Bambi

Chapter 1- I am the problem, always.

A/N: Listen to the song because it may help you understand River more. Please don't talk rudely about the characters either. Criticism is needed, but to an extent. Also, there WILL be triggering things in this story. I'm not going to put a warning at the beginning and end because it's all throughout the story. If that bothers you, then this isn't the book for you. In the description I have stated that there are going to be triggering things in here too. It may be hard to read about. If you need someone to talk to about anything and I mean anything, message me! I may not answer straight away, but I will try and text back as soon as I can. Things like these can be hard to talk about, yet you can get through it! I believe in you.

  Now, I  won't bore you guys anymore. Enjoy the story and feel free to comment on how you think the first chapter is because I would love to know. Hearing things about the book would make me really happy, so don't be a silent reader. Well, I get it if you are, but still enjoy.

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87lbs.

87lbs.

No, no, no. I can't believe I've gained weight. How? I quickly took my feet off of the glass surface and watched as the numbers disappeared and then came back as zero on the scale that had given me such terrible news, but it wasn't like this was the first time it had. My hands began to feel clammy and my stomach was churning at the thought of my mother's reaction to my current weight. I hadn't had a problem maintaining it in a while, but that didn't mean she was going to go easy on me. What was she going to say? Oh, who am I kidding, she is going to flip out! I could already see her lips pressing together tightly as I informed her about the sudden pounds I had gained, hear her voice echoing off the walls because of its intensity. She doesn't check how much I weigh frequently, but if she notices that I have gained weight, she will not be pleased.

Today was Friday and I always took my weight at the end of the week, like clockwork. My mother seems to have control over every aspect of my life, but there's nothing I can do about it. Putting up a fight with her would only make things bad for me in the end. In the morning I would have no choice, but to see her face morph into the look I knew all too well-- disappointment. I hope she does not question me on my weight, but when I'm worried about something and she sees me, it's like 'worrywart' is in sharpie on my forehead. 

I am the problem, always. If I was over 85 pounds, there was a problem. The constant battle that went on in my head is not going to stop, especially if I become even more worried then I already am about my appearance. Blaming my parents for the way I am now would be insensitive in my opinion, but they pushed me to this point. The constant feeling of never being good enough was once again making my chest hurt and I involuntarily reached up and rested a hand over where my heart is, feeling the cool, thin fabric of the black T-shirt I had on. Despite the dropping temperature outside, my fan was still on in my room and I had still slept in plain t-shirts and my underwear, the warmth that radiated off of the fluffy comforter that was folded neatly on my bed being more than enough to keep me warm through the night.

I can say goodbye to eating ice cream this week. I will be lucky to even get salad with dressing, not that I usually got it anyway. My meals were always picked out by my mother since she didn't want me gaining any weight. My throat was beginning to feel dry and I knew that I was going to have to throw up my food that I had eaten a little over two hours ago for dinner. My eyes darted over to the light blue carpet that was placed in front of the toilet, so when I got out of the shower, I  would have something to step on and wouldn't have to get my bathroom floor all wet. My knees were use to the feeling of being on it as I made myself loose any unwanted weight, regardless of the stinging pain in my throat and the unwanted tears leaving stains on my tanned skin.

When I turned my head to look at myself in my mirror, I could see the tears beginning to form in my eyes, a few already rolling down my cheeks. I let myself cry for a moment, before wiping my tears away and taking a deep breath. It had been a while since I had even cried, usually nothing went wrong in my life that my mother or I couldn't control. It was always being carefully looked over and criticized, until it seemed somewhat mechanical.  The schedule my mother had somehow imprinted into my mind, was the one I always followed. I felt like I always had to look up to her when I wanted to make a choice, but I shall never stand up to her. Maybe I could have before, but her influential words made my heart pick up and sweat begin to form on my skin from one simple sentence. All the confidence that I use to have has diminished, along with most of my self-confidence. 

The only time I was ever able to be free was when she went to work with my father. My father, one simple man who had made such a huge impact on our family. My father is one of the states judges, so paparazzi isn't new to me, but I do hate it. Constantly having people look at you, take pictures of you, or even come up to you to  just ask about my fathers decisions was exhausting. The only place that I can go to is a secluded place near the private school that I had planned on going to until my father's career developed more, causing me to be doing school online. Ironically, very few people come by and if they do, they never stay for long. My father is always working, which means my mother should be near his side since she is a clerk. I can't wait for tomorrow because I haven't gotten to go anywhere all week because of my mother taking the week off for 'sickness'. That's code for getting on my nerves 24/7.

I grabbed my phone off the sink, seeing the galaxy case twinkle a bit when I moved it out of its original position. Once I turned off my bathroom light, I crawled under the covers and enjoyed the peace and quiet that can be taken away in a flash and I would know because of past situations. I fell into a dreamless sleep that would only last for about 8 hours or less due to my mother's want for getting up early. I have absolutely no idea why I have to get up at 7:45 A.M. every single day. Yeah, weekends too.

Time flew by and before I knew it, it was time to get up and get through another day that would be planned out, all the way down to the socks that I was going to wear.

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Question of the chapter: How is your relationship with your guardian?

My dad is pretty much a stranger to me, but I see and talk to him occasionally. Do you know what bipolar means? It's the definition of me and my mothers relationship, lol.

Song Above: Pretty Hurts by Beyonce
Recommended book: The Bad Boy and The Tomboy by nikki20038

Word Count: 1,336