Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 96513 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96513 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
The hospital I’d been in for my anorexia was nothing like this, of course. It was a top-of-the-line private facility that my mother paid a fortune for. We didn’t have the money at the time, but she still paid it. And she’d paid to expunge the records so that no one would ever know her daughter was sick.
Deborah didn’t even seem to notice my discomfort as she walked me through the halls, explaining volunteer schedules and treatment areas. I took in what I could, even though I felt the beginning of a panic attack coming on.
I just remembered waking up in a strange room and being told that I couldn’t leave because there was something wrong with me. I had been kept in that room for six straight weeks with only time out for one-on-one and group therapy. Of course, they said it wasn’t a psych ward, but I did have a mental illness—anorexia—and I would be kept in the private center with other eating disorder patients until I was well enough to enter society again. They monitored everything I put in my mouth including the medication, which made me feel worse rather than better.
It’d saved my life. That was what they’d said.
But I’d never really been able to shake my fear of being forced back here. That if they could do it once, they could do it again. I’d never expressly trusted hospitals since then.
“And this is the cancer ward,” Deborah said as she led me down the hallway.
My hands shook at my sides. This wasn’t the same hospital. It wasn’t the same. And yet, the anxiety crawled up my throat and burrowed in my skin.
“Is there a restroom nearby?” I asked, swallowing down bile.
“Oh, sure. Right down the hall, to the left. I’m going to check in on a patient. You can meet me when you’re done,” Deborah said.
I nodded and hastened into the restroom. My already-pale skin was pasty white. I looked like a ghost. I needed to get it together. I splashed water on my wrists and the back of my neck and tried to remember the meditation exercises to calm my breathing. In my mind, I repeated the soothing words over and over that I’d used after therapy.
This doesn’t control me. I control it. No one will ever force me back here. Not ever.
After a few minutes, I felt more composed and stepped out of the restroom. I didn’t know which way Deborah had gone. She’d said she was seeing a patient but not mentioned which one.
“You look lost,” a small voice said behind me.
I turned around and found a little girl with tan skin in a hot-pink dress, pink flip-flops, and a hot-pink wrap around her head. “Hi,” I said to her. “I am a bit lost. I came here with a friend, and now, I don’t see her.”
“Are you looking for Miss Deborah?” the girl asked, dramatically putting her hand on her hip and then sinking into it with extra force.
“I am,” I agreed.
“I know where she is. She’s with Patricia. I can show you the way. What’s your name?”
“That would be nice. My name is Katherine. What’s yours?”
The girl abruptly turned around with all the flare of a dancer and gestured for me to walk with her. “I’m Jem. Do you know that you look like a Disney villain?”
I laughed. “Do I really?”
“Uh, duh. Have you looked at yourself in the mirror? You’re dressed in all black. You’re wearing high heels and red lipstick. Your hair is dark. You’re pale and pretty,” Jem said. She arched her eyebrows. “Villain.”
“Well, maybe I am a villain,” I told her.
“Hmm,” Jem said, narrowing her eyes. “Does that mean I’m going to have to fight you in a battle to the death?”
I couldn’t stop the smile that stretched on my face. “That sounds very serious.”
“It is,” Jem agreed. “Okay, here we are. Miss Deborah is inside. But, Katherine,” she said, raising her finger and pointing it up to my face, “I’m keeping my eye on you.”
I stared down at this little pip-squeak of a child. She was in the cancer ward, and she had more oomph than most of the people I knew in my life. More life and vibrancy. More color—that was for sure. And she had completely obliterated the nerves that jumbled inside of me. That quick, and I’d forgotten why I was afraid. Maybe if I’d had my own Jem when I was hospitalized, I wouldn’t have even felt like this.
“That sounds okay to me,” I admitted. “Jem, do you mind if I come visit you again?”
Jem crossed her arms. “Depends on if you show up in all black again, missy.”
“I can probably find another color.”
“Pink,” Jem insisted. “It’s my favorite color.”
“I would have never guessed.”
“Okay. Sounds good. Bye, Villain Katherine. I’ll be here when you come back.” Jem turned and skipped down the hallway.