Vanished

Everybody has a story. Though our story was different, a love story. People just think that love is just a sappy clingy warm feeling that never changes. Those people are wrong. Love is an upside down, inside out roller coaster that's always changing. Treatment was over and as usual, my dad was waiting by the curb right outside. "When are you ever going to give me space?" I asked as I ducked in from the rain. "As soon as you turn 18 Evey." he said. I've been going to treatment since I was fourteen, when I was diagnosed (or when my dad assumed) with anorexia. Since then I've been through 5 hospitals, 3 countries, 4 therapists, and 2 treatment centers. I think its kind of pathetic actually, I didn't choose this life. When i was thirteen, i remember constantly looking in the mirror horrified at what was looking back at me. Never did it really occur and still does not occur to me that this is actually making me sick, I couldn't care less though. I started to be hospitalized regularly, the hospital discovered I am severely dehydrated and my electrolytes are off balance, due to purging. "Want to go to McDonald's?" dad asked. "Um no dad im still full from the lunch we had.." I lied. "Your never hungry" muttered dad under his breath. It was actually my decision to go back to treatment, since I was being hospitalized a couple times a week. Its getting really stressful on my dad, since my mother died 15 years ago due to lung cancer. Her name was Grace, and that's where I get my middle name. I sometimes stare at the picture I have of her and dream of what she was like and what she would think of me. She is my thinspiration, the picture of her looks as if she was 95 pounds. My dad talks about her a lot, saying that I am an exact replica of her, I'm not at all sad that she died, since I don't really remember her. As we pull into our driveway, a family walks towards us from our doorstep. "Just in time!" my dad said as him and the man shook hands.