Pirouette

3: Does Ya Mama Know?

As Fiona came home that evening and dumped her bag on the kitchen floor next to the dining table, she found her mom looking over her shoulder at her, giving her a smile. "Hey, honey. How was your day?"

Fiona crept into one of the chairs and pulled her leg up. "It was okay. Nothing special."

Her mom gave her a quick assessment from the stove where she was cooking dinner. "You look worn out. Are you hungry?"

"Yeah..." She fiddled a little with the cutlery on their minuscule dining table. "What's for dinner?"

"Roasted chicken with sweet potatoes, béarnaise sauce and a green salad."

"Sounds great." She offered her mom a small smile before she turned back to stirring the pot again. She then let out an exhale. Why did she always cook so calorie-fed food?

They ate together and talked about everything and nothing. Fiona listened to her mom tell her about the day she'd had at the diner she worked at while Fiona nibbled on the small piece of chicken she had selected and managed to eat one whole potato. She left the sauce untouched but dug into the salad, eating as much as she could. By the time her mom was done eating, Fiona had been done for 15 minutes.

"Thank you for dinner," She said as she washed her plate and cutlery clean and put them back in the cupboard and drawer where they belonged. "I'm gonna go take a shower and get started on my homework."

"Alright, hon. Call if you need help," Her mom said as Fiona picked up her bag and headed for her room. "No staying awake past 11pm. I'll be checking on you!"

"I won't." Fiona promised before she quickly closed the door to her room. Dumping her bag down again, she let out a shaky sigh and closed her eyes, simply just leaning back against the door for a moment.

Then she went into the bathroom.

She locked the door and turned on the shower before turning to the toilet and flipping the seat up. She crouched down on all fours and took a deep breath, then she closed her eyes and stuck a finger down her throat as far as it went.

Her dinner came up with an acid-like taste that burned her throat all the way. She retched two more times, then coughed and quickly hit the flusher. Leaning back on her feet, she closed the toilet lid again and raggedly breathed.

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

The taste of vomit lingered in her mouth, but she was used to it by now. She slowly got up and grabbed her toothbrush. She scrubbed her mouth clean before stripping down and then finally stepped under the spray of the shower.

The calming effect of the water eased her tight muscles and made her relax at last. The day had been beyond what she could mentally handle, but somehow she had pulled through. She had no idea how.

After about half an hour of rinsing her skin and washing her hair, she stepped out and wrapped a towel around herself. Her frizzy curls would be a mess to tame, but oils always made it easier. She lotioned her skin and flossed her teeth to get anything she had missed, then stepped out of the bathroom and into her bedroom again.

Her school bag waited for her by the door.

With a sigh, she tiredly walked up to it and grabbed what she needed. She splayed out her homework on her bed and got to work.

Today had been hard. Tomorrow would be harder. She had no idea what she was going to do. She wanted this so badly, but the fear inside her locked her limbs and made it nigh impossible for her to see how it was going to be possible.