Esmee : To kill the pain

To kill the pain

It was not my line of work that made me react even though it may have been my line of work that had made her stick out like a sore thumb to me. I often wondered how people could walk past someone like her and ignore what was going on completely. How anyone with a heart or soul or children could notice a child so distressed with injuries and the blatant intention of trying to end her own life and walk on without saying a word to her. The truth is though if any of them had known what was going on inside of her, could comprehend how desperate she was or what she was about to do most of them would have stopped and tried to lend a hand, however the neon sign that I saw blinking over her head was only visible to me. The blood stain on her sleeve could have been ink, the bandage there because she had fallen over and hurt it somehow and the tablets was because she had a headache or period pains or even because her injured wrist hurt. The spirit was almost completely concealed inside a tote shopping bag. I had only seen it because I had been looking for it. In life those reasons that were considered rational and possible were the ones that always made them self’s known. If I had gone up to any other person in the shop and said, “she has cut both her wrist on purpose and she has bought spirits to help wash down the tablets she is about to buy all at the same time,” they would have thought I was the insane one. The difference was I knew that teenagers contemplated suicide and cut their own wrists because every day I went to a place where it was normalized to something silly.  Even I had begun to judge someone by the depths of their cuts, foolishly thinking that someone who used a scalpel blade and cut down to the bone was somehow in more trouble than the person who scratched the skin with a compass. The girl with the compass scratches would disagree or worse try to prove herself that she could also be “good enough”   

There was of course another reason why I knew she was in trouble and it had nothing to do with the nurse’s degree or the NHS badge I carried around in my handbag. It didn’t even have anything to do with the five years on the job experience. The main reason I saw throw her while others rationalised her was because I had once stood in front of the over the counter painkillers and tried to work out the right amount that would destroy me completely.

Without taking my eyes off of the struggling girls face for more than a second I whipped around to the wound care isle and grabbed the stuff that was needed to properly look after cuts and sores including paper stitches and swiped them through a self-service checkout before throwing them into my oversized handbag and heading over to the same isle the girl was in pretending to look at the pain killers myself. I actually had no idea what I was going to say or even if I could help at all. I wanted to intervene of course, once again not because of the nurse thing but because of who I really was. I had prayed forever when I was looking over the tablets that someone would read my mind, that they would maybe come and save me. I would have walked away if someone had cared enough to ask me to.       

“Are you all right? You look a little lost,” I asked the girl as she swore under her breath at the tablets that teased her from the display. “I’m a nurse,” I confirmed smiling as she deviated her wide eyes from the prize she was seeking and looked me up and down like I may have actually materialized out of a packet of the pain killers. I dug around in my bag and pulled out the blue NHS badge that contained my name, a very dodgy picture of me as twenty four year old and other bits of information that was needed and handed it to the girl who scrutinised the writing. “You can call the number if you want,” I suggested “Check me out.”

“It’s OK, I believe you.”

“I’m Esmee,” I smiled before glancing over the shelf of pain killers again then back to the girl. “I take it your in pain if you’re looking at these things.”       

“You could say that. I’m Kathy,” The girl said quietly before handing the badge back over to me causing the sleeve to rise up on the arm with no bandage revealing two fairly nasty gashes that oozed blood sending a line trickling down her hand which she whipped in her jeans before yanking her sleeves back down and taking a step back from me her eyes wide and scared.

I could see the cogs turning inside of her head and almost hear the rate in which her heart thumped as she searched her empty mind for an excuse to use, for something to say that could possibly explain such perfect parallel cuts on her arms. She had made her excuses before for the scars but she had had them planned all along. I had caught her off guard while broken and bleeding I was trained too and not as easily as sedated by excuses like I got scratched by the cat or fell into a bush but it was all that she had.

