Chapter 9: The Noose Tightens
"Her condition isn't something that can be fixed with group therapy sessions. She's worsening at a rapid pace and-"
"Tell me how to fix her!" Spencer interrupts irritably. His skin is flushed.
Mine is so much paler, luminescent even.
I'm thinking about how beautiful my bones finally are when the doctor, a pretty African American woman with creamy brown skin and a smile full of pearly white teeth that shine like the moon, glances over at me before speaking.
"You need professionals. I know you don't want to leave her, be away from her, but you're kind of limited on options." Her accent is like spoken music, trilling and fascinating.
Spencer gulps. "Are- are you sure she has…?"
"Anorexia? Oh, I know the signs when I see them. Look at her hair." She-despite my protests-grabs a handful of my brittle hair and yanks it. Hard.
"OW! Hey, what are you doing?" I yelp in pain. I wrench the chunk of hair out of her soft hands but not before she pulls out a few long strands.
"See? You're hair is breaking. It's dry and falling out. I can get a prescription for that, though. It will help but not solve it completely."
She turns to Spencer and fixes him with a hard accusing glare. "This is mostly your fault, you know. This has gotten way out of hand and I know you're only her brother and still pretty young yourself, but that's no excuse."
Spencer clears his throat and blinks a few times to hold back the tears that are forming at the corners of his eyes. I made Spencer cry?
"I-I know. Please Dr. Hudson, I'll do whatever it takes. Where do I-"
"Uh, let's continue this conversation in the hallway. I'm sure you don't want Carly to get too frazzled in her current state."
They step out into the hallway and pull the door shut behind them. My eyes scan the room as I take in my surroundings.
A normal doctor's office, to be expected. Spencer brought me here after I fainted and he found me lying on my bedroom floor unconscious.
Right now, I'm laying psychiatric-style across a plain white couch with my head propped up on an old musty smelling, blue and white striped pillow. The dizziness is gone. For now. But that awful feeling lingers…. The feeling like a noose has been slipped around my neck and is slowly tightening; choking me… like back in the 1900's when they hung people as punishment. Is this mine?
I hoist myself straight up and strain to hear the voices talking lowly right outside the door. Spencer and have stopped talking. I can see the shadows in front of the frosted glass.
Spencer's silhouette sags slightly. Another word or two is exchanged. Then silence.
Ana, tell me what to do. Tell me how to get out of this! Spencer is going to send me away…
No he won't.
He won't? Why?
For the same reason he hasn't gotten rid of you since your eating disorder first began.
He can't handle it. He'd miss me too much and give in to me if I begged him to let me stay. I'm not worried. Ana has reassured me. Ana's word is law, never deceiving and never wrong.
Spencer isn't strong. Not like me.
"Uh, ok. You'll need more than just a couple of T-shirts and jeans, Carls." Spencer tells me as I present him with my suitcase it had taken me all of five minutes to pack.
More than enough for two days? My stomach felt queasy. "Fine, I'll pack five shirts. Will that make you happy?
"Carly…"
"What? How long am I going to be gone, huh?" I'm still not convinced he's really going through with this. No, I'm positive he'll chicken out.
"Two and a half months. I'm sorry. Just….go pack more clothes and-never mind. I'll do it."
"Spencer, wait! Two months? This joke has gone too far!" My voice raises a few octaves. My hysterical laughter as a pathetic attempt to brush this new information off like it's no big deal sounds like a psychopath's.
I rush after Spencer who has already disappeared up the stairs and into my room. He slides my drawers open and dumps out the entire contents into the pink and black zebra striped suitcase.
"Stop, put it back!" I beg but he won't listen. He's on a roll now, flinging pairs of jeans, shorts, camisoles, and penny Ts in as well.
My room looks like a tornado hit it. Articles of leftover clothing are strewn across the floor everywhere but not for long. Spencer collects them all and adds them to the growing pile in the suitcase. Then he packs a few of my favorite books in a tote bag with the iCarly logo on it. Last year's birthday gift from Freddie.
"Spencer?" I don't know what I want to say after I get his attention. Maybe that's all I wanted.
His eyes have taken on that vacant look I hate so much.
"Say goodbye to Ana, Carly."