Thin Line

Chapter 23

"Sierra." Justin says, pulling me into a tight hug after I open the front door of my house.

"You couldn't wait until tomorrow to see me?" I joke, knowing we will obviously see each other in the morning.

"I haven't seen you in a few days, how could I wait any longer?" He jokes back, remembering his final visit to the rehab facility last Sunday.

"Here, come in." I say, inviting him into my house.

"Justin!" My little sister exclaims before running up to Justin and hugging him.

"Justin, hi." My Mom says greeting him. "Sierra, will you please go up to your room?" My mom asks.

"Why?" I ask her.

"Sierra." She says in a harsh tone.

I leave Justin with my mom and go up to my room.

Why does my mom want to talk to him?

Did he not even come here for me?

Is he only here because my mom asked him to come over?

Is he even here for me?

I'm sure they are talking about me down there.

My mom probably just wants someone watching me in school, for the ten days we have left.

After that, I'm not sure what she will do.

Hannah is going away for camp as she does every summer, and my parents will be working full time.

She's not going to just leave me alone all day by myself.

She doesn't trust me anymore.

She is never going to leave me alone again.

She is never going to let me miss a meal again, no matter how sick or full I am.

For the rest of my life, everyone is going to be shoving food down my throat.

The three meals I've eaten since I got home have all taken longer than any meal I ate in the last six months.

I though I cried a lot up there during meal time, but those tears do not even compare to the ones at the dinner table last night.

Everyone told me it would get easier.

They told me with time, improvements would come.

Yet I see no sign of any of that.

It hasn't gotten any easier.

I have learned the dangerous of not eating, I have realized that it almost killed me, I know that I need to eat to be healthy.

That doesn't make eating easier. Nothing does.

I sit on my bed and wait for my mother to call me downstairs.

What could they be talking about that I can't be there for?

I know they are talking about me, obviously.

I know they are worried.

I know they are all living in constant fear that I am going to starve again.

I know they are worried that if a next time happens, that I may not survive it.

I know how fearful they are.

I know that they are down there bonding over their fears for what may occur in the future if they don't all work together to prevent this all from happening.

I know that she is telling him all the doctor told her so he could help keep me on the path I am currently on.

But why won't she let me hear any of it?