Silence.

I was sitting in the gray room staring at the white walls. I hadn’t even put my bed sheets down on the new bed I’d have to use. I moved my sight from the blank walls to out the little window, to the peaceful garden down below. I looked across my room to the dresser that was already here, probably used by someone else. Then to the bathroom in the corner. None of this felt right. I looked to the door that I had entered into this room about three hours ago. That door is where my parents said goodbye as I sat on the bed, like now. In about an hour, I was to be dragged into a room and talked to by a psychiatrist. He is supposed to “help” me, and or “cure” me. But, I don’t want to be cured. Not to be cured of myself.

 

You might find yourself pondering how did I get here? Why do I have to go to therapy? And, why I can’t move?

 

Long story short, about two days ago, my secret I’d been hiding for about two years finally got revealed. I was just changing clothes! I was finally happy with my body, enough to change clothes in my bedroom, without locking the door. And right as I had only underwear on, my mom decided to rush into my room. And she saw it, saw me, and my lovely, lovely bones. My mother face went pale white, and I swore she was going to collapse if my father wasn’t right behind her. His face was just as shocked, and immediately I had thrown my clothes on. My mom was sobbing as she walked away screaming to my father, ‘call the doctors office, NOW!’

 

When we got to my doctors office he weight me on the scale. 86 pounds. I swore I was closer to eighty pounds. I looked over to my mother who was still crying. I couldn’t even stand looking at her, so I turned my head back to the doctor. He was writing down my stats and walking towards his office room. This must mean business. My doctor was stating everything they (my parents) could do. I was thirty pounds underweight, and they knew it was obviously intentional.

“The best recommended idea is for your daughter to go into the countrys finest recovering facility in Denver, Colorado. They’d be able to ‘fix’ me. That is what my parents did. We went home that day and packed all of my clothes, and got me the plane ticket out there. We got to Denver, went into the facility, my parents checked me in, then said goodbye.

 

 

Within two days, I was diagnosed with Anorexia Nervosa, something I’d been dealing with for two years. Now I was stuck in some place far, far away, until I got “better.”

 

I heard footsteps walking down the hallway outside my room and took a quick glance up at the clock. It read 1:58 P.M, my meeting was at two. I looked out the window as the footsteps got closer. Everything was so quiet, I even heard when they placed a hand on the doorknob and opened it.

“Harmony Violet Wynn,” the lady said. I didn’t turn my head. Maybe it was because I hated my full name. Truthfully, I HATED my name. I hated a lot of things lately. “Harmony, it is time to go see Dr. Lutz.” I closed my eyes. I didn’t belong here, I don’t belong anywhere. But I’d find a way out of all this somehow. I opened my eyes before standing up. I saw the smile appear on the ladies face as she said, “this way.” I followed her through numerous doors and what not till we reached the door. “He is expecting you.”

 

Wait, HE? I thought all this time it was a chick I’d have to fool. This made everything worse. I walked in through the doors and as soon as I was in, the doors shut. I’d be in here for two hours.

“Harmony, you can take a seat wherever you please.” I didn’t do anything. I saw four seating spots. I saw a bean bag, a really comfy looking chair, a really uncomfortable looking chair, and then a chair all the way in the corner that looked broken. Guess which one I took? As I sat in the chair, it made a little squeak under all my weight. But I was right, it was broken. I took my knees and placed then close to my body, than took my arms and lightly folded them on top of my knees before placing my head down on my arms and closing my eyes.

 

I knew he was talking. He was saying something to me. But I wasn’t listening, I was drifting off to Harmony land. Where everything wrong was right and nothing was bad. I was safe in Harmony land. Then I remembered. I need to get out of here. Sooner, the better. I opened my eyes, and moved my head to face the man sitting at the desk.

 

Now that I looked at him, I saw why my parents picked him. He was charming. Had brown hair, blue eyes and I don’t know, he was overall beautiful. He had stopped talking, and was just looking back at me. I wondered what he thought. Why be stuck with an ugly fat girl? That made chairs creak? Or was he thinking I had a pretty face? I got told that a lot. My silver eyes, that sometimes went blue/green, along with my pale skin that was flawless, and my lips that always were originally a pretty color. I swallowed and blinked, and it was as if we never shared those moments. He’d started asking questions again and I just watched.

 

Something was wrong. I COULDN’T speak. Not even if I wanted to. I was too hurt. I just wanted Ana. Ana was me, I suppose you should say. That is our nickname for her. The perfection behind what us girls want. We starve ourselves to perfection so we’d have some attempt at being like her.

By the time I’d stopped thinking he’d already stopped again waiting for an answer. I couldn’t give him one. I closed my eyes and moved my head back to the side drifting back to Harmony land. I’d be there for the next hour and a half if anybody needed me.

Reviews

[SRMarx]

This is a great idea and topic. I am interested to continue reading. I definitely liked your reveal.

[Stephanie Jones]

Koufus- I understand the simplicity of my writing. I could write a detailed and elabortate tale, but I prefer writing with more commonly used words so it is easier and more understandable for the readers. Also, I calmed down on using the big words because it is being told from a teenagers p.o.v. and I wanted people to really feel as if they were the girl dealing with this struggle, the struggle in which they are fighting a mental battle and losing a war within themselves.

Comrade Andrew- I'm glad I was able to help you understand. I have struggled with these problems also like your friend, and she'll probably be glad someone understands.

[Comrade Andrew]

A very close friend of mine recently went through some difficult times dealing with anorexia, I'm enjoying this read it makes me understand things from her view more clearly. Thank you, and I'll be sure to continue reading.

[H]

I'm very interested in psychological disorders, and I always find stories about them to be equally as absorbing. Your writing style is very simple, so I didn't get lost in it, and you didn't abuse the hell out of the thesaurus. There are a few things in need of fixing, some that don't make sense, but it's enjoyable to read overall.