Please Be There (An Anorexic Girl Story)

Please Be There Ch. 14

Chapter Fourteen

The next morning, I woke up to a treadmill in the living room. I jumped up, screamed, and hugged my brothers, no matter what they had done to me in the past.

I was also able to fool Mrs. Rose into thinking that I was eating. I ate a whole lot at lunch and no one noticed except Mrs. Rose. At the end of the class she asked me to stay behind. "Is there something wrong Mrs. Rose?" I asked.

"Brenda," She smiled, "You look amazing."

"Thanks," I smiled. I hadn't gained that much weight, but I did gain a little because my body was being starved and it quickly accepted the food.

"I think the therapy sessions might be working," Mrs. Rose nodded, straightening the papers on her desk.

"Mrs. Rose," I laughed, "I've only had one session."

Mrs. Rose looked up at me, and smiled widely. "I'm an optimist," She shrugged.

"Well I'm glad at least one of us is," I grumbled. Mrs. Rose didn't hear me, so I just smiled and walked out of the classroom. She didn't call after me which was good.

Making progress Brenda, I reminded myself.

I ate more and more that day just to show Mrs. Rose that I was getting better. I really was. Though the moment I got home, I changed into sweats, and plugged in my new treadmill.

No one was home so they wouldn't make fun of me. The reason I was wearing sweats was because they made you sweat more- thus losing more weight.

I ran at high speed for about an hour and a half. I had another therapy lesson today, so I was only allowed to run for a certain amount of time.

I was just getting off of the treadmill when Dunkin came home with Chester. "What's up with the freak show?" Chester asked.

"I was working out," I explained.

"In all sweats?" Dunkin laughed.

"It helps you sweat more," I huffed.

"Whatever floats your boat Brownie," Dunkin shrugged, and then sat down on the couch. Chester walked into the kitchen, shoving me out of the way in the process.

Daryl came strolling in and stopped in his tracks when he saw me. "Whoa, Brownie," He chuckled, "Went all out, didn't we?"

"Why can't everyone just leave me alone?" I shouted. I stormed up the stairs.

The sweats hung on me loosely. They were like weights on my shoulders. I gasped loudly, because suddenly I couldn't reach the top of the stairs. I had to force myself to crawl the rest of the way.

My muscles hurt, my vision was blurred. I rested my head on the stair, gasping for air.

"Everything alright up there Brownie?" Daryl yelled.

"Yes," I snapped.

God how I hated it when they called me Brownie. I hated that nickname so much. It brought tears to my eyes how much I hated that name.

I slowly crawled to my room, and kicked my door closed. Maybe if I took a warm shower, things would be alright. So I slid into my bathroom. The scale was near the shower, but I decided I would weigh myself after.

I turned the shower on, and only put the heat on. My bathroom immediately heat up, and steamed all over. I shed the sweaty clothes all over the floor.

Then I gently stepped into the shower. The hot water burned against my skin. I whimpered silently. It burned, I was dizzy, and I just wanted to crawl in bed and cry.

If I did that though, then people would suspect that something is going on. Nothing was though. I was fine. There was nothing wrong with me. I knew there wasn't. I just wasn't hydrated enough after working out so hard. That was it, right?

I stared down at my body, and got dizzy just at the sight of how skinny I looked. I used to hate girls that tried to get this skinny. Now I was one of them, though I had a logical reason. My reason was logical? Right?

"Brownie," Daryl yelled, "Someone's here to see you."

"Tell them I'll be down after my shower," I screamed.

I quickly washed my body, and then ran a half a bottle of shampoo through my hair. By the second I was getting dizzier and dizzier.

By the time I was done my shower, I had stumbled out. I was pretty sure I hit my forehead on the sink counter too. I wrapped my red robe around my body, and whimpered loudly.

"BROWNIE," Daryl screamed.

"GIVE IT A REST D," I yelled, "I'LL BE DOWN IN 10!"

I turned off the shower, and could hear Daryl grumbling downstairs. Was I late for my therapy session? Or was Mrs. Rose early? Hopefully she didn't see the treadmill. If she did I had no clue what to say to her? My plan would probably fall through.

After I had cleared the mirror of all the fog, I looked at my head. It was bleeding slightly. I wiped it off with my towel, but it still continued to bleed. At the sight of blood, my stomach started to get a little queasy.

I knelt in front of the toilet, and threw up. The problem was there was nothing to throw up. So inside the toilet, I just stared down at bubbly water. I choked on something. My own spit. God I was such a loser.

Once I was pretty sure that I was done throwing up, I sat back on the floor. Below me, I felt the scale spin below me. I hesitantly looked down and saw the number 90 in big letters. My eyes widened and a sob escaped my throat.

"Brenda? Are you in there?" Mrs. Rose asked.

"One minute," I begged, holding back another sob.

"Hon are you alright?" Mrs. Rose questioned. I was going to get up to lock the door, but I didn't have the strength.

"Please just leave me alone," I cried, "I don't want to go to your stupid therapy sessions! I hate them! I hate people questioning me! I hate it!"

"Brenda, please allow me to come in," Mrs. Rose begged, "And we'll talk about this like big girls."

"NO! Leave me alone," I screamed. Then I went back to the toilet. I threw up again, but this time it wasn't water. It was blood. I stared at the toilet in horror.

Mrs. Rose burst through the door, and stared at me. Before she could comment, I threw up blood again. Then I passed out on my bathroom floor.

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