Weightless

20) Plans

15th of June 2017

"Is it illegal?"

Paul Sanderson scoffs. "Illegal? My darling, I'm a policeman. That information alone should answer your question."

Mollie sits on the edge of the sofa, watching him tap away at his laptop. His eyes are fizedonto the screen, his body tense as his mind concentrates. It's not tricky business, he'd said, but he was deeply fixated onto this task. Perhaps wary of getting it wrong, knowing how much it means to her. Mollie's phone rests in his hands, which he looks down at occasionally but then straight up again at the laptop.

He's fully engrossed in the task she gave him; the one of tracking down Ethan.

"Don't you worry." He says as she fidgets. "I know what I'm doing."

"I'm starting to have second thoughts, Dad." Ever since her plan to lure Ethan back using his brother had failed, she's been considering this possibility. Now, she's unsure.

He stares up at her for a bit, surprised. And then he looks down at the laptop again. "You asked for a reason. No backing out. Don't even think about it."

"Yeah, but what if he gets upset?"

"From what you've told me, if nobody gets to him soon, he won't be able to be upset. Dead people can't feel anything," he says. Mollie looks down. She doesn't like what he's saying. Her Dad looks up at the same time she does. "Not eating. Tricky business. I hope it's some sort of phase, love, even. It sometimes is."

"I hope it is too."

"Hmm," he stops, deep in thought. "I'm glad you weren't like that. Dieting. But not properly. You know? I'm glad. You're my healthy girl. You know you're lovely. Nothing to change."

Mollie forces a smile. She doesn't need him to compliment her but it does cheer her up a fraction. "Thanks, Dad."

"Hmmm. Don't go copying his habits, yes?"

"Dad, as if," she says, sounding all of fifteen years old again. "I would never, you know that. Ethan's ill. I know that, even if Cal hasn't faced it."

Her Dad smiles at the screen of his laptop. There's nothing to smile about, really. But he is.

"What?"

"Even when you seem mad at Cal, you still say his name so lovingly. I'd like to meet him before the wedding, please."

"Wedding?!" Mollie sounds more alarmed than she meant to. "There's no wedding on the horizon, Dad," she feels bad for saying that. "Not yet, anyway."

"Teasing," her Dad grins. "Ah. Here we go," the room seems to go colder. Mollie edges forward.

"What?" She says immediately. "What is it?"

His face is darkened. His face is now serious - but satisfied - and his voice is lower as he claims: "I've got a location, love."

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17th of June 2017

He's eating. It's uncontrollable. His stomach growls for food, his body pining for it. He cannot stop.

Careless shoving, chewing, swallowing, the same process repeating endlessly. With every mouthful, it seems like he grows more. His mind is hyper-aware of the fat attached to his body - the multiplying fat. It's like he's an ever-growing balloon. The seams of his clothes are ripping. Buttons are holding on by a loose thread. He can't even breathe, suffocated by... himself. He's eating so much he can't take in a breath. Calories are quickly transforming into stones which build him up.