Box of Rain
Author: Eskimo-Desi
Rating: PG-13, just to keep it safe.
Summary: Marissa has been swept up in a whirlwind of control and distortion. Warning - eating disorders will be explored in full detail. Prequel not necessary to read, but it will be somewhat important as the story progresses.
Author's Note: Many thanks to NaijaChiqa for her help.
And now...the eagerly anticipated story, first mentioned in the prequel - Unspeakables. Well, somebody said they were excited for this. So, without further ado, I give you the first chapter.
Look to you but you're confused
I feel like I can only lose
Stand a while inside my shoes
Feel the rain come down
-Boy George
November 16, 2001
"Marissa! You're going to be late for school."
Marissa yanked her maroon blazer over her head and straightened the color of her white polo shirt underneath. She wiggled into her pleated gray woolen skirt and slid her feet into her gray clogs.
Grabbing the brush on her dresser, Marissa ran it through her silky shoulder-length locks six times and put a maroon headband on.
Her black Prada messenger bag was next to the door. She slung it across her body and looked down. She'd forgotten one of the most important steps in her morning ritual.
How dare you, said the voice that lived in her head. You can't forget, you never forget.
Marissa cast her bag aside. The uniform skirt was pulled to her ankles. Marissa lifted her shirt and blazer up and stood in front of her full-length mirror. She felts her hipbones, rubbing the skin that barely covered the protruding bones exactly three times. She sighed and lifted her layers up further, hands climbing over each rib.
"Marissa!"
Marissa lowered her shirts and pulled her skirt back up. She took her messenger bag and opened the door to her room, turning off the light before she exited.
Her mother, Julie, was waiting in the kitchen with her younger sister Kaitlyn. She held out a waffle and a paper napkin.
"We're running late, so you're going to have to eat in the car."
Marissa took the waffle and wrapped it in the napkin. She followed her mother and little sister to the garage, sitting in the backseat with Kaitlyn instead of the front as she usually did.
Julie backed out of the garage and drove down the street. A black Range Rover pulled out of their neighbors' driveway and began to follow them.
"I wish you'd carpool with Seth sometimes, Marissa. Kirsten says she's more than willing to drive you on days when I've got Pilates." Julie smiled at her elder daughter in the rearview mirror but was greeted with a pale frown.
"Mom, forget it. Seth Cohen is just…ew." Marissa shuddered at the mere thought of her gangly outcast of a neighbor.
Julie shook her head. "It's such a shame to hear you talk about Seth like that; you two used to play all the time in preschool. Besides, Kirsten and I are best friends."
"Mom, that was preschool. I ate Play-Doh and didn't know any better."
Julie frowned. There was no reasoning with Marissa these days. Gone was the vibrant, lovable, obedient Marissa. In her place was a withdrawn, sullen, easily angered girl.
Julie turned onto the street the Harbor School was located on. Marissa unbuckled her seatbelt, preparing to hop out of the car as soon as it came to a stop.
"Don't forget, I'm picking you up early for your doctor's appointment."
"I don't want to go. Nothing is wrong with me." Marissa shot eye daggers at her mother.
"I'll be here at eleven. We'll go to lunch after the appointment and go shopping if you don't want to go back to school."
"I want to go shopping," Kaitlyn said. Marissa ignored her and stared out of the window at the students gathered on the quad.
Julie stepped on the brakes and Marissa quickly got out of the car. Without saying goodbye she slammed the door.
Kaitlyn rolled down the window. "Wait, Marissa you forgot to eat breakfast."
Marissa turned around and glared at her pig-tailed sister. Kaitlyn opened the car door and got out. She was wearing the same uniform – minus the blazer, as was customary for Harbor's elementary school students – as Marissa, and skipped over to her. Kaitlyn handed her glowering sister the waffle and hugged her.
Kaitlyn winced, feeling the sharp bump that was Marissa's butt bone. "Love you, Marissy." She skipped back to the car.
"Mommy, why is Marissa so pointy?" Kaitlyn asked innocently while she buckled her seatbelt.
Julie sighed. "I don't know Kaity, but you're going to be late for school if we don't hurry."
