brittled mind

1

December weather hits harshly on my face but it takes so long for me to notice. A final lap approaches as the street lights flicker yet the sun starts to come up. My toes feel like rocks and my cheeks have tears nearly frozen. I want to scream but don't think I have enough oxygen to permit that. "One more lap, you fatass" I tell myself. "Up a pound means punishment" my rules come to haunt me. I hate running. I've always hated running. Ironically, it's what I seem to do to cope anymore. I see my house as the sun comes up behind. "Too slow to beat the sun," I flush with shame.

When I unlock the door I find it silent still. My mom had already left for the office and everyone else was sleeping. I quickly change into something suitable for classes, style my hair half heartedly, and begin my descent down towards breakfast. I core the apple, taking two slices and cutting them into eighths. I take a tablespoon of my mom's low calorie protein powder to keep my strength and coat the apple bits in it. I get through one slice before I'm full. And even that catches me by surprise.

[
I wasn't always so low on appetite. I was never overly hungry, in fact I'd say pretty normal. But when your mom adopts a lifestyle of paleo and refuses to acknowledges the fact that on days you're not cripplingly anxious you're too depressed to speak, it may be easiest to whittle your intake down. It's been years but only months since people started to care and weeks since I have acknowledged it's not exactly normal.
]

I see the sun creep up so I walk down to catch the bus. It's a lonely ride to school.
"Hey Len, can I steal your notes for the trig test today?" Ethan, my friend, says way too awake. My heart stops. "Trig test?" I gulp. My mind races wondering how I could have forgotten. Ethan laughs. "C'mon man you always ace that shit I just need it to pass," he shrugs. "I completely forgot. I feel my stomach drop. I'm a failure. I'm a failure. I'm a failure. "Len are you okay? You seem out of it lately," Ethan asks. "What? Oh yeah I'm great," I smile and before he opens his mouth, the warning bell rings.

I fumble for my water bottle in class. I love hearing my chest pound as I drink it. I feel empty as I can feel each droplet flow into my stomach. Mrs. Rosetti passes back our English papers, but lately seeing an A has been both less enjoyable but ironically more important. It feels meaningless until I achieve lower. After class she calls me to her desk. "Leonard, I don't know how to ask this, but are you feeling okay?" her face reads concern. I smile and nod. "I'm worried about you. You seem disconnected and less interested," she sighs. "I'm sorry, Mrs. I promise I'll study harder," I reply.
"No it's not that, you're doing great. I'm just worried, you don't seem well,"
"Oh don't worry, I'm fine! Thanks for checking," I say goodbye and hurry out.

I pass Ethan's locker on my way to trigonometry and pray he's not still waiting for the notes. I sigh with relief to see he's gone and hurry up the stairs. I'm fixated on keeping my feet on the floor and not tripping.

The test is foreign to me. I swear we didn't learn any of this. My mind scatters searching for any recollection but I know I must turn in a failed exam. I stand up but to my surprise the lights disappear and my legs grow weary. A gasp is hard but I remember nothing after hitting the floor.

I see the dim lighting of the nurse's office. Fuck I must have made a scene to end up here. I hear a familiar voice around the corner. "Denzel Harperton, is everything okay?"
"Oh you're Leonard's father, come right in," the nurse led my dad over to see me.
"How you feeling there?" She asks me. I just smile and explain that I feel fine.
"What happened?" My dad looks worried and I shield it with a smile. "You son fainted in his math class. I checked him out and I wouldn't rush to the hospital but I would take him home to rest today. Make sure he's hydrated and resting," she smiles sweetly. "Len, why don't you get your stuff and I'll sign you out," he says, however he's pulling out a chair to sit in. I walk out and see Mrs. Rosetti and the guidance counselor heading in. My heart skips a beat and I gulp hard.

Relax, Len, it's not like they have anything bad to say.

Yeah exactly they just want your dad to know you fainted because your body can't hold up all the fat.

So hey you'll get to keep dieting.

All these internal conversations kill me. I'm depressed and I know it but why would my teachers care? I've never let it interfere what makes today any different?

After collecting my stuff I go back to the nurses office and they're all still sitting. My dad gets up, thanks them all and smiles deeply at me.We walk silently to the car. " wanna stop for lunch?" He asks. "Oh uh thanks dad but I'm not feeling too well," I try to make it realistic. "Eh well I'm hungry. Let's go," I can feel his intentions are anything but what I want.

We sit down and he orders for me after I refuse. "Can you eat some just to keep your strength up?" He suggests. I pull every trick I know. "Len, I know you're not well," he gulps and puts his fork down. "I've known it. I've seen you spit into your napkin and cut everything into such small pieces and I ignored it," he sighed. "Dad don't worry, I don't even know half of what you're talking about," I force a laugh.

"I can see it. You've evaporated. Your eyes bulge out of your skull and I know you've always been thin but this is," he breathes
"This is terrifying. I've been watching my own son starve himself to death and told myself it wasn't happening," he grew quiet. I just stared at the ground. "Your English teacher told me your friends are worried. You don't eat lunch, you run before school, and have a stash of diet pills in your locker," his lip trembled. Those assholes went in my locker?! Talked about me behind my back?!
"Dad, I appreciate you caring but there's nothing to worry about. I've just been busy. It's not like I have some weird diet thing going. Me of all people? I'm a black teenage guy that is nearly impossible," I scoffed.
"Your mother said the same thing. But she's got her own food problems and it's blinded her from seeing what you're doing," he said. We both sat in penetrating silence for a few seconds. "Will you try to show me I'm overreacting? I don't want this to get any worse, please start eating," he had tears in his eyes. I felt nothing. It felt like a plot, some obscure plan to make me lose everything I've worked on. I simply nodded and smiled. "Then eat your sandwich," he commanded. I awkwardly ate as he watched. Would it be a giveaway if I asked to use the bathroom? I could feel my stomach screaming at me to get it out. I decided it would be a short enough ride home I could vomit there. We sat in the car listening to the radio as my dad tightly gripped the steering wheel.

I went upstairs to finish homework but stopping in the bathroom first.

Splat!

Freedom. I was undoing everything. It was what was necessary to keep this secret safe. I kept going till I saw blood- which was no longer uncommon.

I had to step on the scale.

I breathed out deeply.
104
I was able to lose two pounds from this morning. I know it's mostly water weight but I'll take it.

I was 141 pounds this time last year. I was already obsessed but not thin enough. I'm somewhat ashamed it took this long to be small enough to cause concern. I've never weighed over 150, which put me at a bmi of 21.5 but I was instantly ashamed and vowed to shrink.

I'm nowhere near where I want to be but I'll get there.

I just have to get skipping dinner past my dad and then I'm in the clear