I just want to remind everyone that this is a first draft of the story and not the finished thing. This doesn't flow as well as i would like but time i do a better edit it will. It's a bit shifty and jumpy but you will get the idea. I hope you like. As always let me know what your thinking.
Violent ends.
“Come on, I
think all this waiting around for the last minute really isn’t helping anyone.
Let’s get you down to breakfast the more you think about it the worse it’s
going to get.” It felt like a cop out, like he couldn’t understand that my
reaction was based somewhere in deep set fear inside my head. Yesterday’s
breakfast had been bad. Of course there had been more to it than that. The
words Conner had said to me had driven a part of my head into oblivion but even
without everything he put into me even without the fear of losing my mind as soon
as I got “home” on my Christmas leave and using Emmet’s razors to open my veins
I would not have managed pancakes. I could yell at anorexia and tell it that I
didn’t need it when not faced with food, but it was set in me now. It was a
part of my life like so many things that I didn’t want. There would always be a
part of me, like there was a part of Esmee and Echo and every other person that
had been infected with her vicious thoughts that would always feel Anorexia. I
would know that once there was a voice in my head that told me that all food
was evil and wasn’t something that i needed. A part of me that I had called Sophie had
tried to kill me, and I had to accept that for the rest of my life probably
Sophie would always want me dead. The trick was to learn that she was so very
wrong. You had to learn to shout back louder than her and one day you would
find that she didn’t have that much of a convincing argument anymore. I was
getting there. I was better than the 55lb child that walked through the door
but in terms of my recovery everyone knew I was still just a tiny baby. She
would still have days or weeks when I could not eat, when the bit of me that
was Sophie was a hell of a lot bigger.
“I don’t want
to go to breakfast,” I mumbled stubbornly trying to shot down the fear and the
destructive thoughts that where winning. “I’m not hungry.”
“Food has
never been an option Mi. I understand that lately the nursing staffs have
become a lot more lax with your meals and calorie intake but that wasn’t an
oversight with us. It has been deliberate to see whether you could carry on
your recovery more independently without such strict guidance. Overall we are
pleased but I think maybe subconsciously you are beginning to restrict again.
No one here will allow you to take that very far before be shot it down and if
that means delaying your discharge or cutting your leave that’s what will
happen.”
“Oh piss off.
Do I look anorexic to you! I’m just not hungry Emmet. I will eat lunch.” I
turned my back on Emmet in defiance and curled back up on the foot of my bed
still shaking my legs against the duvet cover. I fixed my eyes on a spot on the
wall to stare on. It was a pretend anger but it was a key component in the game
that I felt like I had no choice to play today. I had to ruffle Emmet up; I had
to make him angry with me. Anorexia enjoyed isolation, it caved in with sympathy
and understanding it was with isolation that it could turn a human soul to
stone.
“Mi, breakfast
and every other meal today Is not negotiable. You will be expected to eat
everything that is put in front of you and anything that is missed will be made
up with Ensure. If you refuse I will tube feed you.”
“The jokes on
you Emmet. I had my PEG taken out a week ago. I though you would remember,” I
sneered with a malicious grin. “I thought you would have remembered, I was at
the hospital all day.” I could feel my heart beat funny as I said the words.
Somehow fear had turned into sick scary determination. It wasn’t want I wanted
to be saying. There was a part of me that wanted to get up go down the stairs
and eat like I was meant to and I wanted to obey it. Silently I screamed at myself
to do what he wanted. I pushed with everything I had to make my body rise from
my bed and walk but I was just a voice in someone else’s head. My body was
being used as a host to become dark and twisted.
“I am well aware
that you have had your PEG tube taken out, and I can guarantee you I’m not
joking. I will put a tube up your nose if I have too Mi. Don’t make me.”
love the update... i think it flows fine!
ReplyDeletei like it.
ReplyDeleteI know that if you ever wanted to publish this into a book you would have to do lots of editing and stuff, but ill always be glad i got to read every bit of it :)
Thanks Ettie that has really made my day. There have been times when i think i should just give in and then i read that and it really pushes me on to keep trying. Thank you so much
ReplyDelete