Skinny • Book 1 In The Reality Series

Katy

My heart pounding and my mind swimming, I stared down at Sam whose head was resting in my lap as he slept, his thumb crammed in his mouth, moving forward and backwards slightly when he woke up enough to suck it, only to doze off again every so often.

I could hear the bony, spider like woman, Nancy, or our foster Mom, as she referred to herself, downstairs cooking dinner.

Tantalizing smells wafted up the stairs from the kitchen along with the violin music she had playing from the CD player on the counter.

I could hear her son in the next room playing a video game, as gunshots and the laughter, curses and angry shouts from he and his friends traveled through the thin wall separating my room from his.

His dad, Nancy's husband was due back any moment from work, his suit as crisp as when he left the house and his briefcase held tightly in his hands.

They were a perfect family, an idealist portrayal of what everyone was supposed to be.

Big house?

Check.

Perfectly mowed lawn?

Check.

Backyard pool?

Check.

Beautiful skinny stay at home mom?

Check.

Athletic, handsome son?

Check.

Dutiful working father?

Check.

It was almost enough to make me sick.

It was only my second day in the house and already I loathed it.

Apart from my bed, every piece of furniture in the house looked like the perfectly placed to be seen and not touch room displays at a furniture store.

The paintings on the walls gave the hallways a museum like quality, making every step along them I took feel as if I were crossing an invisible line.

The carpets were too plush, the floors to shiny, the mirrors too clean. It had startled me the night before when I'd gone to brush my teeth and I'd seen myself for the first time the way others saw me. Not as a dingy reflection but as a person, and it had sickened me.

I hadn't eaten dinner the night before, I'd slept through breakfast and thrown out my lunch. I figured Nancy would interject at some point demanding that I eat, or encouraging me to at the bare minimum, however I think my size intimidated her and so she let me starve.

It wasn't like I was missing out though. The food was always gross. The kind of food on the menu at fancy restaurants that only gray haired men and women on double dates either to show up their so called friends dare order.

Grilled salmon, asparagus and some kind of repulsive spinach salad with fruit in it seemed to be a crowd favorite. A 'delicacy" which turned my stomach just thinking about it.

They didn't eat rice, they ate couscous. They only drank water, or wine, and their idea of a snack was celery and carrots. They ate their meals late, and insisted you clean your plate in order to receive the inch long piece of cake Nancy was rationing out for dessert.

Needless to say Sam was having a hard time adjusting. He looked to have lost weight which didn't surprise me since his stomach was grumbling quietly as he slept on my lap.

He hadn't left my side since I stepped foot in the house and I had no intention of leaving his, quite the opposite actually.

I wanted to leave the house, fleeing into the night never seeing the plastic dollhouse people that were the, Wilson family ever again, and I wanted to take Sam with me.

After everyone went to sleep we were going to run away. We'd be better off that way I convinced myself looking down at the backpack in which I'd crammed both of our belongings.

We'd leave at one, after Mr. Wilson returned up to bed after his midnight snack. We'd run to the end of the street and that's where Ashton would be waiting to take us away.