*Aaaww (: I love you all! You're the best readers ever! All of your positive reviews and encouragement have made me want to finish this chapter ASAP. This one is going to be Sam's memory of the first time she threw up/stopped eating. I hope you like it and aren't extremely disappointed. Don't worry, there's much more to come (: Make a great day – Ariel (: *
"Hey Sammie, are you feeling okay?" Melanie asked as Sam sat at the kitched counter, eating a huge plate of bacon, ham, eggs, sausage, grits, and orange juice to top it off. The Ultimate Breakfast.
It's been about seven or eight months since Sam's father died. It's been hard, and she still isn't over it. But today, today was going to be hard. Sam had skipped the funeral but she figured that would have been hard too. But this, she must attend. This would be the first game baseball game she had attended since her father's death.
Death can do a lot to people. It can open new doors, and ensure happiness and easy recovery. Or it can make your life fall apart and hurt you and hurt you until your down on your hands and knees. It's just how you deal with it that matters.
Sam had just dealt with it the best way she could. She didn't tell anyone and she threatened Melanie and forced her not to tell anyone either. She never cried in front of anyone and she pretended she pretended not to care about anything. She took her anger and agression out on other people, particularly Freddie, and she never talked about her feelings.
It wasn't that she was ashamed; well, not of him at least. She just had too much pride for that. She hated the thought of people feeling sorry for her. She hated that anyone would see any sign of weakness... any sign that they could hurt her in anyway. She figured if she acted happy, people would believe she was happy.
Even if she didn't believe it herself.
Months and months of hiding inside of herself and pretending that she doesn't feel pain. It's exhausting. If Carly and Freddie knew what she went through, they would sleep all of the time too.
She'd woken up early today. The first pitch is supposed to be at noon, so they had planned to go there at around eleven or eleven thirty. Melanie had burst into Sam's room at seven in the morning and tried to wake her up! Sam had kicked and yelled and pled until she agreed to let her sleep for a little while longer, suggesting she go to the store and then come back and make breakfast.
When Melanie had gotten back and made breakfast, she had marched up the stairs and forced Sam out of the bed. She had even brought a peice of bacon up with her and lured Sam downstairs.
So now Sam sat at the kitchen counter, eating her Ultimate Breakfast and listen to Melanie go on and on about her 'absolutely amazing! I mean you would love it!' boarding school. Frankly, Sam was about ready to fall asleep in her food.
As Sam was eating a heaping pile of bacon, she heard a noise on the stairs.
Her mother came down, wearing a robe and slippers. The robe was half open and Sam could see her mother was wearing checkered pajama pants and a tank top. She walked by Sam as she sat and headed straight for the fridge. She pulled out a peice of leftover pizza from yesterday and took a huge bite without even heating it up.
"Hey, mom, are you ready? Sam just needs to get dressed and we'll be ready to go," Melanie asked their mother, Pam. Pam looked at Melanie with a confused and uncaring face.
"Go where?" Pam finished off the pizza and pulled the milk out of the refridgerator.
"To... to the game," Melanie said, sounding hurt. Sam watched as they spoke, not saying anything but feeling her mother's response before the words left her mouth. She stopped eating.
"Game? I don't know what you're talking about. I'm not going to any damn game. I'm busy," Pam held the milk carton up to her mouth and took a large gulp.
"But mom, you promised!" Melanie pleaded. As Pam stared at Melanie, Sam could tell that Pam wasn't going anywhere, she was drunk and hungover and she was probably going to get drunk again as soon as she gets back to her room.
Pam hadn't always been like this. She used to be a good mother, one that had gone to work happy and come home happy. Pam had loved Sam's father and she had looked the other way everytime he had missed an event or forgotten an anniversary.
When he died though, apologies weren't needed anymore; and neither were anniversaries. After Sam and Melanie's father had passed, Pam had changed. She'd changed from the loving, supporting, and forgiving mother, into the cold, angry alcoholic she is today.
Pam had let the death affect her in a way that everyone could see. Everyone could tell that Pam had changed. The neighbors that Pam had once befriended, stopped calling and knocking on the door. Pam's boss had overlooked Pam's obviously drunk behavior. Sam's school stopped calling when Sam got in trouble. Melanie's school had stopped inviting her to school events. Pam was a differen't person now; she changed, and everyone knew it.
No one could tell that Sam had changed though.
"Look," Pam sneered looking down at her daughter, "I ain't goin to no stupid little baseball game. I have better stuff to do with my time. Besides, what do you expect me to do while we're there? Talk to you? Puh-lease. Now why don't you go color or something." She waved her hand back and forth, in the direction of the living room.
"But-" Melanie was cut off by her mother's agitated growl as she slapped the girl across the face.
Sam was watching the whole thing, now not even eating. As her mother turned away from Melanie, as if she was trash she'd thrown out last week, Sam hurriedly picked up her fork and looked down at her plate, pretending to eat.
Pam sauntered out of the room and up the stairs. Sam and Melanie listened as they heard her bedroom door close.
Sam looked over at her sister, Melanie was in tears. She had her hand on her cheek and her other hand on her heart. Sam would've thought it was so dramatic if she hadn't known how much it had hurt when Pam had first hit her.
Melanie's face was red and Sam looked at her apologetically.
"Mel..." Sam trailed off, setting her fork back down and holding her hand out to her sister. Melanie turned away.