“It’s nothing, I mean it’s the cat, she is a vicious little thing and I had to give her some medicine, it was asking for trouble, hence the pain killers, it’s kind of sore,” Kathy mumbled looking at everything else apart from me. Her legs told her to run of course but her mind wouldn’t let her. Part of her wanted me to ask the awkward questions, for me to guess correctly so she didn’t have to make up the lies but the need for the secrecy about her stage coping skill forced the lies out somewhat against her will. She couldn’t give it up even if she wanted to and addiction made humans sly deceiving and destructive  I had seen people so caught up in there need that they still lied as they were bleeding to death, convinced that one more cut could save their souls.

“That’s one nasty cat to cause cuts like that. Did he tie razor blades to his paws or something?” I laughed gently but winced as I saw the words hit her somewhere just under her ribs making her unintentionally grab at the sore bit that my words had left with one of her arms. I hadn’t meant to hurt her but making light of a situation worked with some people, it lowered a rock solid defence and made me approachable. They would tell their secret in a joke then I could intervene. Other times it made people think I was making fun of them and then they pulled faces like she just had. Maybe next time I should have just cut the crap and punched her in the face. Great choice Esmee.

“She is a very cleaver cat,” Kathy tried to smile as she regained her composure from the attack I had just pulled on her.  She knew she had to laugh at my joke because most people would have found it funny and done exactly that. Even though it hurt her more somewhere inside she would pull herself apart and stab at open wounds to keep her secret under lock and key.

“I mean tying razor blades to her paws seems like something Luna would do. Well I should probably grab some pain killers and head off. You were going to tell me the good ones.”

“Ibuprofen is probably best for the cuts as they’re an anti-inflammatory as well which will help with any swelling. Obveously make sure you read the label carefully and don’t take too many. They are very unlikely to kill you in overdose but they will make you feel pretty crappy not to mention the pretty much continual vomiting. They are not generally suitable for Asthmatics either.”

“I’m Asthmatic!” Kathy snapped more animated then she had been the entire conversation as she throw the packets back on the display and gabbed the Paracetamol instead, the smile she could not contain spread across her face, I had given her the weapon of her destruction.

“Thanks Esmee. I am sure this will really kill the pain,” Kathy smiled as she retreated with her prize.

Esmee : This baby

This baby

I did not skip breakfast that morning and neither had I wanted to. I didn’t even think about the calorie content that much as I chewed my way through the meal. It was a welcome break from what it had been over the last few days of meal time torture. It would come back of course. It always came back after a while. No matter how much you tried to block them out from your head or told yourself that you were crazy for having the bad thoughts. The ones that told you, you were fat when you were thin or that eating meant losing some stupid control over yourself that you never really had in the first place. You could never really honestly and truly make them go away completely. Even steam could get through waterproof seals and that’s what the thoughts were. Evasive and clever, just shadows mist and steam that came to drive you down, however any time off from them, the little victories over them were good things to be noted down.

Later that morning I headed into town. Emmet had offered to go in with me but I wanted to be alone somehow. I had had a good breakfast but before that with the trigger of my jeans not fitting I had fallen to a place where I had not been to for a while, a place where I did not want to go again. It was the place where the steam and shadows that sometimes got through the gaps solidified and turned into ghosts and demons to take you away. It wasn’t really some necessary brooding that I wanted to take part in. It was just thinking and besides I wanted to shop, and Emmet wasn’t a fan of the whole shopping thing. He thought all his new shits and jeans magically appeared in his wardrobe by the cloths fairy.

The town centre was quiet to my delight and my first stop was mothercare for some much needed new maternity clothes.  I had eventually braved going into our storage type room to sieve though some of the spare cloths that we kept up there in vac bags. We probably had more cloths then most cloths shops kept back for the foster children. In fairness most came with a bag packed but the emergency’s sometimes didn’t, arriving beaten and broken on our door step in cloths that were either vastly inappropriate, including one thirteen year old that had turned up in a leather skirt  fish net tights and tank top that advertised that she was in fact the queen bitch. She had come straight from the streets after the police had picked her up prostituting herself, her father was her pimp and her mother didn’t care. Other times the cloths were just worn, dirty or the wrong size completely. After a few times of being caught out we had managed to get an appropriate set of cloths in nearly every size and that included an adult size 14 that thankfully still fitted me well for the time being so decided to wear them into town

