinnier, size 0, size 1, size 0, size 0, size 3, size 1.... I stuffed

them into my suitcase, after I looked at the waist of one of the jeans, and thought

to myself, wow am I really that small. I got up and walked over to my full size mirror

and did a body check, hmmm, is this a trick mirror? why do I look so small for the first

time?

I got out my scale from my hidden spot in the closet.

The Scale read:

90.2 Pounds. (My lowest weight ever)

I should be happy, but I'm not. I finished picking out clothes to bring with me,

then went to bed at around 11:30 pm.

***

I woke up at around 6 am, and got ready for the trip immediately after; brushed my teeth,

combed my hair (cried as I watched hair fall to the floor in clumps), washed my face, put

on some fresh, clean clothes and slipped some shoes on. As I slipped the last shoe on, the

clock read: 6:45 and my dad was calling me down to leave.

I slammed the car door, and slipped my seatbelt on. My dad turned on the car, and some Led

Zeppelin song blasted through the speakers. I pushed my seat back and closed my eyes.

***

I woke up to my dad shaking me awake.

I opened my eyes, and saw The Hills. It was an old looking brick and stone made three building,

it was huge, and there were vines climbing up the walls of the building. The windows had bars on

the outside.

A short, stocky, mid 40's looking woman hurried down the old steps and into the yard to greet us.

"Hello, you must be Greggory, I'm Ms. Leville. And you must be gretchen! Hello, Welcome!", she said,

hugging me tightly.

My dad went back to the car and got out my suitcase.

"Welcome to The Hills." (AKA PRISON, OR HELL, I'LL DECIDE LATER)

***