Cruel Sanctuary

Chapter 19

!Trigger Warning! Brooklyn Stader.

My mind is shredding me apart! For the past few weeks, I have struggled to touch any food. Fortunately, Owen hasn't noticed and neither have any of my friends. The only logistics must be that I'm exceptional at hiding it because I consume the godforsaken food before bringing it up later on, or just not eat on certain occasions. My supplement tablets aid with bypassing the hunger, too.

Today is exactly two weeks until the dreaded wedding. Exactly one week until we pick up the outfit that I will dress in when I change my life forever. 

Entering the kitchen, I spot a bowl of cereal placed thoughtfully out for me and my eyes flick around the room only to find that I am completely left to my own accord. Shrugging, I emphatically chomp on the food, worried that Owen may be lurking, witheringly, to see if I eat. After I finish, everything is still eerily quiet. Owen has probably gone out to meet Luke, I convince myself. However, he's more than likely gone back to bed. We haven't spoken more than a few syllables to each other, just rubbing along enough to prevent us from murdering each other. However, for some reason, I find peace in the silence. 

So I drag myself upstairs and to my bathroom, crouching down to come face-to-face my toilet which I am now well-acquainted with. It is a shame that this has become a daily routine for me — sometimes hourly — but this is something that I feel is vital. I grew up with little to no food and, now that I have all the food I could ever indulge on and more, I am gaining so much weight! I don't want that. I don't want to be judged for something that I'm not. So, I force it up. The contents of my breakfast come flying back up to my throat as I attempt to suppress my gagging, hoping not to cause a disturbance, not that Owen would care.

Disgusting, that's how I feel. I'm a disappointment.

Caught in my own shallow mind, I didn't notice that somebody had crept into the bathroom with me whilst I was doubled over the bowl. As I flush the toilet and wash away my greed, I notice their presence. I spin around to face Owen with an implacable look of confusion plastered onto his face. I glance to my feet and wash my hands, then grab my toothbrush and brush my teeth, again. It was an excruciating two minutes of awkward silence only made worse when I turn to face him.

"Sky?" He croaks out and I look at him expectantly, "Why're you doing this to yourself?" He asks me. I let out a perfunctory scoff, "Don't pretend you care, Owen. You made your choice and it wasn't me so you have no right to lecture me anymore."

He glares at me, giving me a feeling of besiege, "Dammit, Skylar, I do care!" he bellows at me, tears springing into his eyes. Stoic, I still feel hostile, "Who started the rumour that I was gaining weight?" I whisper and he gulps, "Who started the rumour?" I scream at him and he flinches, "I-I don't know," he replies, fiddling with his brown leather bracelet.

Wishing he would be concise, my anger accelerates, "Yes, you do. Who started the god damn rumour?" I repeat myself, growing irritated. "I don't know, Skylar! We heard it from the kids in the hallways!" He answers me strongly and I attempt to push further but he storms past me and into my bathroom cabinet, his face full of suspicion, swinging open the door and taking out the little pill bottle.

Eyes flickering from the tiny orange jar and to my pallor complexion, his eyes become rheumy, "You haven't — these aren't — oh my god," he stutters, standing there with his jaw on the floor, staring at the supplement pills in front of him. Gently, I nod, as if a softer mannerism will demote the severity of my actions. Tears spill from my eyes, supplicating with him to not make a fuss but, instead, he slams the pills down onto the cabinet shelf, crashing the door shut and grabs my wrist, "Stop! Please, just-just let me deal with this alone!" I shout at him, convulsively tugging myself away but to no avail as he just pulls me down the stairs, grabbing his keys on the way out.