As she pulled away from the curb she saw Marissa carelessly toss the waffle into a nearby trashcan.
Marissa spotted her two best friends, Holly and Summer, talking to a junior by the name of Rich Patterson. She walked over to them.
"Hey girl!" Holly greeted Marissa with a kiss on each cheek. "Are you totally psyched for the pep rally?"
Damn it. Marissa had completely forgotten about the afternoon's pep rally she'd helped Jen Cumings, Harbor's social chair, plan. According to the perky brunette senior, Marissa was a shoo-in for social chair next year.
"I have to miss it," Marissa admitted. "I have a doctor's appointment."
"Bummer," said Summer. "Are you like, sick or something? Does this have to do with the hair on—"
"Summer!" Marissa stopped her friend. "No, it has nothing to do with that." She glared at Summer. She couldn't believer her – had she really almost mentioned Marissa's sprouting hair on her stomach in front of Rich?
"Well, feel better." Rich winked at Marissa and walked away.
"It's my mom," Marissa explained to Holly and Summer as soon as Rich was out of earshot. "She thinks I've lost too much weight lately or something."
"Well, you have gotten a little thinner since last month…" Summer pointed out.
"But she looks great!" Holly argued, tossing her bleached blond hair over her shoulder. "She's like the skinniest girl in the ninth grade."
More like the skinniest girl in the school, said the voice in Marissa's head. Or you will be soon enough.
Not for the first time, Marissa silently thanked God for giving her a friend like Holly to stick up for her.
"Besides – it's not like I've been exercising or dieting like crazy," she said.
"Yeah, but you're eating less, Marissa." Summer was obviously concerned but she knew Marissa had been bingeing and purging at the end of last year and over the summer.
"Well, duh, Summer – I haven't puked in month so you know I haven't been bingeing. You're probably just not used to me not eating like a pig."
Holly nodded in agreement. Even though Marissa and Summer had only befriended Holly over the summer, she knew all about Marissa's problematic past – bulimia included.
"I guess…"
"I'm sure I've only lost a few pounds. It's nothing to worry about, that's for sure. I mean, it's not like I'm anorexic or anything." Marissa laughed, and Holly joined in.
"Don't be such a worrywart, Sum. I wish I could eat healthy like Marissa. She's only just slimmed down a bit, you know." Holly linked arms with Marissa and Summer and led them into the school.
Summer still had a pensive, bothered look on her face. Marissa caught her eye and smiled reassuringly.
She was fine. She'd have to convince Summer by eating a little more at lunch.
And you'll compensate by cutting back on dinner. Or skipping breakfast every day, instead of occasionally. The voice spoke calmly, confined to the jumbled space of Marissa's brain.
It would work perfectly. She'd use the calories from breakfast at lunch. That was all. Marissa opened her bag and felt around for a piece of gum. She needed something to chew to get rid of the hunger gnawing at her stomach.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Marissa's science class was watching a slideshow on the three major types of bacteria – coccus, bacilli, and spirilla. Marissa stifled a yawn as dyed bacteria squirmed across the screen.
A knock came at the classroom door and the entire class looked over, glad to have a distraction, any distraction, from the subject at hand.
The teacher, Mr. Gorelick, walked over to the door and opened it. With his back to the students, they began to whisper among themselves.
"Marissa, your mother is here." Mr. Gorelick scanned the rows of uniform-clad students for his brightest one. Over the last few weeks she'd stopped raising her hand, speaking only when called on. Mr. Gorelick was a little surprised at Marissa's sudden disinterest in participating in his class. Her work was superb as usual, however, and Mr. Gorelick found no reason to worry.
Marissa stood up and gathered her books. She eased her bag over her shoulder and walked to the door, a chorus of goodbyes following her. She shut the door and began to walk down the hall with her mother, although not acknowledging Julie's presence.
In less than a minute she heard the classroom door shut. Out walked Luke Ward, Marissa's boyfriend.
"Hello, Luke." Julie smiled warmly at Marissa's good-looking boyfriend. He wasn't even fifteen but Julie thought he was rapidly transforming into a magazine spread worthy man. "Shouldn't you be in class?"
