Maybe Then...

Chapter 33: if I had shut the door

If I had shut the door,

Maybe then, Daniel wouldn't have seen that

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Dan and I stayed like that for a little while, mostly silent except for my crying, though I'm not sure how long we stayed there. I just know that aunt Ruby came home to find her son hugging a weeping girl, traces of vomit on her shirt, on the dirty bathroom tile.

I barely peered up from my hands when Dan stepped outside to explain to his mom the gruesome scene he bared witness to. Guilt weighed down on my chest as I realized how disturbing it must have been to walk in on such a revolting sight.

I scolded myself for not shutting the door before-hand. Why would I do something like that? How could I even consider doing such a thing? I sat hunched over myself, hugging my knees, curled up in a little ball of my own looping shame replaying over and over again. I felt so bitterly disgusted with myself. The disgusting aftertaste left in my mouth didn't help me to forget why I was upset. 

After what felt like hours of being left alone to my own misery, enduring the incoherent mumbles from outside the bathroom, aunt Ruby finally came in. She plastered a sad smile onto her face that didn't come close to reaching her eyes. "Hey, sweety," she said softly. She offered me her hand. "Let's get you into some clean clothes, okay?" 

Without making eye contact, I put my hand in hers and let her pull me up. She walked me into my room where she left me to get changed. A minute later, I walked back into the hallway with a clean shirt on, still refusing to look her in the eye. She wrapped me up in a hug, stroking my hair gently. "It's okay," she soothed. 

"I'm sorry," I said, my words muffled into her chest. 

"You're not in trouble. It's okay." She pulled away and looked at me, giving my shoulders a brief squeeze. "Come on," she said, her hand on my back as she lead me downstairs. 

Dan was sitting at the table, a hand running through his ruffled hair. He looked up from his phone at us. 

"Could you go upstairs for a bit, please?" aunt Ruby asked. It seemed like more of an instruction than a question. 

He obliged without argument, leaving us alone to sit on the couch. 

She rested a hand on my knee. "So, would you explain to me what Dan saw, please?" 

I bit my lip. "I made myself throw up." 

"And why did you do that?" 

My hand twitched a little. "I didn't want what I ate to be in my stomach." 

"How long has this been going on?" 

"It was the first time." 

"Have you done anything else with food? Have you been restricting calories, exercising too much?" 

I shuffled uncomfortably. "I've skipped some meals." 

She rubbed my back at the notice of my tenseness. " Why are you trying to lose weight?" 

"I'm not," despite the fact that I was telling the truth, my tone seemed not so convincing. 

"You're not in trouble, Amelia," she assured me. 

"But I'm not lying," I protested. 

"So why are you skipping meals?" 

Why am I skipping meals? That was a question I don't know exactly how to answer. "I don't know. It's hard to explain." 

She pursed her lips. "How long have you been doing that?" 

"Not even a week." 

She nodded. "I'm going to have to tell your grandpa about this, okay? Unless, you want to tell him?" 

I didn't hesitate to shake my head. I already saw the disappointment in his face when he found out I quit, and I didn't feel like seeing it again any time soon. 

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I was awoken Tuesday morning by the buzz of my phone vibrating my nightstand. I felt around for it, my covers still over my head. I brought it underneath the covers with me and turned it on, squinting at the sudden brightness glaring from the screen, and quickly turning the brightness down. Once my eyes adjusted to the light, I saw an explosion of text messages, all from the same group chat I had created a little more than a week ago. I scrolled back to the oldest message I hadn't seen yet. It was a one lined message from Dan, sent last night. 

Dan: band's together again

The rest of the messages were from the other three, asking what he meant, him answering, and further questions and answers. I quickly skimmed through the messages, not bothering to answer at the end of the chain of responses. I turned my phone off with a groan, rolling back over to the cool side of my pillow. I knew what he was doing; he felt bad about what I've been going through. He wanted to make me feel better somehow. It was a nice thought that was ticking me off. I didn't want his pity. All it did was remind me of my shortcomings, and made me feel like people only cared about me out of obligation, or because they felt bad for me. He was one of the few people who didn't play along with that crap, and now, he suddenly wanted to make me feel better. Did I bring this upon myself? Was it all because I didn't shut the bathroom door? Poor Daniel had that image burned into his memory because I didn't take precautions. Stupid!

I got back onto my phone and replied to the group chat. If Dan was going to start the band again because of me, he had to be okay with saying why. 

Me: why? 

Kyle: What do you mean why?

Me: why did Dan all of a sudden change his mind? 

Kyle: Idk, ask him.

I waited a moment for a message from Dan to arrive, but there was no reply. No sooner than when I clicked out of the messages did another one come in.

Dan: because I decided we've had a long enough break.

I rolled my eyes at the lame excuse. Couldn't he have come up with something better? Something more...believable?

I went into the messages between me and Haley. She never messaged me back after last week, and up until that point, I didn't bother messaging her either.

I typed in a long message explaining that I couldn't talk to him because he was the problem. I explained what had happened, how hurt and used I felt, and the drastic measures I took to ensure that I wouldn't have to go near him again. I detailed how much I needed a friend, and how isolated and numb I felt.

And then I deleted it. I erased it without ever hitting send, wishing that it could be as easy to erase my memories of these past two weeks as it was to erase the words on a screen. I poured a lot of emotion into that text message, yet no one other than myself ever ended up reading it.

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Hey! How have you all been? Thanks for the support.

I'd been struggling a bit with writing this book lately, as I don't want to write about these topics like they're minimal, but I also don't want to define my girl (Amelia) by her struggles. No one is their struggles.

What were your thoughts on this chapter?

What do you think about her reluctance to open up?

What do you think will happen next?

Love you! <3