Emily felt sick as she sat in Michael's car, blankly staring out of the window. The banter between Phoebe and her brother was background noise, insignificant in sound compared to her thoughts.
She had planned it out so meticulously in her mind while waiting for her food: eat only a third of the pasta, chew 25 times for each bite, and drink water every minute. But then the pasta had been set in front of her and before she could remind herself of her rules, she was putting more and more food into her mouth, even as her mind screamed at her to stop eating, you pig.
Emily felt bloated. Fat. Disgusting. Worthless.
The car came to a stop in front of her dorm building, and she got out of the car with unsteady feet, clinging to the door as if it was her lifeline. She mumbled a goodbye.
Before she closed the door, she caught the worried look Levi gave her. She looked away quickly, avoiding his questioning gaze.
Emily was already entering her dorm building when Michael's car disappeared around the corner a little further down the street. Her heart was like a ticking bomb, counting down the seconds to her breakdown, as she rushed up the stairs.
She made it to her room just in time, slamming the door closed as the tears started to well up in her eyes. An ugly sob escaped her, and she quickly slapped a hand over her mouth.
Pig. Disgusting. Worthless. Fat.
The words repeated themselves in her mind like a broken record. Emily wanted nothing more than to silence the cruel voice in her mind, but it continued to taunt her for what seemed like hours.
Her crying ceased as her phone vibrated in her pocket. Pulling it out, she looked at the caller I.D. and took in a shaky breath before answering the call.
"Hey, mom," Emily greeted, forcing her voice to sound cheerful. It was too easy to do.
"Hi, sweetie. I haven't talked to you in a while. "How has your first year of college been going?"
"It's been going great."
My life is falling apart.
"That's good. Are you doing okay?"
"Yeah, I'm doing fine."
I'm slowly dying every day, and I can't do anything to stop it.
"Good. So, I understand this is completely random, but your father and I have been talking about visiting your grandparents in San Francisco over the summer. How does that sound?"
"Sounds like fun, mom."
Help me.
"I'm sure you'll love it. There's so many great places to visit and foods to eat. Your grandparents are really looking forward to seeing you again. It's been so long since we've last visited them."
"Yeah, I can't wait to see them again."
Someone please help me before it's too late.
༻❁༺
Ugh, sorry guys I'm so bad at updating this story :/
But I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter nonetheless (even though it was downright sad)
YOU ARE READING
Help Line
Short StoryIn which a girl calls a help line and meets a boy on the other end who's willing to do anything to save her before she hits rock bottom. ༻❁༺ "Sorry. I shouldn't be calling you at such a late hour. I just..." "Needed someone to listen? Go ahead, love...