"Bathroom break." Luke held up the bathroom pass Mr. Gorelick had given him and smiled. He wrapped Marissa up in one of his rare bear hugs and said, "Good luck." Of course Marissa had told him she had a doctor's appointment, but she had said it was just a check up, and that maybe she'd have to get some shots.
"'Bye Marissa, Mrs. Cooper." Luke hurried off towards the bathroom.
"He's such a caring boyfriend." Julie approved.
Marissa said nothing, but quickened her pace.
"Can we just skip the appointment?" she said suddenly. "I need new shoes."
"I had to fight with that bitch of an assistant at Dr. Jones's office to get an appointment so little in advance," Julie said. "But we can go for shoes afterwards."
Marissa let it drop. She'd rely on the doctor to convince her mother that she was perfectly healthy. Because she was in good health, wasn't she?
You are fine, the little voice said. You just slimmed down a bit, that's all. In fact, losing a few more pounds wouldn't hurt. Then you'd be more than fine; you'd be perfect.
On the way to Dr. Jones's office, Julie let Marissa listen to her headache-inducing music—something she almost never allowed in her car but found more tolerable than that vulgar rap music kids were into these days.
Once they arrived at Dr. Jones's office, Julie parked the car and they entered the twelve-story brick building.
"Let's take the stairs – it's good exercise, you know," Julie suggested, trying to get her daughter to pay attention to her – to say anything at all – but really she was just interested in working her leg muscles since she'd be missing her afternoon training session with Antonio.
"No, I'm taking the elevator. Too many stairs," stated Marissa. She headed over to the elevators and pushed the up arrow.
Lazy. Lazy. The words echoed inside her head. Marissa was sure she was thinking them but couldn't process the thoughts. Take the stairs, weakling. You could use the exercise.
Now her mother's words buzzed about. It's good exercise, you know. Was her mom implying that Marissa was…fat? Marissa almost hated to think the word. Julie was the one who was concerned with her weight. So first she was losing too much, but as of now she could stand to lose more?
Your mother is right now. You need the exercise. You've been too lazy lately.
I know, Marissa pleaded with the voice, give me a break. I've got tennis three afternoons a week and twice on Sundays – I'm on the team so I get in shape then.
Now. Marissa liked the voice; it was always flat and smooth, no matter how angry she made it. Except she was the one she could hear thinking, right?
"It's only three flights of stairs, dear." Julie persisted in convincing Marissa to walk with her but when the elevator came to their floor, Marissa stepped in, leaving Julie no choice but to follow her.
You should've taken the stairs. Marissa shook her head, disapproving of herself. She promised herself she'd do twenty extra jumping jacks later and fifty more sit-ups.
In the elevator, Marissa pushed the button and leaned against the wall. The lighting did no justice for her skin; to her mother she looked fairly washed out.
"I want you asleep early tonight, Marissa. You look tired. Maybe you need to start taking vitamins…" Julie stopped short with a silencing glare from Marissa.
Her mom was always picking on her. Marissa this, Marissa that. Nothing Marissa did was right in Julie's eyes. Too much makeup…not enough makeup…fashion no-no…Marissa was always committing some sort of crime in her mother's eyes.
They got out on the third floor and headed for Dr. Jones's office. In the waiting room Marissa took a seat and Julie decided it would be best if she sat on the opposite side of the room.
Marissa had become increasingly hostile towards her lately and Julie didn't want to do anything that might further upset her.
Julie picked up a magazine and blocked out the quiet chattering of the other waiting patients.
A short African American woman – a nurse – opened the door that led to Dr. Jones's examination rooms.
"Gillian Greene," she called out in a monotonous voice.
An overweight redhead of medium height followed the woman.
Marissa stared curiously at Gillian when the teenager attempted to smile at her. She shrank in her seat, almost afraid that if Gillian came to close she'd rub off onto Marissa. How did that girl feel about herself? She was fat, and Marissa knew she was thinking meanly, but she was terrified of becoming so herself.
