Battle Scars

twenty four

"This looks like a horse took a shit on a plate and then someone decided to sprinkle it with sugar." Claire says as I shovel a good-sized chunk of meatloaf on my tray.

I chuckle and grab a fork. "Thanks for that. It's gonna be hard to eat this now." I joke. "If its not already too damn hard to eat."

See, here's an example on how this place has changed me. I'm eating now. Regularly. Like a normal human being.

I smile to myself at the thought. Turning around, I see Ethan with his back facing my way. He's talking to someone.

I peek around with the tray in my hands to see who he's chatting with. I frown as a familiar obnoxious face pops out in my direction.

"Excuse me bitch, this is not your conversation." Emily yells over at me.

I ignore her and give Ethan a brief grin, walking over to the girls' table with my tray of food.

I begin slowly nibbling on my dinner, trying my best to enjoy the everyday meatloaf.

Don't get me wrong, meatloaf is amazing, but when it's an everyday meal at seven o'clock, and it's hospital food, it's no longer that great.

I hear a sigh and a thud in front of me. I look up and see Robin joining my table for dinner.

"Room for one more?" She smiles sadly through depressed eyes and matted hair, her crooked eye facing away from my direction.

"Yeah.. yeah of course, Robin."

She begins to peacefully eat. One bite at a time, I watch as her food slowly starts to dissappear. I reach onto my tray and slide her my packaged brownie.

Without saying a word, she nods once and her weak smile grows larger.

.     .     .

I sit in the bathroom as the rest clean up their food, holding my stomach in my hands and looking up at the ceiling.

This happens from time to time. My body is so used to limited food intake, so when I actually eat a good amount of food, it ends up coming right back up.

My head starts to ache. I squint in pain and try to cough to get it all over with.

I hear a knock on the door. "Amber? Are you in there?"

I quickly stand up and flush the toilet. "Yeah! Just using the bathroom!" I croak.

I wash my hands and open the door. Michelle stands with a cup of water in one hand, and a little container in the other.

"Oh, hey." I say, in the most I-definitely-don't-feel-nauseous way possible.

Michelle grins and hands me the two items. "Denvelose. Your new nighttime medication, remember?"

"Oh, yeah, of course." I say as I swallow the small capsule.

Michelle raises an eyebrow as I hand her back the empty cups. "Are you alright?" She asks.

I nod. "Swell."

She shrugs it off and asks me to open my mouth for pill check.

"Don't worry, Michelle. I wouldn't want to have a collection of depression meds anyway."

Michelle laughs and pats my shoulder. "It's just procedure, kid. You're fine."

After a brief moment of small talk, she tells me everyone is outside.

"Oh, right. Yeah, I'll be out there in a sec." I say.

She nods and walks away. As soon as she dissappears out of my view, my stomach churns. I turn around and vomit up my dinner in the single-bathroom toilet. Unintentionally.