Untouchable

Low

A/N: I apologize so much for disappearing for like a month, but school started, and I've just been so tired I haven't been able to motivate myself to write. But I finally found some down time, and I pushed through my fatigue.

Enjoy :)

___________________

I think the problem here is there's nothing wrong . . .

Spring break - A break from school; a break from hell; a break from sadness; a break where I could just forget all my problems. Or so I thought.

The first day away from that hell hole I got dragged to a restaurant with my dad, his former band, and Carly. Usually, I'd be excited as hell to see her, but with my new formed secrets, I felt more ashamed than anything. I couldn't let anyone know about my so called issues--they really weren't issues, they kept me alive, but it was only from the thrill of playing Russian roulette.

"Let's go Taylor!" my dad called from the living room.

I dropped my foundation in surprise. My dad's voice completely startled me. I bent down, picked up the bottle, capped it, and set it on the counter. I examined my arms, double checking that all the scars were covered. If you looked close enough, you could still see them, but they certainly weren't as noticeable as before.

I pulled down my sleeves, and rushed to my closet to put on a hoodie, before walking out into the living room.

"Let's go, we're gonna be late," he said as he started making his way down the stairs.

I rolled my eyes--like he cared about punctuality. I followed him down the stairs, and braced myself for the drive ahead.

I guess that I can coast along for now

The smell hit me like a brick wall. It felt like a fully loaded semi truck rammed into me at top speed--I almost doubled over by the hunger pang it caused me.

Holy shit, I thought. How the hell am I supposed to survive tonight.

I followed my dad at a distance, as we made our way to the others, who were situated in the corner of the Red Robin. Carly waved me over, inviting me to sit beside her.

I sighed, and forced a fake smile onto my face. Fear shot through me from the thought of having to put food into my stomach. I didn't want to binge eat. I had gone a solid month and a half without binging--that was a part of my life I never wanted to go back to. The over-eating and throwing up after made me feel disgusting. Not eating made me feel cleansed. How dare these people force me to hate myself even more.

The only healthy thing this grease hole made would probably be a salad - would it be suspicious if I ordered it without that fatty dressing? Small conversations arose at the table. Mike was talking about his sons nineteenth birthday. That he couldn't believe how fast he had grown up; how he wished he could've been with him more. My eye flicked to my father, sitting across from Mike, eyes down, hand balled in a fist. I wondered if he was full of regret. Wishing he could've been a father to me.

There's something missing

But he probably didn't care. He was too wrapped up in the wife he lost fifteen years ago. Sure it was a big loss, but God damn, it happened fifteen years ago. He needed to stop being so selfish and get over it. But, even if he got over it and learned to love me, it was too late. I was never going to forgive him for the life he stole from me.

Pulling from the conversation, Carly turned to me. "So," she said dragging out the word. "Any boys?" A cheeky smile appeared on her face.

I huffed. "No. No boys."