After handing just over four hundred pounds to the cashier for some much needed new maternity gear that included Jeans tops and a pair of stretchy dungarees that would come in handy when I was a lot bigger and a cheeky packet of first size sleepers and vest that I fell in love with I started to wonder around the town centre aimlessly, dragging the bag of cloths around with me and wishing with every step that I took I had not bought the baby cloths. When in the heat of mothercares surrounded by the world that was made for babies it was very easy to believe that it was all rosy, that everything would be clear and that everything would be OK. It did not threaten miscarriage or still birth in moterhcare and  It certainly did not mattered that the hour before - though he regretted it - my husband had asked me to abort the baby I was now dressing in “mummy and daddy loves me” inscribed vests.  The truth is I would not abort the child and Emmet would not ask me to do so again but in the real world lost somewhere amongst the grey pavements and even greyer tall buildings that towered over everything and casted shadows inside my head once again babies could get harmed and could die while inside their mothers even after the golden 12 week mark. There was always a way for the pieces of something to fall through the cracks even if you had all the super glue and sticky tape in the world to keep them together.

Without knowing how I really got there or weather I had actually bumped into anyone or anything from under my obsessive thinking on the way I found myself in boots the pharmacy and smiling at a toddler about the age of Mia who was talking to a doll who to the toddlers utter surprise was talking back at her. The toddler stamped her  miss behaving feet and squeaked with glee which amused her once again heavily pregnant mother and farther no end not to mention me.

Joy was out there and so was happiness, sometimes it swelled inside you and made it almost as hard to breath as pain did and I was lucky enough to at times have felt it to have lived and breathed right inside the glorious magical feelings that came from joy. However with all happiness there was pain and so often it slid silently beside happiness like it had done today for as I pulled my eyes away from the toddler and scanned the rest of the shop I saw another child. This one was admittedly older, probably a good thirteen to fourteen years on the toddler who stamped her feet in uncontainable glee but to my 30 year old self still practically a baby, however she had not found a toy to play with. She was not looking at the make up or body sprays or even hovering over the hair dyes to indulge in that teenage right of passage that would inevitably end in disaster and a trip to the hair dresser. This baby stood in front of the display of bye one get one free painkillers with despite wide eyes and shaking hands. This baby had a poorly applied blood soiled bandage peeking out the ends of her long sleeves and a blood stain appearing on the sleeve of the opposite arm This baby did not have a doll in her hands that she was not willing to give up for no one; A bottle of the cheapest spirit money could buy and a bag from another pharmacy was her prize to keep. This baby though still had clearly given in.

Esmee : I will alwyas find you

I will always find you.

Esmee

“This is so fucked up,” I moaned sitting down on top of the toilet seat and putting my head into my hands. “I am so fucked up; I can’t even look after my own baby.”

“Now you’re putting words into my mouth. I never said you were fucked up or a bad mother. You have more love and more maternal instinct in your little finger then some people will experience in their whole life but I have just found you promising size six to a reflection that was not my wife’s, to the reflection that will come for you.”  

 “I don’t want to get sick Emmet but if you’re asking me for a promise that I won’t you know you are asking too much. I have bad bits and I always will weather I am pregnant or not,” I said defeated by everything the morning had so far thrown at me. My head hurt with the stuff I was trying to get into it, with the fear for what had happened. I had stood and without a fight declared to myself that after the pregnancy I would crash diet until I was back to a dangerous weight and for the briefest of moments the thought of it had made me high not scared. How had it come to me walking so close next to the edge of a crumbling cliff line again? I had known I was struggling. I had fort for every bite of food at times but through all of it I had never lost grip of the fact that eating was in fact, though difficult, a good thing. I had longed for a size six but always understood that the size I was actually better. For the time I had cooed into that mirror and declared war on my body again guaranteeing a miniscule weight to a delusional mind I had actually believed that it was a good thing. I believed that the road to redemption, the road to perfect and pure lied in the labels of my clothing and the numbers on a scale and not inside of me or in the face of my children.

