Total pages in book: 157
Estimated words: 150968 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 755(@200wpm)___ 604(@250wpm)___ 503(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 150968 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 755(@200wpm)___ 604(@250wpm)___ 503(@300wpm)
They hear it, except they don’t care.
My heart thumps in my chest when I try to speak again. My body is weak, broken under the traumatic events of tonight, but I keep my spine straight. “I can get help. There’s a therapist I researched—
“Pack your bags,” my father says roughly, cutting me off, “you’re leaving tonight.”
My lungs squeeze, painfully. “W-what do you m-mean?” I stammer helplessly. “I don’t understand.”
“I’m sending you to a rehab place I know.”
Rehab?
My eyes widen, and I scramble to my feet. “Wait, but what about school? I can’t just leave.”
I know I need help…
I’ve always known, but somehow, I chose to stay quiet, chose to stay willfully blind. Because it was easier that way. Better.
It was the illusion I created around me.
My father stalks over to me, and his hand comes up. He grips my face, his fingers digging into my flesh. “Do you realize what you did tonight? Do you realize the mess you’ve left behind for me to clean up? Do you really think I’ll let you stay here after the disgusting chaos you caused tonight?”
“It’s not my fault,” I cry out brokenly. “J-Jasper, he tried to—"
My father backhands me so hard, my head spins, and I gasp, my breath stuttering in my throat. “Shut up,” he roars, his spittle landing on my face. “I am done with your constant excuses. Always blaming someone else for your stupid, stupid mistakes.”
He pushes me away from him, and my body crumples to the ground. “Please… please, don’t force me to leave.”
I can’t go to rehab.
I can’t go to a place I’m not familiar with. Just the thought of it fills me with extreme anxiety and I can’t breathe, can’t think straight.
I just…can’t.
“Why do I need to go to rehab? We can find a therapist here. I don’t need to leave school; I don’t need to leave home.” — the only place I’ve known all my life. Even though it’s a tomb, it’s the only place I belong, right?
I grab onto his ankle, sobbing helplessly. “Please, Daddy,” I beg, leaving my bleeding heart at his feet. “Don’t force me to leave. Please. I can’t go. I can’t…please.”
If I go, I’ll lose whatever is left of my sanity.
My father squats down, so we’re at eye level. There’s no remorse, not an ounce of emotion on his face, except anger and disgust. “Listen to me carefully, Riley. You ruined my reputation tonight and you will fix it. This is how you’re going to fix it. I’m putting you in the best, most expensive rehab in the country. You will stay there, until things calm down. Until the rumors die down and until whatever you did tonight is forgotten. We will tell the world that you’re getting the help you need, and they will be satisfied with that. And you and your anorexic self will stay out of my sight. Understood?”
“Bulimia,” I whisper, the sound of my heart shattering echoes in my ears. It’s the first time I’ve said it — admitted it out loud. “I researched…I have bulimia, not anorexia.”
His lips curl with a sneer. “Whatever it is, I don’t care. You’re leaving tonight. Get changed, pack your bags and get the fuck out of my sight, Riley.”
Tears slide down my cheeks and I choke on my sobs. My father walks away, leaving me and my mother alone. “I can’t go, Mom.”
“You need help,” she says, grimacing, “you’re sick.”
I see the look on her face, the unguarded expression she gives me. My gaze falls to the floor, my body growing numb. Coldness seeps into my bones, and my heart withers.
“I know I’m sick, but why does that disgust you?”
Her answer is silence, and as her footsteps fade away, I let out another wretched cry. “Why? WHY? Why does that disgust you? Why do you…hate me so much? WHY?”
Why can’t you just tell me it’s going to be okay?
Why don’t you care?
Why can’t you just pretend to care?
But I know I will never get the answers to my questions. I rub my hands down my face, swiping away the tears and snot. Then standing up on my shaky legs, I straighten my spine.
They can’t break me.
I won’t let them break me.
My existence has been obliterated, and I pick up the fragmented pieces of my soul with my bare, bleeding hands.
I do as I’m told.
Dutiful. Loyal. Compliant.
It’s a repeated mantra in my head; I can’t escape it no matter how hard I try. The grooming that’s been done to me since I was merely a child.
I pack my bags, and I get inside the waiting car. The moon is full in the dark midnight sky, beautiful. A deep contrast to the ugliness that surrounds my soul, my very being.
And with that, I leave behind the Riley the world has always known.
CHAPTER EIGHT