Once she was gone Marissa giggled, trying to block out her own insecurities.
"What?" Marissa looked to her left and saw a small boy sitting a few chairs over. "What's so funny?" he demanded to know.
Marissa shook her head. "Nothing."
Don't laugh, the voice warned. If you're not careful, if you're selfish, you'll end up looking like that.
No I won't, Marissa countered, I don't have red hair. She laughed nervously. The small boy began to pick his nose.
It seemed like her brain had split off into two parts, one that she knew she controlled and one that snuck up on her at the oddest of times. It was quite the elusive…whatever it was. Whenever Marissa thought too hard about it she lost herself. She just couldn't pinpoint where the contradictory thoughts were coming from. She'd given up trying to reason with her mind and find out what was causing the thoughts, accepting them as her own.
The waiting-room nurse came out again. "Marissa Cooper." She had nice, defined cheekbones. Marissa couldn't see her body in the scrubs she was wearing.
Marissa stood up and Julie put her magazine down on the chair next to her.
"Do you want me to come back with you?" she asked tentatively.
Marissa shrugged and walked over to the nurse. Julie, grateful for the response – neither a yes nor a no – and followed her daughter. Marissa normally ignored Julie's questions or vehemently argued against them. A shrug was a nice, calm change.
"Dr. Jones will see you in room four in just a minute." The nurse opened the door to the examination room and let the Coopers in. There were two chairs in the room, and Julie and Marissa each took one.
"How long is this going to take?" Marissa asked in a bored tone.
"I'm not sure." Julie looked around the room for a magazine, a pamphlet, something to do.
There were no magazines, nothing behind which Julie could hide from Marissa's negative vibes, and when the door finally opened, ushering Dr. Jones into the room, both Julie and Marissa were relieved.
"Hello, Mrs. Cooper." Dr. Jones was busting out of her white lab coat. If it was intended to hide her, it wasn't working. She stared at Marissa with her intensely blue eyes, and Marissa uneasily looked away. Marissa's head always hurt when she stared at them for too long. "Marissa. Now what are we here for today?"
She looked at Marissa, expecting the young teen to answer her, but her mother began to speak.
"Marissa's lost some weight recently…and I'm concerned," Julie told the doctor.
"I haven't!"
"Well," Dr. Jones looked from mother to daughter, "I guess the only way to find out is to get her on a scale."
Marissa folded her arms and stood up. "Take your shoes off, please," Dr. Jones ordered. Marissa took her shoes off and stepped on the scale that was up against the wall.
Dr. Jones moved the weights around. First he moved the 100 bar and the scales tipped down.
No, Marissa thought. I can't possibly weigh one hundred. I've got to weight less.
Dr. Jones moved the 50 bar, and the scales tipped up, obviously.
Marissa held her breath as the one pound bar moved to fifteen, twenty…thirty-seven…forty-four…forty-six.
The scales balanced out. Quickly Marissa added it all up in her head. Fifty plus forty-six was ninety-six. Not too bad. Not bad at all.
Not good, the voice yelled. Too much! You can do better than ninety-six!
Dr. Jones wrote something on her clipboard. "Marissa weighs ninety-six pounds," she said. "I want to measure your height."
Marissa stood against the wall next to the height markers. "Sixty-five inches." She scribbled away on the paper.
Again, Marissa did the calculations. She was five feet, five inches. Ninety-six pounds. 1.4 pounds per inch. That sounded like a lot to Marissa.
"Well, at Marissa's last visit she was five feet, four inches, and she weighed one-hundred and four pounds. She's grown an inch but lost eight pounds."
She'd grown, but still managed to lose weight! Marissa tried to hide the smile that planted itself on her face.
You only lost eight pounds, and besides, you grew an inch. There's more of you now. Don't be so giddy, girl. Marissa shut out the voice when Dr. Jones spoke again.
"I'm not extremely worried as of yet, Mrs. Cooper. But I am concerned – and if Marissa continues to lose weight it could become a problem."
"What should we do? I don't want Marissa to make herself sick." Julie sent Marissa a warning look.
