Skinny • Book 1 In The Reality Series

Katy

As soon as I stepped through the front door my stomach churned as the familiar scent of body order, cat pee, cigarettes and dirty diapers wafted up my nose.

Sighing, and breathing through my mouth I looked around at my surroundings.

Boxes and boxes of Christmas plates, piles of porcelain cat figurines, a large collection of hand towels featuring important historical features, ranging from Joan of Arc to Justin Bieber. Decorative whine corks, fourteen different coffee pots, baskets of patchwork quilts, a frightening assortment of realistic looking baby dolls, dusty baseball cards, Whinnie the Pooh pillows, abstract paintings, empty photo albums, piano books, harmonicas, and bin after plastic bin of teddy bears.

The familiar feeling of hopelessness settling in my chest I wove my way through the piles of crap to the couch where my Mom sat, staring dully ahead at the television which unsurprisingly was playing one of the ten eighties movies, she continually watched on a loop.

“Hi.” I greeted.

Glancing over at me momentarily she nodded in acknowledgement of my presence before turning back to the screen.

Sighing, I crossed over to her and sat on the arm of the couch since her large blob like body took up everything else.

“Where’s Sam?” I asked.

Raising a beefy hand, she pointed towards my room.

Rising to my feet I left her and made my way through more piles of junk to my bedroom. Pushing the door open easily since it was the only tidy portion of the entire one story house, I let my eyes wander to the toddler lying sprawled on my bed.

Smiling slightly I crossed over to my nephew, laughing a little to myself at the sight of the ring of chocolate circling his mouth.

With his brown curly hair, fair skin and freckles he looked exactly like my older sister Dorothy. I knew he missed her, he made that obvious, but I also knew he was starting to forget her. No longer asking for her, and referring to her as Dorty instead of as Mommy like he used to.

It had been a year since either of us had seen Dorothy after she took off with her boyfriend, leaving Mom and I to raise Sam, but since Mom rarely ever moved from the couch, it was primarily me that was left in charge of him.

Kicking off my shoes I opened my backpack to start on my homework, however before I got very far I was interrupted by Mom calling out for me from the next room.

Sighing in exasperation I rose to my feet, and once again making my way through the maze of stuff, stopped infront of the couch.

“What?” I asked.

“I’m hungry.” Mom answered.

“What do you want?” I mumbled.

“Pizza.” She replied, “Call the guy and have him deliver.”

The thought of pizza for dinner turning my stomach since we’d had it every night this week, a sigh left my lips.

“Is there a problem?” Mom demanded.

“Do we have to have pizza again?” I asked.

“Would you rather cook instead?” she snapped.

Letting my eyes wander to the kitchen, where the stove was piled high with stacks of useless junk and the cupboards were used for anything and everything other then dishes or pots or pants, I shook my head.

“That’s what I thought.” Mom grumbled, “Get the usual.”

Hanging my head I retreated back to my room, stopping infront of the bathroom door, my reflection on the back of the door distracting me.

Feeling tears prick the corners of my eyes I took in my large hips and my thighs which rubbed together, my fat knees and large calves, my doughy stomach, and flabby arms, my round chucky cheeks, and my pudgy hands.

Disgusted, I wiped the tears swiftly rolling down my face on my sleeve.

“Katy?” a small voice asked behind me.

Startled I whirled around, a smile working its way onto my lips at the sight of Sam standing behind me in a diaper, his torso covered in scribbles drawn in purple marker, which I hoped wasn’t permanent.

“Hey bud.” I greeted, with forced cheerfulness.

“Why you crying?” he asked.

Faltering I crouched down so that we were at eye level, flinching back when he reached out towards me, but allowing him to wipe away the tears falling down my cheeks, with his tiny hands.

“Why you sad?” he questioned, “You have boo boo?”

“No,” I laughed, “I don’t have a boo boo, I’m okay.”

Smiling from behind his pacifier, he waddled forward, wrapping his short arms around me.

“Love you.” He mumbled.

“I love you too bud.” I sighed.

“Katy!” Mom shouted from the next room, “Did you order that pizza?”

“I am!” I called back.

“Pizza?” Sam asked, excitedly pulling away from me.

“Yeah,” I replied.

“I like pizza.” He informed me.

“I know,” I whispered, “That’s what scares me.”

“Why you scared?” he asked.

“Because,” I sighed, “I don’t want you to end up like me, fat.”