"D-don't worry... We can just drive ourselves. Or better yet, we can take the bus or the subway. Just-just take your plate and go upstairs and get dressed. I'll figure it out." Melanie said in a voice that was meant to sound clear but had broken in spots.
Sam slowly dropped her hand. There she was, reaching out to the people she cares about and getting shut down. Again. This is why she doen't help people. Her own family is too stubborn and proud to let her in. Even Melanie, the drama queen.
Without another word, Sam picked up her plate and silently made her way out of the kitchen. Before she turned the corner into the living room (which would lead to her bedroom) she looked back at her sister and saw that she stood still in that same spot, gazing out the window with her hands still in place.
Melanie looked so much older to Sam. Today she had her hair back in a bun and she was wearing a blue, short-sleeved blouse with ruffles around the neck. She'd put on black knee length shorts and black tennis shoes.
Sam took one last look at her sister, her twin, before turning the corner and walking to her room.
Sam POV
When I got to my room, I set my plate on my dresser as I found some clothes for the day. Luckily, I had my own bathroom so everything else was already there. I laid the clothes out on my bed, picked up the plate and crossed my room to my bathroom door.
I have a few pictures on my mirror and as I walked into the bathroom and set the plate down on the counter, I looked at them. I look at the pictures a lot; there's some of me and carly, me and melanie, me and fredly, and and my mom, me and my dad, mostly everyone I love, they're all there. I keep the pictures up because ever since my dad died, I need them as a reminder as to why I keep trying and I don't just give up. So I know who's always been there. So I can see how my mom was before she fell apart, and that always reminds me of how I could become if I lose control.
For the past eight months, I've struggled so hard to keep control of my life. I've been studying and making sure I know everything on the tests, I turn in my homework and I pass my tests. I only do all this though, when I actually go to class; which I don't. I skip most of my classes, I just go off somewhere and write or look out a window or whatever. Sometimes I just can't handle it. Skipping class is a good way for me to keep control.
I looked at a picture Frednerd had taken of Carly and I. Carly was smiling waving at the camera and I was eating a piece of cake. The whole thing was almost in my mouth and just looking at it made my stomach flip.
There was Carly though, looking pretty and happy and polite. Like always. While I look like some pig let loose from the barn.
I looked at myself in the mirror. My mouth looked greasy and disgusting. My hair was messy and I really did look like I'd just woken up. I looked once more at Carly. I look nothing like her. I don't look graceful and skinny and beautiful. I look fat and boyish.
I glared at myself. Looked at my hips, which now looked to wide; and my shoulders, which looked to broad; or my stomach, which looked round and fat. Disgusting.
That's nasty. I heard a voice in the back of my head. I flinched and looked around, as if I wasn't alone and I wasn't crazy.
Jeez. Your boobs sag over your fat. There it was again. What? And what the hell is that on the plate? It makes you want to throw up.Okay what is... it... talking about? What is it?
I looked down at the plate. The delicous and moist ham, now looked huge and fattening. The plate seemed to double in size. I definitely wasn't hungry anymore. My stomach felt queezy. I leaned over the toilet and tried to throw up the queeziness but It wouldn't come up.
I picked up the plate and shoved the ham and sausage in my mouth. I chewed and swallowed. Now I knew what to do. I kept going, shoveling the grits and eggs in my mouth as fast as I could.
Shit. I forgot the orange juice. Well this isn't going to taste good.
After I had cleared the plate, I felt my stomach. Ugh.
I could still taste the food in my mouth and I knew it hadn't even made it to my stomach yet. Perfect.
I didn't think about what I did next. It was like someone else had taken over my body and forced me to choke down that huge plate of food, and I was just watching. Like I was watcing my self in a movie.
I watched myself grab my toothbrush and walk over to the toilet. I watched as I bent down over the toilet and took a deep breath, before puching the toothbrush down my throat and unloading the contents of the Ultimate Breakfast.
I woke up silently. I felt hot. Too hot, stuffy and scared. I remembered that day like it had just happened; and frankly, it scared me stiff.
I was so scared I thought I was trembling. I hate bad dreams. I calmed down after I heard something.
Breathing. That's what I heard. Breathing of someone who wasn't asleep yet. Freddie's breathing. Which means he's awake. I don't know why, but just knowing that he's awake, that he's there, calmed me down greatly. I wasn't scared knowing that he was there. Which is odd, because he's still a wimpy little nerd. But it seems like when I'm around him, bad things go away.
So I was laying there, pretending to still be asleep, and trying to go back to sleep, just listening to his even breaths. I was starting to doze off when I felt him move a little bit. I kept my eyes closed and resisted the urge to peek and see what he was doing.
And then I felt him leaning over me; looking at me. I felt him watching me. But it didn't feel wrong or awkward or insecure. It felt protective and I wanted more than anything to touch him in any way.
An then he kissed me.
On the forehead really but all I could think was, he kissed me.
"Oh Sam. If you only knew how beautiful you really are." I heard him say. Normally, I would have just ignored him and done my best to sort out my feelings of what just happened; and that's what I told myself to do.
But my body did something else. My body slowly rolled over until I had rolled into him, making it seem like I had done it sleepily. My brain and my heart were at war.
But I decided to let myself enjoy this moment. So I rested my head on him and smiled as I drifted off to sleep.