"Make sure she's getting enough to eat. Sometimes these kids get so caught up in school and activities that they forget to eat properly. Why don't you make an appointment to come back in two weeks so we can make sure Marissa hasn't lost any more weight. Just tell Justine that I've given it the okay."
Julie nodded. Justine was a bitch and Julie couldn't wait to tell her that Dr. Jones wanted Marissa back in two weeks. That would present the girl with a scheduling conflict and Julie was excited. It served the rude, incompetent secretary right.
Dr. Jones turned to Marissa, who was slipping her clogs back on. "Thank you for being so cooperative, Marissa. Your mother's worried about you, so please don't give her anymore to worry about."
Marissa nodded, opened the door, and left the room.
"Thank you for seeing her on such short notice, Dr. Jones," Julie said, starting to walk out.
"Wait, Mrs. Cooper, can I speak with you for a minute?"
Julie nodded and reentered examination room four. She shut the door and sat down. Dr. Jones sat in the chair Marissa had occupied moments before.
"How long has this been going on?"
Julie shrugged, unsure. "I couldn't tell you exactly, but I noticed two weeks ago that Marissa looked a little thinner…and I thought maybe she was just slimming down, naturally shedding that baby fat, but –"
"Mrs. Cooper, Marissa was quite thin at the last checkup, although not too thin. Is it possible that she's started dieting because you've told her she still has her baby fat?"
"I'd never say that to Marissa. I never have. And she hasn't been dieting – at least I don't think so. She used to have such a healthy appetite and now…she eats like a bird, Dr. Jones."
"I understand. I want you to make sure she eats breakfast and dinner; lunch can't be monitored because she's at school. There may not be a problem at all, but she's a growing girl and we shouldn't let this slip by unnoticed. And I have good reason to suspect that Marissa's weight loss is deliberate, but we'll have to see."
"Thank you, Dr. Jones." Julie left the room.
She stopped by Justine's office to schedule an appointment, smiling with delight when the surly secretary grumbled about having to cancel another patient's appointment.
"Have a nice day, Justine," she said, walking out of the office and back into the waiting room, where Marissa was waiting.
"Can we go for shoes now?"
"Yes, Marissa."
"Let's take the stairs, Mom. Since it's good exercise," Marissa suggested, not a trace of sarcasm in her tone that Julie suspected she was heading underneath.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
"So how was your doctor's appointment?" Holly said on the other end of the line.
"It was stupid," Marissa said, "Dr. Jones says I've grown an inch but lost eight pounds."
"Wow! I'm jealous. Are you in trouble now?"
"Not yet, but I have to go back in two weeks and if I've lost more weight then I might be." Marissa wasn't sure what the doctor had meant about her weight loss becoming a problem but she honestly didn't care.
Good, said the voice in her head. The opinionated voice had become more of a permanent fixture. You shouldn't care. They're worrying over nothing. You're not even that skinny.
Yet, thought Marissa. She grinned then and could almost picture the voice with a matching smile. Almost.
"So don't lose anymore weight." Holly, ever the genius, was quick to suggest this.
"It's not like I can help it even if I do…I'm not trying or anything. My mom is just being a bitch because she's jealous of me."
"I know what you mean. Just the other day my mom said that she had dropped a pants size and we'd probably be able to fit into each other's clothes. I mean, she's almost forty, for God's sake." Both girls giggled.
"Oh, guess what, Hol?" Marissa didn't wait for Holly to guess, because Holly would never guess. Instead, she'd babble on with insane hypothesis such as You met Orlando Bloom at Jamba Juice? Or You're moving to Kansas? "I was at the mall, buying shoes, and this man came up to me and my mom and asked us if I'd ever considered modeling. He said I had just the right build for it, and that I looked like I'd be really tall in a few years. He gave me his card, but I don't think my mom is going to let me call him."
"Ohmigosh!" Holly squealed, "That's amazing! He's right, you know. You're gorgeous and thin and I bet you're going to be like, really tall in a year or two."
"Marissa!" It was her father, Jimmy, calling her.
"I have to go, Holly."
"Okay, bye. Love ya."
