Forgotten

Forgotten: Chapter Three

I stayed in a deep sleep until around eight that night. I listened, the house was still silent meaning my mom wasn't home from work yet. She worked at a little 24 hour gas station, so her shifts were often irregular.

My head was foggy and I felt sick to my stomach. My arm had bled through the bandages and into a sticky mess on my blanket.

I sighed, everything would be so much easier if I could just stop breathing.

I tried to move and immediately regretted it, an excruciating pain shot up from my stomach and I ran to the bathroom, emptying the little bit of food that was in my stomach into the toilet bowl.

I sat back and leaned my head against the cold tile wall. I couldn't do this anymore, I didn't want to.

Tears started to form, burning my eyes. I hated myself. I hated myself for being stupid enough to believe I could have a friend. I hated myself for being so weak and crying, I hated myself for wanting to die.

The tears fell faster and sobs racked my body. I sat there on the bathroom floor, curled up in a ball crying until I heard the front door open.

"Alice? I'm home," my mother called shutting the door.

"Yeah," I sniffed standing up, "I'm upstairs, I'll be down in a minute."

I looked at my eyes, they were red and puffy, my cheeks were blotchy and my hair was a mess.

I took the bandage off my arm and washed it off quickly, trying not to look at the mess.

Once my arm was rewrapped I went into my room and put on a old sweatshirt and sweatpants and headed downstairs.

"I think I'm getting sick," I said sniffing and rubbing my nose with the sleeve of my sweatshirt.

"Oh honey, do you have a fever?"

I shrugged, she put her hand on my forehead. "You're really warm, you should go on up to bed. I'll bring you some soup."

"That's okay, I'm not really hungry. I think I'm just going to try to sleep."

"Okay, well if you need anything you know where to find me."

I nodded and went up to my room.

I was tired, emotionally and physically. Everything hurt so badly. All I could do was try to sleep, something I've been doing too much of lately.

I stayed home from school for the next few days, of course no one cared that I was gone. By Friday I felt almost normal, but I decided to wait and go back on Monday.

I woke up Saturday morning feeling refreshed, I hadn't cut since Tuesday which was quite a long time for me.

The clock on my table said that it was 1:00, I stretched and debated getting out of the warm confines of my nest of blankets.

I finally got out of bed and looked at myself in the mirror on my door. I was wearing a long sleeve shirt from a summer camp that I worked at last year and striped short shorts with my hair in a messy, sleep ridden bun.

I hated my body, I hated the way my thighs almost touched, I hated that I wasn't a size zero like I so badly wanted, and I hated the little bit of fat that hung over the waistband of my shorts.

The floor creaked as I left my room, my mom was working all day today so I had the house to myself.

I went downstairs and sat down on the couch, turning on the tv and scrolling through the channels. I settled on some chick flick I'd seen a hundred timed.