She Told Me Not to Worry (SEQUEL to He Told Me Not to Tell) COMPLETE

58

Kenzie's POV

I waited a long time before getting out of bed in the morning. I knew Mom was going to want to talk about last night, but I didn't. I wanted to forget it ever happened, but I knew that was impossible.

I played out in my head what our conversation would be like. She'd ask me why I wasn't eating well, and I'd say I wasn't hungry. Then she'll point out that I'm never hungry anymore, and she'd ask what's wrong. I'd tell her that nothing is wrong and I just don't have a big appetite. She'll end up finding out about how I feel and be upset.

And that's the last thing I want to do, is make Mom upset.

Actually, it would worse if I disappointed her. And that's exactly how she'll feel if she finds out that I cut again last night. She kept telling me how proud she was that I hadn't in a while, but the only reason why I hadn't was she wouldn't let me. Now I have 5 new blades that she doesn't know about, and I can cut whenever I want. If she finds them, she'll be so disappointed. I'm terrified of the thought.

But right now, I have to focus on what we both know. We both know I had an issue eating last night, we both know I got really mad at her. How do I convince her that I'm not scared of eating? Because if I confirm that, she'd probably send me away somewhere.

Just eat. Eat a plenty big breakfast, then purge. She'll never know. She'll still think I'm perfectly fine with eating.

Finally, I built up enough courage to get out of bed and go downstairs. As I had thought, Mom was already up, making breakfast. We were having muffins and eggs.

"Good morning," she said once she noticed me.

"Morning," I responded.

"Hungry?"

I nodded, hoping she couldn't tell what I was actually thinking.

She gave me a plate of food, and I quickly finished it. I went back for seconds, even thirds, trying to be convincing. She seemed surprised, but satisfied.

"I need to talk to you," she finally said after I put my plate away.

"Right. But I need to use the restroom first."

Before she could respond, I made my way up to my restroom. I closed my bedroom door, then my bathroom door. I tried doing it as quickly as possible, but I had never made myself throw up before. It took several tries, but I wasn't going to give up.

Finally, I was successful. I flushed the toilet, washed my hads, then made my way back down to the kitchen table.

Mom had a look of concern, but I acted like I hadn't noticed.

"Why didn't you just use this bathroom?" She asked, pointing to the main restroom.

"You know how insecure I am about using the bathroom," I said, trying to avoid yet another issue to talk about.

She leaned back in her seat. "You know, usually when people purge, they try to cover up the vomit smell on their breath."