July 28A Chapter by Calypso
My stay was so short lived. I was only there for a night. Next weekend will be different because me being able to go home on the weekends didn’t go into effect until yesterday.
I had woken up at 7am. I was hoping to sleep in, but I knew I had to go to church.
Dad makes waffles and I ate them just to quiet him from nagging me.
Today was the first day that I was really dressed up. I wore a shirt, a lacy green top and even put lipstick on.
Dad has never liked for me to wear lipstick. He says it makes me look like a hussy. This morning I was sitting on the kitchen counter waiting for him. When he walked in he gazed at me but picked up the newspaper and abruptly turned from me. I was wearing blazing red that was called Sheer Love.
Once in Dad’s truck we hardly spoke. I sat alone during Sunday school and church. Everyone in Sunday school looked at me as if I was diseased. The other ten classmates started at me for what seems to have been forever. Their eyes wasn’t kind either, they seemed to be more nosy then curious.
They know that a pastor’s child doesn’t miss out on church for over a month for no reason.
I couldn’t wait to get out of church this morning.
When I went home I didn’t even try to change out of my clothes or wipe off the make-up.
“I have to go out.” Dad proclaimed. He was combing his hair in the large mirror in the hallway. I stayed sitting on the floor in the hallway. That’s another thing that didn’t like. He told me that if I wanted to sit I should sit in a chair not the floor or the countertops in the kitchen (my favorite place to sit when I eat).
Dad watched me “Samuel is in the hospital after his tonsils were taking out. You had a crush on him at some point, didn’t you?”
My cheeks burned red-hot.
“Why don’t you call Abigail over?” He handed me the phone. I knew that he didn’t want me to be home alone.
I quickly called her. There was little small talk. I basically asked her if she wanted to come over for a few hours. She told me she had a car now and could come over as soon as possible.
“Too bad Samuel won’t be able to eat his fruit basket.” That was the last thing we said to each other before he departed.
Once Dad was gone the sheer emptiness of the house seemed familiar. Memories of days being spent a lone washed back. It seemed like I could only feel every emotions when I’m alone. There are places in this house I’ll never adventure into even if it saved my life. The first place was Morana’s room (which looked the same as the day Morana killed herself), the backyard and Mom’s library.
I felt like s**t, so horribly sad and suffocated under the pressure of the past. Being left home alone was like a cycle. One that I didn’t realized that existed until now. The cycle began with Dad leaving, me wanting to cry, having cravings, fighting the cravings until I gave in. When I gave in I didn’t eat just one or two servings of the food. There were times when I would eat a whole box of Twinkies or five glasses of chocolate milk. It all ended with me kneeled in the bathroom floor vomiting everything. Then I would not eat the next day so I could stop myself from gaining weight.
There were times when I binged because of a bad day at school or when I felt worthless. Then I would vomit and not eat the next day.
I suddenly felt hungry. I wanted something chocolaty. Dr. Small once told me to evaluate my stomach’s contents to see if I was really hungry. After doing so I realized that yes, I was hungry.
I opened up the contents and saw fudge Oreos, boxes of Macaroni and Cheese, and Little Debbie snack cakes. I had to dig to find the canned fruit. Dr. Small also said something about eating three full meals a day. To her a meal contained a fruit, a vegetable, some type of grain and a protein.
I’m too lazy to cook at that so I opened a can of fruit cocktail, sat on the counter and ate what the can said was a serving size. The whole time I ate I couldn’t get the fudge Oreos out of my mind. After finishing the fruit I caved. I grabbed the pack of Oreos and ate ten before even pausing to think about the serving size.
Reality was harsh then. I looked at the wrapper of the Oreos. A serving size was four of them. Anger flooded me like acid and I shot the pack across the room.
“Mother f****r!” I screamed.
As I jumped off of the counter there was a knock on the door. It was Abigail. On my way to open the door I chanted ‘mother f****r’ over and over. But it wasn’t Abigail at all, it was Dad and he was pissed.
He told me his keys fell out of his pocket when getting out of the truck. He told me also that he hurried up at the hospital so he could be with me.
Dad’s eyes looked as angry as ever. When he becomes mad his eyes narrows greatly.
Dad spent ten minutes lecturing me on using curse words and he took my Ipod as punishment. He could have went on if it wasn’t for him noticing there were Oreo crumbs on my mouth and Oreos all over the place.His look of anger turned to a look of disappointment. He knew what happened.
© 2011 Calypso
Added on January 17, 2011
Last Updated on January 17, 2011
A Forgiver in Ivory
AboutYou Are 91% Creative You are an incredibly creative person. For you, there are no bounds or limits to your creativity. Your next creation could be something very great... Or at least.. more..
People who liked this story also liked..