“I’m already sick again aren’t I?” I moaned.

“I think we’re heading for trouble,” Emmet agreed nodding his head slowly before going to his knees in front of the toilet and taking my hand into his, his fingers running over the tendons in my hands. “I got scared Esmee. I should have never even considered asking you to abort our baby. It was wrong of me but I’m not superman and the thought that you being pregnant was making this worse for you was too much and I spoke before I thought properly. I saw you change into someone else right before my eyes and it was terrifying, like you might have never come back to me. I can’t live without you Esmee. It’s self-preservation that makes me want to keep you safe more anything else.

My body hurt at his words as the punched me in the heart and rippled out around the other organs and limbs.  It was the kind of hurt that made me what to hug him close to me yet push his so far away all at the same time. I never really wanted to have him far away from me. I had tried to leave him I had set him free and it nearly resulted in him lying under a train but what happened if I didn’t even know if I was going? If I faded before I could even guess that something was going wrong. What If I became Amy overnight when I wasn’t looking?

“I will always find my way back to you somehow,” I tried to reassure Emmet as well as myself as I reached up at wrapped my fingers around his hair pulling him in closer to me so our lips could meet somewhere in the middle grating me the physical reassurance that I could never feel more then I did when he was wrapped somewhere inside my arms.

 “I will never stop looking either,” Emmet guaranteed after I allowed him to part from my lips, “Ever.”

(Mi) Ava was wrong

Ava was wrong.

Edward reacted as I imagine he would and got to his knees in seconds trying to negotiate his rather long legs and the tables as he tried to get closer to my hidden ball. I had hoped, stupid as it was, he might have not noticed my sudden collapse and roll from the chair or at least ignored it completely and went about acting normal, there was nothing he could do anyway, there was no one in the grounds of Apple gate house that could make it better right then. The only two people who had a tiny chance were currently both off shift at the same time ( a rare occurrence) and  were residing somewhere in Newway close, either sleeping in or pulling ancient boxes of Christmas decorations down from there attic to cover the walls with primary colours. Emmet had promised me that Esmee went over the top for Christmas and decorated every square inch of the house. She claimed it was for Mia and Emmet pointed out that Mia had only seen two Christmas and she had been turning their house into a grotto ever since they had lived together. I had nothing to do with Christmas, it would come and it would go for all I cared and it never made me happy or jolly if anything it hurt more. The whole world was pretending to smile on December the 25^th. I had never found the way to make myself believe in it even though I wanted to. It would have been nice to believe that one day could grant peace on earth and that no one would hurt one another but I didn’t.  I could also remember the effort my mother put into it, and Christmas was the one thing she did try for. We covered tress in old balls and tinsel and watched the Christmas films on the telly while opening one door each day to an advent calendar and they were good memory’s that I would hold on to, but I also just as easily remembered Christmases for waking up on the bathroom floor in a puddle of blood streaked vomit and bleeding wrists and a mother passed out on the sofa after she found the bottle of Vodka again.

“Edward what are you doing trying to crawl under the table?” Jean asked as I saw her crocs enter into the dining room followed by a holy pair of messed up white trainers, complete with penned on skulls and lightning bolts just before Edward managed to shimmy his body in next to mine fully bumping his head in the process. My heart thudded in my chest in pounds and flutters not able to keep a rhythm and my stomach swirled the brown glue around in a protest, Connor was once again in the same room as me close enough so I could reach out and touch one of his feet which I had an odd urge to do yet he was also far away.  Just form his voice I could tell he was coming back to the unit as someone different from the person that left.

I counted… In Twelve’s.

 “I am having some time out with Mi,” Edward said answering Jeans question like having time out under tables was the most normal thing in the world. Jean on the other hand was either genius enough or stupid enough to pick out the obvious flaw to his answer.

“Ummm, and why is Mi under the table?”

