Ch 4 Tiny Corners
I find myself wedging my body into the tiniest corners in the house, wanting to disappear. Huddled on the cold kitchen floor, knees pulled up to my chest, arms wrapped 'round my knees. Same thing in the bathroom. My favorite is the small carpeted spot under the stairs, where the stairs slope down to meet the floor. I curl into the fetal position and wait. Wait to fade away into cells, nothingness. Wait for Bill to come and claim me again. I can hear Tara and Sam discussing me in worried tones, hushed. "Four months," I hear. "Losing too much weight," they said. Me? I can't be the one losing too much weight. I'm the size 8 on a good day. I'll never be thin. I could wear Bill's jeans. Still, each time I think I could maybe eat something, it's too much trouble to get up. I'll just curl up tighter under the stairs and nap for a bit.
