'Till Death Do We Part

Back To School

Somehow I don't even remember falling asleep last night, but sure enough, when I lift my head up from my tear stained pillow, lines of pale light softly streams in through the slightly ajar blinds, illuminating the room. I roll over so I'm laying on my side, and I immediately clutch my stomach. The stabbing pain all throughout my abdomen is intensified by a low grumble, and I realize how desperately I yearn for food, to fuel my aching body.
Despite winching when my feet hit the ground and nearly falling backwards when I attempt to stand up, I ignore these hunger pangs like I've done countless times before. I slowly make my way over to my full length mirror, and pull off my hoodie and jeans. Staring back at me is a girl with lengthy, tangled brown hair, a matching pair of chestnut eyes, and pale skin with hallowed out cheeks. Above average sized light pink lips, a slender nose protrudes outwards. My eyes glide downwards as I observe my frail frame. Overly prominent collar bones create a straight line on my shoulders; my ribs casting shadows, and hip bones jutting out like knifes. Even with my bony knees plastered together, the light shines in through a large gap between my thighs. I lift my stick like arms above my head, causing my ribcage to appear even more. I stand there for what seems like hours, scanning my figure with millions of thoughts swarming through my mind.
"Emily?It's time for school." My mothers voice accompanied with two soft knocks from outside my door causes me to quickly spin around and slip on some clothes while answering back in a casual tone; "Ok mom, I'll be out in a second." 10 minutes later, I'm sitting at the round kitchen table with my teeth and hair brushed, and wearing another pair of thrifted jeans and a hoodie. A bowl of generic corn flakes and milk sits in front me, staring me in my face and taunting me.
"Why don't you eat me?" It says, "Just eat me."
Silently, I argue with it. No, I won't; I think, balling my hands into fists and dig my brittle nails into my palms. I don't want to. I don't need to. I'm snapped back into reality when my mother plops down in the chair across from me. I look up at her, releasing the tension in my hands and jaw.
"You've been staring at your cereal for a few minutes now. Are you ok, darling?" She appears to be concerned, reaching over the table to stroke my hair.
I take a deep breath and attempt to calm myself. "Yeah, I'm fine," I mange to say finally, "Just thinking about going to school again."
She nods, indicating that she understands, and I'm secretly grateful she doesn't bring it up again. I could laugh at myself for having a silent conversation with a bowl of cereal; I know how insane I seem. I'd probably seem even more insane if I just randomly started cracking up at the breakfast table, so I refrain.
Besides, I'm far from an amusing mood right now.
A few minutes later, I'm walking with Officer Sadie on the pavement leading towards my high school. I haven't stepped foot in there for months now, and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a nervous wreck.
All I hear is cars whizzing by, indistinguishable chatter, and our synchronized footsteps making contact with the sidewalk; neither of us dares to say a word. This is perfectly fine with me, as I would chose to not be forced the hold a polite conversation with an officer if given the choice.
Suddenly, Officer Sadie halts and places a firm hand on my left shoulder, causing me to stand completely still. She turns to face me, her blonde hair swishing slightly with the wind, and her cobalt eyes staring straight through me.
"I know you're nervous, but you're going to do great, hun. In fact, I'm the least worried about you. You seem like a nice kid who, unfortunately, got pulled into some bad things as a result of peer pressure."
I'm stunned and shocked at her words. I'm tempted to go into a rage filled rant about how I chose to live my life the way I do, and I'd much rather be with my friends than be forced to go back to school. However, I contain my composure and offer a string of words that while untrue, are more respectful.
"Yes, I suppose so," I say, meeting her gaze, "I promise to do my best."
I end my sentence with my sweetest, most fake smile, which is returned with a genuine one from the lady standing before me.
Officer Sadie nods, releasing her hold on me. She then directs me to the entrance of my high school, watching me like a hawk until the double doors shut behind me.
I sigh, and begin my stride down the crowded hallway.
And so it begins.