“Why not be under the table?” Edward responded casually with just the slightest hint of sarcasm in his tone. I doubt he really wanted to be under the table and in all honesty I didn’t really have any desire to be there either but something unknown to me had sent me there. Maybe it had promised me some sort of invisibility. Maybe if I could stay still enough I could shrink into it and disappear. For the last few months I had been becoming more used to the physical space that I took up in the world, I still hated myself, loathed what I was and what I had the potential of becoming  but excepted that I was in fact there, now I was back to square one. I was a large mass in a place I didn’t belong and I simply wanted to disappear without worry or trace.

“Mi’s still here?” Connors voice was different for a few seconds, back to its normal self as he said my name and my insides burned angrily in a feeling that I could never place my finger on. It was the Connor feeling, the one that took me when he was near; the fire on my muscles and orangs and the electricity on my skin that drew me towards his. I held my breath scared that he would bend down and look at me yet secretly hoping he would do the same thing.

“Connor if you get under that table you realise there is no way I am coming in there after you.” I heard Jean warn. Her words spurred me into action again my body taking off before my mind had really told it to do so and before I knew it I was out from under the table and in the middle of the open room right in the line of Connors gaze, his eyes examining all the contours of my body making it feel like it was blistering from the inside out. I could have screamed if I hadn’t felt so sick. I would have been sick if I didn’t want to scream so much. I grabbed one of the chairs with a sticky hand to try and steady my jelly like legs and tried to keep my eyes away from his face and onto his feet even though an invisible force tried to pull them upwards.

“You didn’t expect to see you,” Connor said his voice changing again into his new manner, making me wish I had stayed under the table. “I though you would have killed yourself by now. You were so hell bent on it.” It was such an anti-Connor thing to say said in such an anti-Conner tone that I felt the blow of hit me somewhere just under my ribs. It was cold and spiteful something Crystal would have said under her breath as she passed you in the Corridor. It was not out of concern or petty that he so casually mentioned my suicide. It was like he was disappointed that I stood in front of him now no longer as broken as he could remember.

Without wanting to I shot him a look with my burning eyes and got caught off guard by what stared back at me. His eyes were shallow and burnt out, cold and out of place, hardened from the liquid universe to a village of one man out to destroy it just because he could. The blow this time almost made me sick.

“Who are you?” I asked the new Connor, my eyes floating down over his body to try and find a trace of the boy that had kissed me so gently.

“What?” Connor snapped and I flinched away as he throw his hands into the air while taking a step forward making Edward jump close in to my side in seconds, a protective arm in front of my chest and tummy. I thought I had been insane to jump to the conclusion that Connor was going to actually try and hit me, that nobody could change from what he had been to what he was now but apparently I wasn’t the only one by Edwards’s reaction. My skin froze over as fast as it had blistered.

“I don’t care what Ava says,” I moaned out to Edward and Jean as I tried to regain my balance without the aid of the chair, “That is not Connor.”

I bolted from the room.

(Mi) My love lies lost, so the sent me his ghost

My love lies lost, so they sent me his ghost

Mi

My swallowing reflex suddenly went away and I spluttered making most of the water I had been sipping on exit out of my nose to cover the clean top that I had put on that morning. No one was remotely interested that Connor was coming back really.  He would be another face at the dinner table and another body in a room in a place that never ever stood still, not even to catch its breath or to remember the fallen. I wouldn’t of cared either but I remembered his smell and the way he felt; his ancient eyes.

“Ok guys, let’s call time,” Ava shouted clapping her hands twice to snap all the faces that had gathered to stare at the freak girl again away before I had time to turn a delicious shad of beetroot.  “It’s Friday so feel free to go where you want but I would like to see as many as you back here for 10 so we can start to put of some Christmas decorations Only 12 days until the big guy comes.”

All the chairs around the table scraped out instantaneously with an all-round groaning. Ava must have been in her late twenty’s or early thirty’s but the truth is she had such a childish presence about her it wouldn’t have surprised me if she still believed in Santa and her mother left a stocking outside her door. I could not judge her though. In fact I found myself smiling at her as she rolled her eyes at the groaning and slipped from the table to go about sorting things out.

