desserted (brooklyn's story)

nine.

I walked out of my bedroom, 

and into the kitchen, 

mum sat there staring at me, 

I knew what she was thinking, 

'Will she eat this morning?' 

I sighed. 

Corey's words rang through my head, 

"Do you want to get better?" 

I walked to the fridge, 

grabbing out the milk, 

before heading to the cupboard, 

grabbing out a bowl, 

before pinching my brother's box of Coco Pops. 

I poured myself a small helping, 

sitting at the bench eating it silently. 

My mind was telling me to throw it at the wall, 

to run upstairs and get rid of the traitor, 

but I sat there telling myself it was helping, 

I gulped down spoonful after spoonful, 

before I was scratching the side of the bowl, 

surprised I had finished it. 

"Do you want me to make you lunch B?" 

Mum asked and I smiled, nodding. 

This was progress.

And progress was good.