Thin Ice

August

       Summer was slowly coming to an end, and I was still slowly losing weight. Today is August 16th and school starts next week. Brooke and I were on FaceTime for nearly 4 hours last night, we really just messed around and talked about a bunch of random stuff. I could literally say that she's one of my best friends. I sat in my dads driveway, watching her attempt to ride a ripstik. "I'm so not doing this right!" She giggled. I couldn't help but laugh myself, she's just so damn cute.

       She hopped off and walked over towards me. "Show me your wrists." She was trying to keep me clean. I lifted my sleeve to reveal a few healing scratches and a couple fresh cuts. She sat down next to me. "What happened?" I looked down. "I uh, I don't know." She put her hand on my back. "It's like... it's like a drug or something. Like I know it's bad, but I can't stop myself." I wasn't about to cry in front of her. "I know it's hard." She stood back up. "Let's do something." I gave her a sort of puzzled look. "Like what?"

Nearly half an hour later, I found myself sitting in a booth with Brooke at some food joint I'd never heard of. "I'll pay." Brooke said to me. "No, it's okay. I'm not getting anything." I was hungry, but I lied. "Aeron." She said "please eat something." I was quiet for a little bit, and I didn't want to give in. "One shake won't kill you." I looked back up at her. "Okay, I'll try." I was pretty nervous because I usually didn't let people see me eat, lead alone the girl I kinda like. Then I remembered how my uncle said "No girl wants a twig." I fell quiet again. I felt disgusting. Everyone else saw someone who was turning into a skeleton, but I just saw someone who looked like a rock, a fat, ugly, disgusting, worthless rock. I was snapped out of my thoughts when Brooke said "How is your arm feeling?" The cast was now loose on me. If I wanted to, I could simply slip it off. "It's better, the doctor said it'll be off in 2 weeks." I'm scared that the doctor will notice my weight. "Good, I'm glad you're doing better."

       Better? No. I was nowhere near better, I was like a toy car on a race track, I was the car with loose wheels that couldn't stay straight. "Brooke." I said quietly. "I'm scared." I didn't think I'd say those words, they were my thoughts, that I didn't want to except.
She put one of her hands on my arm, and the other on my cheek. "It's okay. Have you tried reaching out for help?" I shook my head. "You shouldn't be scared to ask for help, things will only get better from there." Maybe she was right, but then people might think I'm crazy. What do I do?

       Everything turned out alright after that, we drank our shakes, then went home. I felt sick to my stomach, I felt guilty for eating. Maybe I'll stop again.