“Are you all right?” Edward asked entering back into the room after he and the entire table had taken their plates to the dish washer except for me, even though my pate had vanished as well as the rest of them leaving the milk splashed Formica table clear. “I thought you were right behind me. Well you know the drill half an hour with me and you free to go.”

“Puke patrol,” I muttered under my breath just loud enough so Edward could hear it which made him smile. At least the times of after meal observation were reducing now. When I had been admitted it had been an hour to three at nurse’s discretion now it was half an hour to an hour at nurse’s discretion.   They trusted me more now, believed that I did not feel anorexia’s power as much, believed that I had changed completely and maybe they were right, things felt different normally even if right then nothing felt at all; a numb buzzing sucking anything sensory out of the air around me. I would have made myself sick right then if I could remember how or why I would want to or how it made me hurt inside. I would have liked the pain right then.

“You need some help Mi? That was a toughie this morning but you did well. Do you want a little walk around the unit grounds; see if we can maybe banish some of the bad feelings?”

Bad feelings, bad feelings would have at least made some sense. I could have worked with anger or sadness even if it meant freaking out completely. At least there was reaction to them. For so long in my life I had tried to induce numbness but never quite managed to completely obliterate the feelings that made me human, even when I thought I had managed it there must have always been something left because I was still aware of the fact that I was real. Now I wasn’t even sure whether I had a pulse or weather I would bleed if I was cut.

“All right honey you’re obviously working through some big stuff right now and me pestering you won’t help so I’m going to leave you to it. I’m still going to be here though so just holler if you want anything.”

“I want to get out of here,” I whispered, not sure if I was responding to Edward or trying to encourage my body to flee from the situation. Maybe if I wasn’t stuck somewhere inside the same four walls that crushed and contained me I could work out weather I was actually still alive or not.

“Ok how about a walk around the grounds?” Edward asked again rising to his feet just as a slightly raised disgruntled voice arrived into the hallway  outside the door making Edward stop what he was doing to listen along with me. My ears pricked up at the familiar voice that shot my heart rate up from ice cold and dead to pounding at a hundred beats per minute out of my chest. Fires somehow setting ice alight inside my head

“Jean I know the rules and you can drop the shit. I wasted a whole year of my life in this shit hole and guessed what I screwed up again so I have come back for some more punishment. I know the alarms, the fire exits and the bloody meal time rotas! They haunt me when I sleep I know them so well, just give me a brake be quite and do whatever you have to do when conduction stupid amber observations that I still protest that I don’t need.” Connors voice growled different from the velvet tones I still remembered sliding over my body. Estranged form the somewhat quiet boy that left the unit with his mother while staff nurse’s supported my crumbling body. He was angry now, harsh and sarcastic like the world had wronged him and he was fed up, His words so sharp the tore strips into my heart and made my eyes water.

“Connor, I am well aware that you are a re-admission and you feel that you do not need to be back here  in our care  but Doctor Jordan feels a little differently and he is in charge so what he says must go for now. Re-admission or not I have to go over the rules and health and safety things to make sure you are safe and aware of them. I understand this is hard…”

“You all say that but actually none of you have any idea at all! My friends are getting girlfriends and getting laid and having party’s and getting so drunk they don’t remember their own names and I’m in here being told when to eat drink, shower and talk and it’s just bullshit!

“Connor…”

“Don’t Connor Me you stupid…”

Feeling flooded back in and all at once I realised why numbness was a blessing because suddenly everything hurt so much I had no choice but to roll off of my chair and crawl to the corner under the table where I could screw myself up in to a ball and rock. The Connor I had loved, who pressed his number into the palms of my hand and stroked my hair was lost forever and they had sent back his ghost to haunt me.

(Esmee) Amy's Ransom

Amy’s ransom

I could say nothing as invisible fists punched at my stomach and phantom hands tried to reach inside and claw my baby out of me by force. I had been hoping and praying for her safety, secretly brooding over names and wondering if we would have to convert the fostering room or we could get away with making over the office. I had imagined what she would look like and how warm and soft she would feel as she was placed into my arms. How I would squeeze Emmets hand and he would rub the base of my back even if it did bugger all for the pain. The first time she revolved around inside of me or kicked something off of my stomach. All the times I would have to stand up and fight for her, how without question I would lay down my life for her.

