Family Matters Chapter 9/?
Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters, I only wished I could own Bosco. The only one I own is Mercedes. 'Oh my lucky stars.'
A/N: This chapter my get a little graphic.
"Mo can ya turn the heat up?" Mercedes asked me.
I look from the TV to her. She's wearin' sweats an' is wrapped up in a huge blanket. "It's up already." I say lookin' back at the TV. I don' know how she could be so cold, oh wait yeah I do; Mercedes is emaciated that's how. I don' know much 'bout eatin' disorders and all that. What I can remember is 'bout Karen Carpenter an' what happened to her. How she died from it. How she; like my baby sister had this crazy idea they were fat. Mercedes has never been fat. She's always been thin, but not like this. She started thinkin' she was fat, shortly after runnin' into our old man one day. He said somethin' bout her havin' love handles, an' how she was goin' to end up fat and ugly. If I would'a been there that day, I would'a kicked him in his mouth. So she's got this weird idea of how she looks. She can't see what everyone else sees. We see a girl who's 98lbs and dyin', she sees someone who's fat.
"How can it be 'up' it's freezin' in here." She tells me pullin' the blanket around her even more.
"Well maybe if you...." I stop there. "would eat." I finish in my head. Lookin' at her unnaturally thin appearance. I stop there an' don' say it cus' I know how it well end. A huge fight. That's how it always is, when you bring it up in front of her. She fights with ya, tells ya to go to hell, fuck off, whatever it's not good. Then the next minuet she's cryin' 'Nother thing I'm learnin' 'bout this whole eatin' disorder thing is the mood swings. One minuet she's all happy ya know, next minuet she's chewin' ya head off and spittin' back out and ya ain't got no idea why.
She looks at me an' if looks could kill. "Maybe if I what?"
"Nothin'" I quickly answer her, tryin' to avoid a fight. It scares me to, the idea of a fight 'tween Merc, and I. I'm scared there's goin' to be a big one and she'll leave an' go back to my Ma's an' - an' die.
"Uh huh, that's what I thought." She says.
I look back over at her, then get up from the couch, turnin' the heat up for. I'll sweat my balls off, but least she'll be comfortable.
"Thanks." She says with a small smile.
I reach over an' kiss the top of her head. "Don' worry 'bout it brat." I say still lookin' at her.
"What now?"
I shake my head. "Nothin'" See she doesn't see her eatin' disorder as a bad thing, she doesn't see what I see. A beautiful girl, who jus' needs some help. a beautiful girl who's nothin' but skin and bones. She's so pale, so weak. Sometimes somethin' as simple as a walk down the block takes alot for her. She has to stop and rest. She's 22 years old, she should have all the energy in the world, but sometimes she can't even walk to the corner market. She always keeps her hair in a pony tail. At one time it was long, with dark curls. Kinda like my Ma's. Now it's brittle an' alot of it tends to fall out. Her once rosey cheeks are hallow. It's so hard seein' her like this. Maybe Faith's right, maybe I should get Mercedes help, but then it would be like I'm quitin' on her, that I gave up on her. An' damn it I promised her I'd be there for her no matter what, an' I can't break that promise to her.
"I'm goin' to bed Mo. Kay, it's been a long day." She says to me standing up, then quickly sittin' back down.
"Mercedes!" I say reachin' for her.
"Mo, it's okay. I'm fine."
Another dizzy spell, she has a lot of these. If she'd jus' put some food in her stomach this wouldn't happen. "No Mercedes, it's not okay." I take her her face an' hold it in my hands. "No it's not okay." I say again, tears wellin' up in my eyes. "God Mercedes, this has gotta stop. I can't stand it anymore. Ya killin' me with this. I'm worried sick."
She moves away from me. "Why?" She asks like she doesn't know. "Why ya so damn worried Mo?"
"Because I'm afraid one day I'm goin' to come home from work and find ya dead on the livin' room floor."
"For Christ Sakes Mo! Would ya knock it off with all this dyin' shit. I ain't goin' to die. I know what I'm doin' there ain't nothin' wrong with me!" She pushes me away and stands up.
I pull her back down to the couch by her arm. I lift up her shirt a little bit. "Ain't nothin' wrong with you? What are ya blind. Look at yourself, ya look like one of the kids from the Sally Struthers Commercial." A tear falls down my cheek. My sister closes her eyes. She hates seein' me cry almost as much as I hate seein' her cry.
"Mo, your makin' a big deal out of nothin'" She speaks slowly not lookin' at me.
"It's not nothin'. It's somethin' a big somethin'. I don' want my baby sister to die. I've only got one, and I can't replace her if she - if you - if you die." I look at her. "You can die from this, you can die from anorexia Mercedes, people have died before, an' ya ain't any different from any of these other girls. who have the same things and died. You say ya can handle this, ya say it's no big deal. Well when I have to call Ma and say her baby girl is dead, that's goin' to be a big deal."
"ARGH! Do you have to be such a damn know-it-all Mo? Huh? I'm not some perp on the street or nothin' I'm not some hooker ya think ya can turn around and make better. 'Side what the -hell- do ya know 'bout anorexia anyways' what ya pick up the latest copy of 'People Magazine' and now ya know everything there is to know 'bout anorexia. I told ya before Mo, I know what I'm doin' now jus' leave me the fuck alone! " She stands up and walks off the the bedroom stoppin' in the hallway. "So what if I die? Jus' mean ya gotta find someone else to ride in on your white horse and save. Not like any would even notice." She says walking into the room and slammin' the door.
"So what if ya die?" I say to myself. "I'd notice and my heart would die right with you." I lean back on the couch and cry silently. "You dyin' thats my worst nightmare."
Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters, I only wished I could own Bosco. The only one I own is Mercedes. 'Oh my lucky stars.'
A/N: This chapter my get a little graphic.
"Mo can ya turn the heat up?" Mercedes asked me.
I look from the TV to her. She's wearin' sweats an' is wrapped up in a huge blanket. "It's up already." I say lookin' back at the TV. I don' know how she could be so cold, oh wait yeah I do; Mercedes is emaciated that's how. I don' know much 'bout eatin' disorders and all that. What I can remember is 'bout Karen Carpenter an' what happened to her. How she died from it. How she; like my baby sister had this crazy idea they were fat. Mercedes has never been fat. She's always been thin, but not like this. She started thinkin' she was fat, shortly after runnin' into our old man one day. He said somethin' bout her havin' love handles, an' how she was goin' to end up fat and ugly. If I would'a been there that day, I would'a kicked him in his mouth. So she's got this weird idea of how she looks. She can't see what everyone else sees. We see a girl who's 98lbs and dyin', she sees someone who's fat.
"How can it be 'up' it's freezin' in here." She tells me pullin' the blanket around her even more.
"Well maybe if you...." I stop there. "would eat." I finish in my head. Lookin' at her unnaturally thin appearance. I stop there an' don' say it cus' I know how it well end. A huge fight. That's how it always is, when you bring it up in front of her. She fights with ya, tells ya to go to hell, fuck off, whatever it's not good. Then the next minuet she's cryin' 'Nother thing I'm learnin' 'bout this whole eatin' disorder thing is the mood swings. One minuet she's all happy ya know, next minuet she's chewin' ya head off and spittin' back out and ya ain't got no idea why.
She looks at me an' if looks could kill. "Maybe if I what?"
"Nothin'" I quickly answer her, tryin' to avoid a fight. It scares me to, the idea of a fight 'tween Merc, and I. I'm scared there's goin' to be a big one and she'll leave an' go back to my Ma's an' - an' die.
"Uh huh, that's what I thought." She says.
I look back over at her, then get up from the couch, turnin' the heat up for. I'll sweat my balls off, but least she'll be comfortable.
"Thanks." She says with a small smile.
I reach over an' kiss the top of her head. "Don' worry 'bout it brat." I say still lookin' at her.
"What now?"
I shake my head. "Nothin'" See she doesn't see her eatin' disorder as a bad thing, she doesn't see what I see. A beautiful girl, who jus' needs some help. a beautiful girl who's nothin' but skin and bones. She's so pale, so weak. Sometimes somethin' as simple as a walk down the block takes alot for her. She has to stop and rest. She's 22 years old, she should have all the energy in the world, but sometimes she can't even walk to the corner market. She always keeps her hair in a pony tail. At one time it was long, with dark curls. Kinda like my Ma's. Now it's brittle an' alot of it tends to fall out. Her once rosey cheeks are hallow. It's so hard seein' her like this. Maybe Faith's right, maybe I should get Mercedes help, but then it would be like I'm quitin' on her, that I gave up on her. An' damn it I promised her I'd be there for her no matter what, an' I can't break that promise to her.
"I'm goin' to bed Mo. Kay, it's been a long day." She says to me standing up, then quickly sittin' back down.
"Mercedes!" I say reachin' for her.
"Mo, it's okay. I'm fine."
Another dizzy spell, she has a lot of these. If she'd jus' put some food in her stomach this wouldn't happen. "No Mercedes, it's not okay." I take her her face an' hold it in my hands. "No it's not okay." I say again, tears wellin' up in my eyes. "God Mercedes, this has gotta stop. I can't stand it anymore. Ya killin' me with this. I'm worried sick."
She moves away from me. "Why?" She asks like she doesn't know. "Why ya so damn worried Mo?"
"Because I'm afraid one day I'm goin' to come home from work and find ya dead on the livin' room floor."
"For Christ Sakes Mo! Would ya knock it off with all this dyin' shit. I ain't goin' to die. I know what I'm doin' there ain't nothin' wrong with me!" She pushes me away and stands up.
I pull her back down to the couch by her arm. I lift up her shirt a little bit. "Ain't nothin' wrong with you? What are ya blind. Look at yourself, ya look like one of the kids from the Sally Struthers Commercial." A tear falls down my cheek. My sister closes her eyes. She hates seein' me cry almost as much as I hate seein' her cry.
"Mo, your makin' a big deal out of nothin'" She speaks slowly not lookin' at me.
"It's not nothin'. It's somethin' a big somethin'. I don' want my baby sister to die. I've only got one, and I can't replace her if she - if you - if you die." I look at her. "You can die from this, you can die from anorexia Mercedes, people have died before, an' ya ain't any different from any of these other girls. who have the same things and died. You say ya can handle this, ya say it's no big deal. Well when I have to call Ma and say her baby girl is dead, that's goin' to be a big deal."
"ARGH! Do you have to be such a damn know-it-all Mo? Huh? I'm not some perp on the street or nothin' I'm not some hooker ya think ya can turn around and make better. 'Side what the -hell- do ya know 'bout anorexia anyways' what ya pick up the latest copy of 'People Magazine' and now ya know everything there is to know 'bout anorexia. I told ya before Mo, I know what I'm doin' now jus' leave me the fuck alone! " She stands up and walks off the the bedroom stoppin' in the hallway. "So what if I die? Jus' mean ya gotta find someone else to ride in on your white horse and save. Not like any would even notice." She says walking into the room and slammin' the door.
"So what if ya die?" I say to myself. "I'd notice and my heart would die right with you." I lean back on the couch and cry silently. "You dyin' thats my worst nightmare."