18 year old Amelia Shepherd sat in her chair on the rolling green lawn of Central Park, bored out of her mind. Of course Shepherd had to be towards the end of the alphabet. Scuffing her heels against the grass, she looked up in time to see the row in front of her stand up and walk up to the podium to accept their diplomas. She heaved a sigh; that meant she was next. The sun was shining in her eyes and she shifted her blue gown to be more comfortable in the sticky heat of June. Underneath she wore a white lace Alice and Olivia dress that barely fit her – she was fresh out of eating disorder treatment, it was a miracle she was graduating at all. She swallowed again as her brown curls hung down her back in the head. As her name was announced, she could hear her family cheering for her as she walking across the stage, accepting her diploma and shaking the hand of the principal of her private girls school, before going back to sit down. Somehow she had done what she thought was impossible – she had graduated.
At the end of the ceremony, when her small class of 83 girls tossed their caps in the air, she felt a sigh of relief. She was finished. She was leaving this place for bigger and brighter things, for Boston and Harvard, saying goodbye to her mother and sisters, to her brother and his wife, to become her own person finally. She was saying goodbye to familiar places – to her fathers store that was a place of misery for her, to the house she grew up in, crowded with sisters and her older brothers massive ego, to the regular haunts she'd managed to sneak into, to the drug dealers that had hawked their pills at her.
Moving out of her area holding onto her diploma, she went in search of her family – three dark haired girls that looked almost exactly like her, a dark haired guy, a greying older woman, and a tall red head. Pursing her red lips, she scanned the lawn before the spotted them and headed their way, cap and gown in her arms, dressed in her loose white dress.
"Amelia!" her mother called out, wrapping her arms around her daughter. She plastered a smile on her face and hugged her back.
"Mom," she smiled, her curtain of dark curls hiding her features as she made a small face. Straightening up she accepted hugs from the family, knowing that for once she had made them proud. As she stood there, she couldn't help but think back to the beginning of her senior year.
The beginning of the year had started out just like every other year did. Amelia was one of the most popular girls in school, and with her brother living with Addison uptown, and her sisters away at school, Carolyn had decided to visit her own mother in Arizona, leaving their pretty townhouse free for the perfect back to school party. Amelia and her friends Olivia and Vivi had planned the perfect party, right down to the alcohol – privileged girls always had access to the best of the best, and even if Amelia was on a partial scholarship for merit, they had never treated her like she was beneath them. With the house stocked with more alcohol than she could fathom, she let the guys bring whatever pills and drugs they wanted, and the three girls slipped into matching black strapless dresses. She remembered feeling unhappy with the way her body looked in hers, but that was soon forgotten after more than 10 vodka shots. She was trashed by the time her friend Lucas had offered her ecstasy, and once the pill had worked she was floating on air, having the time of her life. Adding on a few Oxy, she felt untouchable, but once someone shoved a beer into her hand, she didn't remember the rest of the night, until she woke up naked in her bed the next morning, sore between her legs and trying to remember what happened – she just couldn't. It was a huge enigma to her, even as she shuffled to the closest Duane Reade for Plan B.
That was when everything went to shit.
It started by cutting out breakfast. She slept so late that she only had time to throw on her school uniform – a wool skirt with a white polo, a navy blazer thrown on top with the Spence crest on the left side. She wore whatever she wanted on her feet, usually a pair of heels, tights added on in winter, her hair either in a bouncy ponytail or straight down her back. She would grab a granola bar and a bottle of water on her way out the door and walk the 15 blocks to school on 91st street, tossing the granola bar in the first trashcan she could find and drinking the bottle of water. Slipping into the back of the chapel, she technically wasn't late until homeroom, which she was always present for.
Then she started skipping lunch in favor of a cigarette; seniors had the privilege to have lunch outside of the school and most of them abused it. She always had a cigarette and another bottle of water, spritzing herself with her favorite perfume before sliding into French class. By mid-September she had lost 7 pounds and a dress size, much to her surprise. Being a tiny person to begin with, she stood in front of the mirror looking at herself, looking for places she could improve. And that was her downfall.
Cutting out dinner came next, until she was only drinking water to sustain her through the day. Even though it was getting cold outside, it chilled her to the bone and she found herself wearing two pairs of tights, long sleeves under her polo shirt and blazer, and a heavier coat than she should in October. She didn't know how she could get away with Halloween; it was an excuse to wear as little clothes as possible and she was going as a cat, in a black slip dress and silver rhinestone cat ears she'd stolen from her sister Kate. The party, of course, was happening at her house, since it was big and had multiple floors.
By the time Halloween came, she had lost fifteen pounds and was down to a size 0. Dressed in nothing but her black slip, her hair falling over her shoulders in curls, her lips done up in a big red pout, she, Liv, and Vivi welcomed all the private schools into her house. The amount of alcohol in the house was triple the amount from back to school, as were the drugs, and for a moment after doing some vodka shots, she felt out of control with her new weight of 98 pounds. She was floating on air as her friend Chase passed some Oxy to her, which she washed down with more vodka – she was untouchable. Recently she had started seeing this guy, his name was Blake – he went to Dalton, a co-ed school, but she felt confident in herself that he wouldn't cheat on her. Once she found him in the second floor great room of the house, nursing one of her dad's old bottles of scotch, she planted herself on his lap.
"Hey baby," she cooed, her lips making contact with his. He wrapped his arms around her, slightly surprised at how thin she'd gotten.
"Jesus Amelia, you'd so skinny," he said, but kissed her back, pressing her against the wall.