“Esmee…”

“Don’t touch me,” I stuttered trying to catch some of the breath that was leaving my body at the same time as curling my hands around my tummy and taking a step back from the now monstrous hands that tried to grab for me until my feet lost balance and I landed heavily on the toilet seat knocking my hip on the system. Suddenly I was also nauseous as well. This could not have been happening. He could not be suggesting something so horrendous after everything we had done together, after the tears and heart break of every miscarriage I had ever had. Not after mourning so many lost children could he seriously be suggesting I murder one?

“Esmee, honey, don’t be…”

“Don’t you dare tell me what to be like!  Don’t you dare tell me what to believe or what to think or what to say! Don’t you dare even look at me right now you ugly excuse for a human!” I snarled curling my legs up around my tummy to give my precious bundle all the protection I could manage. Any one getting to her would have to get through me first, would have to break every bone in my body to lay a finger on her and even then I would have stood up for her.

“Don’t I get to say anything, don’t I get too…”

“No! You get nothing anymore! No words or opinions or rights or…”

“Esmee the foetus…”

“Baby, dear god what the hell is all this shit with the foetus! She’s just a tiny little baby! She didn’t bloody well asked to be put there” She didn’t ask for any of this” I fumed though the tears that betrayed me and ran down over my face making my burning cheeks sore and my eyes unfocused. Out of everyone in the world Emmet was meant to be the only one not saying this, not asking such insanity’s of me. Not handing my anorexia such a precious reward. “So we’re just going to give this one to old Amy then?  We are going to hand over a baby to her! We’re going to give her away so I can get my ass into a 12 again?”

“We are going to save you!” Emmet screamed louder than me and for the first time I could see him properly through my own tears and I could see his too, stronger than even mine in some ways. His face redder and his expression more twisted into an unnatural agony the I could ever recall seeing before. I hated him so much… I loved him, and a heartless murder did not feel the kind of feelings that tortured his face now, did not sob the way he actually was, did not scream in the back of his throat as he just had.

“I want you both!” I want you both so fucking much that it hurts me all over! It is like I am being boiled slowly in a vat of boiling oil and what is bloody worse is I wouldn’t care if I could save you both but she has named her price to save you, to spare you from her grip again and she wants the baby she wants the only bloody thing that I don’t want to give her!”

(Esmee) for the sake of a foetus

For the sake of a foetus

Esmee

 

The instinct was to lie or to run and hide like I was a little girl and I had just been caught playing with the china dolls in my mums cabinet. It was similar in some ways. Size six jeans was a forbidden place but there was just something so alluring about that particular size it seemed so right and it was the same with dolls. I always had plenty of my own toys to play with which included many dolls but there was something so alluring and irresistible about the way the china of their faces looked and how it felt under my fingertips I could not stop myself reaching out to touch them. The one thing that was different of course was the dolls were not going to kill me Size six would eventually destroy my soul even if it didn’t take my physically body with it.

“Good morning Emmet,” I smiled at him trying to stare down the tears that shone from his pain filled face. If I was happy enough I could change what he had heard. I could save him all the pain that would go with my losing the weight and it wasn’t as if I planned to become really sick again. I just wanted to be a little bit thinner, I would still eat. I would still watch my children grow up and I would dance at their weddings. So why couldn’t I stop the little voice that niggled in the back of my head that said “yeah maybe from heaven.”

Emmet stared though me, his eyes shooting at the lies that crawled up my throat to try and placate him, his jaw clenched shut and his teeth grinding together like he was trying to stare the monsters out of me and that was if they were anyway a size twelve was actually verging on big for my height I just wanted to be healthier, a little bit thinner, it wasn’t the end of the world.

