I just kind of started writing. I know what I want to write about, and I just wrote a little bit that I'll probably include somewhere else in the novel.
Just wanted to see what you think? :]
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“Aurora… uh, dinner’s ready,” Mom calls. “Come get it.”
“Okay!” I scream back, tiptoeing down the stairs.
I stand in dining room. My mother is sitting at the head of the table, my father seated next to her. I sit at the opposite end; so there are miles of tablecloth and food between us.
“How was school today, sweetie?” She questions absentmindedly.
“Fine….” No need for specifics with my mother.
She spears a green bean with her fork. “John? Can you pick up the dry cleaning before work tomorrow?”
“Sure.” My father says, thumbing through the newspaper.
I put some bread and chicken on my plate. My mother’s steely eyes lock on my hand as it reaches for a fork.
“That is not enough for a full serving, Aurora.” She recites.
“I’m not hungry.” I lie. “My lunch was huge.”
Her eyes lock on the refrigerator, where she has taped the meal plan from the nutritionist.
“If you don’t eat anything now, you can have a strawberry health shake,” She orders me. “I picked up another box of them today.”
“Uh, maybe later.” I shrug. I do not want a shake, or chicken, or warm, fattening bread.
My mother glares at me then turns towards my father. “John, she’s slipping into denial.”
“Listen to you’re mother.” He keeps his eyes on the newspaper. He doesn’t care – he only likes staying in the background.
My mother sighs and pushes her chair out from the table. It screeches against the floor as she spins around and stomps upstairs.
I roll my eyes and follow her.
“If you don’t eat enough, I’m scheduling you for a physical and an evaluation.” Mom spits.
“I have a slow metabolism. I don’t need to eat that much.”
Her eyes are on angry-fire. “You’re metabolism has slowed because it thinks you’re stuck in a famine! It’s holding onto every inch of fat to keep you alive!”
“What do you know?” I snarl.
“I’m a surgeon, Aurora. I know a lot more than you think,” She says.
“Ugh! You just don’t understand!” I shriek, stomping into my bedroom. I slam the door so hard the frame cracks.
This is our usual routine. Girl is asked to do something simple: eat, Girl refuses, caretakers become frustrated, Girl becomes angry and rebels.
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“Ugh… parents…” I mutter, twisting my doorknob. I walk into my room and flop onto my satiny bed.
I pick up my cell phone, where it’s been lying since Friday. No new text messages or calls… of course not.
Who’d want to call or text me anyway? I’m such a fat waste.
I toss it onto my desk. It lands wedged between a Biology textbook and a pile of papers.
Homework…. Something I haven’t done in a while. Oh well, no reason to start now, I mean – I graduate in a few months. As long as I pass, I’ll receive the shiny cap/gown ensemble and the certificate that proclaims me as “successful”.
That’s all I need in this world… to stay afloat.
Gender:
Points: 1040
Reviews: 30