"It's just a silly contest at school, you know how competitive we get," she giggled, taking a sip of her vodka tonic, a few limes garnishing it – her signature drink. He laughed and squeezed her ass before kissing her again and pulling her onto his lap. The room was spinning but nothing hurt – just the way she liked it. She was drunk and high as a kite and she loved it. She didn't have a care in the world, and on Halloween she loved it that way.
She continued to lose weight, hiding it beneath her blazer. She swapped out polos and skirts for smaller sizes, but kept the too-big blazer in order to hide how small she was. By Thanksgiving she weighed 90 pounds, characterized by her protruding eyes and sunken cheeks. She knew Derek and Addison could tell, especially being in the heart of residency, but she fought off accusations by eating a few bites of turkey and stuffing, then excusing herself by saying she had a stomachache, going upstairs only to purge those few bites until she was puking up blood. She swallowed five Oxy, falling into a deep sleep that she didn't wake up from until Black Friday afternoon – crap, she had a shopping date with Liv. Rolling over, she quickly texted her friend – she was too tired and cold to get up and do anything but lay in her bed.
Her mother was too busy to worry, as were her sisters in college and med school. Derek and Addison were too into themselves and their jobs, and so she slipped beneath the cracks in their family, which only made her push herself more.
Christmas was a nightmare, with another ten pounds gone from her already small frame. Dressed in a red velvet dress, she went to church with her family like she always did at midnight, before going to bed. Getting up in the morning and making sure she didn't look like crap was another story. She pulled on leggings and a chunky sweater, choosing the place closest to the fireplace so she could be warmer. She knew her mother was suspicious of her, especially now that her hair was starting to fall out and her cheeks were sunken in.
She managed opening presents, but brunch was daunting. Eggs, bacon, French toast, and so much more – she wanted to cry at the amount of food on the table, but she took a little bit of everything, the toilet in her bathroom in mind. Once she felt disgusting enough, and had had a good amount of water, she politely excused herself and dashed up four flights of stairs to purge as quickly as she could, needing the calories out of her body. Afterwards, she stripped down naked and stepped on the scale – she was a pound lighter than before, down to 79 pounds. She'd lost 31 pounds since the beginning of the school year. She knew she had a problem, she knew how sick she was, but she just couldn't stop until she stopped hating herself as much as she hated herself that night.
By mid-January though, Amelia had hit an alarming weight of 72 pounds. On a mad rush into her bedroom from her bathroom, Carolyn walked in without knocking, and screamed at the sight of her naked daughter.
"Amelia!" she yelled, while Amelia hung her head in shame, covering up what used to be her breasts and everything else. She couldn't cover up her protruding hips and ribs, or her sunken in stomach. She burst into tears, grabbing a blanket to cover herself with; she was shaking with both fear and cold. She couldn't speak or move, until she collapsed to the floor.
"I don't know what you want me to say," she mumbled to her, wrapping her blanket around her.
"I'm calling your brother," Carolyn said, still shocked at her daughters appearance. She knew Amelia had suffered ever since she was young with varying issues, but she wasn't about to let her kill herself. Years later, she would forget those words.
A few days later, Amelia found herself in the front seat of the car, the backseat piled with her things. Derek had made some calls and she was headed to the eating disorders unit at New York Presbyterian. Amelia felt trapped on the ward and kept to herself in her room as much as she could – at first they didn't chase after her to eat, but eventually they came into her room, shoving an NG tube down her nose. After that, she would sit at the window in her room, wrapped in one of her blankets from home, watching the world outside go by. It was the coldest January she could remember.
Her mother kept bringing her schoolwork to keep up with so she could graduate on time, and the perfectionist side of her kept up with it, even with no fuel in her body to motivate her. It was an automatic thing; she had it in front of her so she did it without thinking with her almost photographic memory.
After two weeks though, and a week with the tube down her throat, they made her come to the dining room, starting her on small meals. She hated it; she hated sitting with other people who watched her eat, and even though the food wasn't terrible, she just hated everything about it.
And the thing she hated the most was that she was stuck there until she hit 100 pounds. 28 to go.
It took her till mid-April to hit 95, and by then the doctors decided she was okay to go home, as long as she stayed a day patient. Every day at 8 AM she took a cab to the day program, staying there until 2 PM, coming home and doing her homework then napping. Luckily by mid-May, she was back in school for the last few weeks of senior year, having missed almost 6 months. It killed her that she had missed vital time with her friends, but when she came back it was like nothing had happened. She knew she was the talk of the school, but every time she heard something she snapped back.
Meeting with her advisor was a good thing, though. She informed her that because of how she kept up with her work in treatment, she was on track to graduate. For the first time in awhile, Amelia smiled as she left her advisors office, heading towards her French class.
That moment led her to now, standing on the lawn in Central Park where she was getting photos taken with her family. She was still underweight, totaling at 102 pounds, and at night she still drank and took pills, but her exterior showed a healthy 18 year old girl. Her curls shone in the sunshine and she smiled brightly in each photo. As the family got ready to leave for a celebratory lunch at Seraphina, her favorite restaurant on the Upper West Side, she couldn't help but laugh as her brother Derek congratulated his baby sister on graduating, with honors.
"Yeah, Harvard better watch out," she joked, her blue eyes sparkling.
So here's the first of MANY one shots for this story! They won't always be linear (in order) but that's okay! I had inspiration for this one because I have this feeling Amelia had an eating disorder - she says that the first time she got sober she used to run 10 miles everyday and that's super disordered behavior. Anyway, read, review, tell me what you'd like to see in the next one shot! Remember, this is not just a one shot but a series of one shots - and I am not abandoning my stories! I've just a hard time writing them because I've been so sick.