Marissa was about to hang up when she remembered something. "Hol?"
"Yeah?"
"Don't tell Summer what I told you, okay?"
"Don't worry, I won't."
Marissa hung up the phone. Holly was a little slow at times, but she was a great friend all the time.
"Marissa! Dinner's ready."
Marissa was about to yell back that she wasn't hungry but knew it wouldn't fly with her mother. Another, better idea popped into her head.
Tell them you want your dinner in your room. You can trash it then. Or flush it down the toilet – just like when you used to throw up, except there won't be a chance of any food being left in your body.
"Dad, I have a lot of homework. Can I eat in my room?"
Jimmy knocked on Marissa's bedroom door a few minutes later. She was lounged on her bed, science binder open, trying to remember the names and shapes of those bacteria they'd learned about.
"Come in," she said.
"Here you go, kiddo." Jimmy set the plate and a glass of apple juice on Marissa's desk. He walked over to her and ruffled her hair. "Ah – science. Hated it."
"Me too."
"Don't stay up too late, Marissa. Your mother wants you asleep early."
I know, Marissa mouthed at the door after Jimmy had left. Don't I know what my mother wants.
She wants you to get fat, the voice sang. But you won't. Your mother doesn't control you. You control you.
Yes. She controlled herself. Right. Right?
After a few minutes Marissa took the plate and cup to the bathroom. She poured the apple juice down the drain and mashed up the salmon and asparagus with the fork. Then, little by little, she flushed it down the toilet. After three flushes Marissa was afraid that she might clog up the pipes, so she wrapped the rest in tissues and hid it at the bottom of the garbage can in her bathroom. The maid emptied the trashcans every day so the last remnants of her meal would be gone by tomorrow.
She smiled, walked back into her room and set the cleared plate and empty glass, along with the silverware, on her bed. That had been easy. Too easy.
They're easily fooled. Don't think you're so smart, Marissa. That damned voice!
She finished her science homework and washed up. She was really tired, and wasn't going to put up a fight with her mother. Lately, she'd become bored with strenuous activity. There was no point in exertion, when it would only stimulate her appetite. She knew she needed to become stronger though, and she would. No matter how hard it was.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Marissa stood on the scale in examination room two this time.
Dr. Jones moved the weights. Marissa held her breath. This time, the 50 weight and forty-two balanced the scale.
"You've lost four pounds, Marissa." Dr. Jones's tone was neither angry nor congratulatory.
"Four pounds!" Julie turned to Marissa. "Have you been making yourself throw up? Have you? I'm not going to stand for this nonsense!"
"Mrs. Cooper, calm down. You're only getting yourself riled up, and that won't do you or Marissa any good. Now, Marissa, can you sit up here for a minute?" Dr. Jones patted the examination table. Marissa sat on it and Dr. Jones examined her neck. "There's no apparent swelling."
"I haven't been throwing up," Marissa said quietly.
"And I've been making sure she eats. I don't understand, Dr. Jones," Julie whined. She was such a baby, thought Marissa. She's just upset because things aren't going her way – after all, I did outsmart her.
"Have you been eating with her, Mrs. Cooper?"
Julie looked up at the doctor. "Well…not always. It's just…she's become so distant, it's hard to get through to her and hard to keep track of her."
"Okay." Dr. Jones took a deep breath. Mrs. Cooper was worrying her almost as much as Marissa's rapid weight loss. "I think we need to get Marissa some help."
"Do you mean the hospital? Is she that sick?" Julie seemed genuinely worried for once.
"I'm not going to the hospital. I'm fine. I'm perfectly healthy." Marissa glared at her mom.
"Not the hospital. Not yet. I think Marissa needs to see a psychiatrist. Maybe there's an underlying problem here, and it's really not about the weight."
"Of course it's about the weight," Julie snapped, "We live in Newport. They practically hand you an eating disorder when you buy a house."
"Mrs. Cooper, please. I'll give you the name and number of a psychiatrist I think can help Marissa." Dr. Jones opened the door and gestured for Marissa and her mother to follow her. Marissa slipped her shoes back on.