The Lies She Lived

Chapter 7 - Eliza (Liz)

{TW: Chapter contains subject matter of Eating Disorders}

I finally feel my body come to a calming halt, after a couple of minutes of me shaking and crying compulsively. I felt as if I used up all the tears in my body, there was no more left to shed. I grab a couple of more tissues that detective Chan slid towards me during my breakdown. She notices that I'm regaining my composure so she starts to speak again.

"Are you okay to proceed with the questioning? I could get you something if you need?"

"No thank you" I say, appreciative of her kind offer.
"and I'm fine to continue." I lean over in my seat and throw away the handful of used tissues in the trash bin that's close by. After I sit back into my chair, I'm finally facing Chan again. She's giving me a sympathetic look. More so consoling rather than pitiful, which I appreciate.

"You stated that you personally feel like after that summer was when she first started to change for the worse, correct?"

"Yes, I did."

"Was it a change in her behavior, personality, mood, or? Can you specify that for me?"

"All of the above. There was a change in her whole being as if she was slowly transforming into this completely new person."

"Can you tell me of a prime instance where you first noticed this 'change' within Isabella?"

"Yes, there's one that I, unfortunately, remember vividly."

Sophomore year, we were already a couple of months into the first semester. At that point any usual person would've thought that Izzy was completely the same as before, even her parents hadn't noticed too much of a change. But I noticed that there was a piece of Izzy missing, and it left this empty dark cold spot in its place. There were little things that had changed, little things that she would say and do. Things she'd not say nor do anymore. Her smile felt a little more forced, rather than her old bright natural one that could ignite any room she entered. Her joy felt a little less authentic as if she was trying to make up for the cheerful and enthusiastic part of herself that was then lost. Her kind heart dimmed down as if a good percentage of her love and care had vanished. She could be so vacant at times, one second being there in the moment and engaged, then the next she just wasn't. Sadly enough Izzy did a great job of pretending to be the old version of herself. So much so that she had people convinced that she was the same girl she was prior. That the subtle changes were just a result of her getting older. Even I had a couple of moments where I thought that the old Izzy had finally returned. That she was just in a prolonged funk. But then the next incident had happened, and I knew for sure that Izzy wasn't the same Izzy I knew of before.

Izzy and I were spending more time together, most of which I believe was probably because Izzy used her time with other people as a form of distraction from herself. Being around people would be much better than being alone to face the feelings she must have been struggling to deal with. Being alone really forces you to acknowledge how hallow and empty you feel inside, I would know. But this time we had a reason to be spending extra time together, besides being best friends and cousins. We were planning for our quinceañera. Our family had decided that we should celebrate our quince "together". Which basically meant that we were going to share our quiceañeras, two within one. I wasn't surprised since our families would love to make us share almost everything when we were younger before Izzy and her parents moved away. My mother and tía were the types of sisters that would make their daughters dress in matching color-coordinated outfits. But I thought that for something as special as our quinceñeras they would give us our own individual celebration, but that wasn't the case. And what made it more ridiculous is how my birthday was in fall and Izzy's was in the winter. So they decided that the quince would happen halfway in between our birthdays. Which meant that I was already fifteen for a couple of weeks before we even had the quinceñera. Luckily though, I didn't mind getting the short end of the stick too much. It wasn't a big deal for me at the time, I guess I never got into the hype for a celebration that originated from offering your now "woman" fifteen-year-old daughter to adult men wanting to marry her. Izzy, however, was more than excited about it. She had wanted to plan out the perfect quince and be the "Mexican princess" that she always knew she was. Imani, who would be there hanging with us too, loved getting involved to help out.