Decadent

Chapter Nineteen: Cain and Abel

    “Hm...” the woman mumbles as she moves a lock of her brown hair from her round face. “Are you sexually active?”

    “No,” I answer in a stoic tone.

    “Ever had any suicidal thoughts?” she asks me.

    “Yes.”

    “What about thoughts of just harming yourself?” she asks me.

    “You mean...like cutting?” I ask her in confusion.

    The woman nods. “That could one way of harming yourself,” she tells me.

    I shake my head. “No.”

    “Have you ever went through a traumatic experience in your life...that might've triggered you to not eat?”

    “Well...” I trail off. “I was fat all throughout fifth grade and middle school. Like, two hundred pounds overweight.”

    “Why did you start putting on weight?” she asks me curiously.

    I freeze as I look over at Mom. “Can...can they leave the room? I don't feel comfortable with my family being in here.”

    The woman looks over at them. “Could you please leave the room? You need to respect his wishes.”

    “I want my dad and Dante to stay. I just want my mom and brother out,” I say with a frown as I look over at them.

    They both send me dirty looks before walking out of the room. I even start hearing my mom cussing like a sailor once they were outside in the hallway.

    “The weight gain started when...my mom began treating my brother better than me,” I admit. “He's treated like he's the best thing in the world...and she treats me like I'm the worst thing that ever happened to her. So I began eating to...I guess drown my pain? I don't know. I just know that I ate a lot...I locked myself in the bathroom countless times...just to eat. But then I noticed what eating was doing to me...and I made myself throw up for the first time at school. I'd make myself throw up just to get away from people or to stop doing certain activities at school. But...it wasn't just for that.”

    “Anything else?” she asks me.

    I watched my best friend rape the girl I had a crush on in eighth grade. I want to say it...but what's the point? The image is still in my mind...worst of all, I was high while it was happening. I didn't do anything when I watched Kent slap Tori...then he pushed her on the leather couch...all he had to do was raise her dress and pull down her panties. He did it, too. I remember hearing her screaming while I hummed songs from old eighties bands. How horrible can one person get? I remember Kent spreading her legs so far apart that she literally couldn't walk the next day.

    I could've stopped it. Tori wouldn't be how she is now...Kent would probably be getting some help or something. I just feel like the whole thing was my fault...

    But I didn't do anything. Instead, I hummed Pink Floyd songs and countless others. The sick thing is that I was actually kinda fascinated by it. I watched...and watched...without emotion. It makes me wonder if I was sober that night...would I have helped Tori...

    Or would have I just watched the whole thing like I originally did?

    After a long moment of questions, the woman I now know that her name is Athena, it finally ends.

    “Okay, so you want to stay at the hospital for the next couple of days...or do you want to go home?” Athena asks me again.

    I look over at Dad. “What do you want me to do, Dad?” I ask him. I have no idea what to do. I don't like having decisions being up to me. It's a lot of pressure. Even for this simple question.