Thin Line

Chapter 2

When I get to my room, I throw my backpack onto the floor.

That thing is way too heavy.

I then sit at my my mirror and wipe off all the makeup.

I wonder how people look at me during a conversation?

It must be hard to stare to my face for any time at all.

My brown eyes aren't special, but they could be worse, so maybe they just look at my eyes.

I feel bad for anyone who has to look at me.

"Sierra! Dinner!" My mom calls.

I sigh, I purposely stayed late at a local café to do more work in order to miss dinner, but I guess we are eating late today.

When I go downstairs I take my normal seat at the dinner table.

"I ate at the café." I lie. "So, I am not really hungry." I lie again.

I have yet to consume anything except water.

"Just eat a little bit and spend some time with us." My dad requests.

They are start piling food onto their plates.

My sister, Hannah, keeps putting food on her plate like it is nothing.

Knowing my parents will not accept me taking no food, I look at what is there.

If I don't take anything, they will put a piece of bread or something on my plate.

Deciding that taking something is better than whatever my parents will put on my plate, I grab the salad.

I cringe as I pile on about fifty calories worth of it onto my plate.

I pick up my fork and grab a single piece of lettuce.

Putting it into my mouth is a struggle.

"Do you want any dressing for that, Sierra?" My mom asks me.

"Oh, no thank you. I thing it ruins the flavor." I say. This is the first time in a while I didn't lie at the dinner table. I actually prefer salad without dressing, especially because it turns a fifty calorie meal to a one hundred and fifty calorie meal.

I eat as quickly as I can.

Every bite, like always, is a struggle.

Somehow, we all finish around the same time.

I have no idea how they finish their piles of food so quickly.

Do they not stop every bite and think about all the calories they are shoving into their mouths? The amount of fat they are putting into themselves?

After washing the dishes I head upstairs to shower.

"Sierra." Hannah says, stopping me on the way to the bathroom.

"Yes?" I ask my little sister.

"Why do you look different?" She asks me.

How can I reply to that?

"I don't." Is my genius reply.

"Yes, you do. Your face looks more white." She tells me.

"I think its this new product that I am using." I lie.

"But you also look thinner." She says.

"No, I don't." I tell her. If anything I have gotten bigger.

"Yes you do." She tells me.

"Well, maybe its because I've been walking more." I tell her.

"Oh, okay, I just want to make sure you are okay." She tells me.