Apples

Chapter o6

man, it really seems that I just don't update as fast as I use to... dang it! I am truly and utterly sorry. honestly, I don't even know what to write about anymore. I'm stuck!!! help me!
picture of aunt Lucille and Piper above- you'll find out who she is soon!
-xoxo meg

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Spending Christmas with Carter and Ryder was one of the highlights of my life. But, there aren't too many of those.

I could say that it might make me change my mind on March 17th, but that would be a lie. I'm still just a depressed, anorexic, suicidal teenage girl. Maybe I can't change that.

I got a diary. Sounds like I'm an eight year old Justice-loving girl, right?

But I feel like pages of expression would help ease my pain. The terrible empty pit inside my stomach and brain.

~*~

I walked over to my full-length mirror and examined myself. My hair is too long, my shoulders looked like a man's, my pores were too easy to spot, and my stomach was too big.

I lifted up my shirt half-way, examining my belly. It rounded out too much. My stomach puffed out a little, most-likely because I'd spent my weekends and breaks as a couch potato. I looked down at my thighs. They looked too big. The slightly touched each other. Groaning in frustration, I let my shirt fall back down to my waist.

Walking over to my desk, I pulled out my leather diary and a black pen.

January 3, 2015

My body, my appearance seems to be unflattering. I can't wear tight tops or it would expose my plump belly. I am a mixed cocktail of flaws put into one being. Maybe Sierra Brown, the girl who once called me fat, was only speaking of the truth. The last thing I ate was a half of an apple, two days ago. I do drink water once in a while, it can't do me much harm... unfortunately. I have been doing exercises these past few weeks and they haven't done anything visible to decrease the fat on my body. Maybe it's hopeless as to fix up my body. Maybe, some things cannot be fixed.

Like me, for instance. If my parents ever were to find out {which they won't because they only pay attention to Ryder} I would be sent to a rehab center. Doctors there would give me pills to try to fix me, but can't they see? I can't be fixed.

xx Piper.

I sighed and rested my head into my palm. I closed my eyes and thought back to my Aunt Lucille. She was my favorite aunt and my mother's younger sister. She had lived in London for the first three years of my life but soon after came back. She, like me, hated her life. She had a crappy job, in a crappy apartment and over all; a crappy life.

She loved me though. She told me that I was her favorite person in the whole entire world, but not to tell Ryder. I would giggle and hug her whispering that she was my favorite person, too.

When I was nine years old, my Aunt Lucille stopped coming over to our house. I asked my parents why she wouldn't visit anymore, but they would just ignore me or shoo me away. That summer, Aunt Lucille killed herself. I cried and cried for days, wishing that my favorite person would come back to me. My mother didn't shed one tear. Not one, over her own sister.

Later on, I found letters to my mother from my Aunt begging her for help. I don't know what for, but my mother being my mother would refuse the help my aunt was so desperately seeking.

Would this be the same if I were to die?

I lifted my head from my hand, marks imprinted on my palm. Salty tears made its way down my rosy cheeks and I walked over to my bed. Bawling now, I curled up into my bed until I cried myself to sleep, never mentioning to anyone the story of my dead aunt.