“Well these don’t fit me anymore.” I commented trying to make my voice happy rather than panicked like I felt inside and for a second he smiled as he took the size 12 jeans into his hands and examined the waste and the pulled stitching that went around the button. I was his pregnant wife. I was carrying another member of the big family that he had always wanted and I had reached the mile stone every one waited for, 12 weeks of baby inside me, so much safer now to the dangers that I could have presented to her.

“She’s growing,” Emmet smiled swallowing the tears and reaching out so he could cup his hand over my stomach, “but you’re shrinking.” He sighed pulling his hand away like suddenly the tiny little baby that he loved so much suddenly hurt him more than he could bear. “She’s killing you isn’t she. She probably isn’t even two inches long yet and has only just become formed fully and she is killing you. I can see it inside you. I look at you every day and you become more and more distant and she becomes bigger and bigger and you stand back and become distant, hiding behind her bump and silently hoping she will just go away, and I have let it happen because I love her almost as much as I love you but if I have to choose, if I have to save one of you, it is you and it will always be you,”   he moaned reaching forward so he could run his fingers through my hair only leaving me enough time so I could take a step back and avoid it. My actions burnt him but his words had already scolded me. I knew what his next suggestion was going to be and suddenly my loving husband had become a predator to the precious bundle hidden inside my womb.

“What are you saying?” I asked my tears actually beating his as they rolled down over my cheeks.

“I’m saying I don’t to lose my wife for the sake of a tiny foetus and I won’t if there is something I can do to stop it. I think you should have an abortion Esmee. I just want you back.”  

No story but i am excited!

Ok so i know every one loves story and for trolling my own page with no related story stuff i am sorry and i promise to update  but i just want to introduce my new little girl, She is adorable me thinks. Not sure of a name yet byt am thinking hard

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Welcome back to hell my love

Welcome back to hell my love

“We have a new admission folks” Ava shouted after giving me a few minutes. It was an approached used by some of the more gentle staff nurses to try and sedate the guilt and embracement that came with being the last person eating. For some reason they thought by keep everyone at the table and not eating for a few minutes would suggest that no one had noticed the one person that had actually kept the crowd up the crowd. It was a kind thought and done with good will but to be honest it didn’t help. It would have been just as conspicuous if she stood up in front of everyone and said “now Mi’s finished blithering about we can all get on with our day.”

 “As you all know being new here can be scary and hard so if our new arrival looks in trouble if any one who feels able could point him in the direction of staff that would be great.” Everybody who was coherent enough to answer gowned in agreement before silently agreeing inside the, self’s they would actually run in the opposite direction if the new guy so much as looked at them, or maybe that had just been me.

 I had only met two exceptions to this rule. Bella, who was dead and Summer who had faded into a depressive episode and was now hardly responsive. She ate; she got changed when prompted and slid her new uppers over her tongue and down her throat everyday with out to much of a protest. I had never seen the depressive side of Summer and I hated that I now had to bear witness to it. It was like living with her ghost.

“So do we get to call the new boy by a name Or has he got a diagnosis and nice box we can put him into to save time. We have an opening for BPD boy, High boy, angry boy, anorexic boy, OCD boy and manic boy at the moment,” one of the newer girls by the name of Rainy Waters hissed at Ava from her perch on the table It was strange for someone who normally never normally made to much fuss however she was here for a reason. Her emotions could run wild like the rest of and she had a point, we were all boxed at the staffs conveyance at times Even Emmet had made slips. Esmee was the only one who had never boxed or summed up. We were all names to her individuals in an insane world. Of course Esmee had been in our shoes. She had been anorexic girl, last to finish, first to puke.

“ I understand that you are angry at the moment Rainy and after the meal is over I would very much like to sit and have a chat about it with you however you know this is not the time or place but to answer the part of your that I can, the new guy coming in is a re-admission and some of our older clients may know him. For those of you who don’t. His name is Connor.

Exciting updates on other blog!

Hi guys no new story here yet. Concoucting plans for new twist! However the Mi are you safe blog has some new classic Mi up fot grabs if you are feeling deprived!