Emma (before Red Band Society)

My Body, My Choices

All I could do was hold my pillow to my face and scream as loud as I could. I don't think I could possibly do anything to drown out the yelling from the kitchen. Mom and dad are fighting again about how I don't eat. My dad has always been supportive and let's me heal at my own pace. My mom, however, basically forces me. Can't she see how difficult it is for me to swallow any calorie at all? I hate my mom. I hate me too.

My little sister Finley doesn't really understand what is going on with me. Neither do I. When I eat, I blow up like a balloon. I am sick and tired of being called a fat, ugly weirdo. I want to control my life and I will not eat until I feel like it. Don't worry, I'm just ranting. Most of the things I think about are totally out of anger. It's not anger at the people who have given me a reason to feel so bad about myself. It's not even anger at my mom. Though, she could have monitored my diet better when I was younger.

I'm angry at myself. I can't stand living inside of me. I want to be somebody different. Or I want out. There isn't any other route I want to take. Since it's impossible to be somebody different, the only choice I really have is leaving. Finally, my mind has slowed down enough for me to fall asleep. Maybe I won't wake up.

The next morning I sit up a little too quickly and have to close my eyes again to take away the double figures I see in front of me. It's day six without anything to eat. I have to admit it's really hard to ignore my dizziness. I go to the kitchen after I get ready for school and mom's having coffee; Finley is eating a bowl of Lucky Charms. Mom gives me a nutrition bar. I open it, take a bite, and walk out after a wave and fake smile to my family. She's convinced I really eat the bar when I'm on the bus. I toss it in the trash can before hopping on the bus.

I sit with Darcy Lawrence every morning on the bus. She lives three houses down from me. She eats my lunch for me and I really appreciate her. But now it's time for Math. I sit in the back and doodle in my notebook and write words that pop into my head as I think them. Fat. Skinny. Food. Disgusting. Anger. Hate. Weight. Skate. Okay, so I started rhyming and obviously that last word was an attempt to escape my demented head.

My teacher calls on me to answer a question. I think it's the second time she's asked me because everyone is staring at me. I had to ask her to repeat the question. Which totally proves I wasn't paying attention. I answered the question and a few minutes later the bell rang. It was time for gym. I wasn't really in the mood to even go to the gym.

Trust me when I say it's a struggle for me not to skip class. I'm already doing terribly in gym. I barely participate anymore because it makes me lightheaded and I'm not prepared to explain myself to anyone. The coach calls me out when I walk in and says today I have to change out. In the locker room, there are some girls blocking a girl in corner for privacy to change and there are mostly girls stripping right out in the open. I don't have any courage to change out here so I go to the bathroom stall and change. I walk past the mirror on my way out and see grossness everywhere.

I walk out and the coach is explaining how today is badminton day. I'm terrible with coordination. But since it doesn't require much movement on my part, I'll pretend to participate. Hopefully the other girls will be competitive so I won't have to play. I lucked out and didn't have to move more than three feet the entire period.

At lunch, Darcy ate half of my tray. I put it in the dirty tray window as we were walking out so the tray cleaning man would think I ate something. Me and Darcy walked to French together. That's sadly the only class we have together. In my other classes some of my friends are Ana, Sarah, and Paul. Paul and Ana are the only people at school who know how I feel about myself. They're cool though.

When I got home I turned in the tv and watched about an hour of tv until my sister Finley came home. She gets out 45 minutes later than I do. She tells me she's had an awesome day, especially in her art class. Sometimes I miss elementary school. High school is so boring. You have loads of homework every night and almost all of it will be forgotten by high school graduation.

Even though homework is the worst, it saves me. Mom comes home and starts to make pork, spinach, and potatoes. All of those foods are bad for me. But thankfully I have homework. I ask my mom if I can eat my food in my room because I have so much homework and I really need to do well. She was so tired she didn't want to deal with me today.

So I went to my room, and stared at the plate. My heart started racing and I ran to my bathroom and got a washcloth. I wrapped the pork in it and stuffed it in my bottom drawer. I drank the rest of the water in the water bottle and pushed the potatoes and spinach inside of the bottle. Clever, right? Well. Tomorrow I have to bring it to the trash can outside personally so it doesn't get seen by anybody. I push the leftover food particles on the plate around so it doesn't looked scraped off. Then I bring it to the kitchen. I tell my mom how delicious that pork was and that she should make it more often. I think she actually bought it. Again.