Chapter Three
Zombie
Kelsey
Three weeks have passed. Three weeks where Bella has hardly moved from her bedroom. She's only occasionally eating, and looks like something out a zombie apocalypse movie.
I sit with Dad when I can, talking about nothing and everything. I drag him out to the one Italian restaurant in Forks. I hunt with him and Harry Clearwater. I fish with him and Billy Black. I do my best to distract him as much as possible, even at the expense of my own sanity (Billy Black's stories get boring after awhile and I hate fishing.)
September slowly creeps into October. I make Dad decorate the house for Halloween with me. We go all out, even having a pumpkin carving contest. Of course, Bella doesn't join in. The selfish bitch isn't thinking about anyone but herself.
I awake to the creaking of the floorboards above me. I know it's Dad, up after one of Bella's nightmares. He's probably pacing the floor like he does when he's anxious about something.
I roll out of bed and make my way up the stairs to the living room. "Da?" He stops and turns to me.
"Kelsey? What are you doing up? You didn't have a nightmare too, did you?"
"No, Dad. Couldn't sleep." I lie.
I make my way into the kitchen and begin making sugar-free hot chocolate. I top mine off with some marshmallows and cinnamon. Dad takes his plain.
A lot of people assume that because I have diabetes I can't have sugar. That's a lie, though. As long as I cover the amount of carbohydrates I eat with insulin (take a bolus), I can eat whatever I want. I also have insulin going through my pump at all times, (basal insulin.)
I have to check my blood sugar with a glucose meter when I'm waiting for my CGM to warm up or when I'm not sure the DexCom is accurate. My DexCom CGM (continuous glucose monitor) shows my blood sugar every five minutes. It's a little wire that sits under the skin and it transmits the sugar readings to my phone. I change out the site every ten days and then wait two hours for it to warm up.
Anyways, enough diabetes talk. All you need to know is that my type 1 diabetes doesn't stop me from eating anything I want to. Or drinking hot chocolate, although I drink sugar-free so my glucose (sugar) won't spike crazy high.
I hand Dad his and we sit in front of the TV in comfortable silence. I find a rerun of Survivor, which Dad and I watch religiously. Even the reruns are still fun.
I enter Bella's room the next day to hunt down one of my sweatshirts. And OMG! The room smells like somebody died in here.
"Who died?" I ask, waving my hand in front of my face. Bella doesn't answer me.
I decide not to risk the smell triggering an asthma attack and back out of the room. The sweatshirt isn't as important as getting away from the smell. Not that surprises me; Bella's only showered once a week since Edward left.
Dad threatened to send her back to Florida today. Bella went full bitch mode and starting throwing things around her room while screaming that they can't make her leave. I stay well clear of the destruction.
After awhile, Bella finally snaps out of catatonic mode. She gets up, gets a shower (hallelujah), and actually goes back to school. But instead of being like a corpse, Bella has transformed into a zombie.
She always has a blank look on her face. The lights are on, but nobody's home. She eats enough not to starve to death and goes to school, but doesn't do her assignments.
I help Dad cook Thanksgiving dinner, and he invites the Blacks over. Bella ctually makes an appearance, but she mostly pushes the food around her plate. But she does do the dishes, so progress?
Or not. The day after, she's even more listless than usual. I convince Dad to go Black Friday shopping with me in Port Angeles. I don't actually like shopping, but it's an excuse to get Dad out of the house.
We decorate for Christmas early. We lug the boxes of Christmas ornaments and the fake Christmas tree down from the atic. I wrap the lights around the tree while Dad handles the ornaments (dust triggers my asthma) and tells me where each came from.
"Grandma Swan gave me this one." Dad holds up a snowglobe ornament. "Back when your mother and I got married."
I've heard the stories a hundred times, but I still like to hear them. It's a family tradition from when I would fly up here and spend every other Christmas with him.
"You know, Kels, I think this is our finest work yet." Dad beams as he wraps an arm around me. I smile.
"Sure is. Hang on, I wanna picture." I snap the photo and post it to my Instagram.
Dad seems super happy. That is, until Bella comes downstairs and doesn't even notice the tree. Selfish bitch.
I challenge Dad to a gingerbread house decorating contest next. We laugh as we decorate the houses, talking about past Christmases.
"Remember that time we had that snowball fight?"
"Yeah. How about the time when you tried to stay up until Santa came?"
"I was five!"
"Hey, dad," I say as I add the last gumdrop to the roof of my house, "just so you know, you have a huge glop of frosting on your nose."
"I'm saving it for later." he quips, making a huge show of attempting to lick his nose. I bust out laughing.
We have a Christmas cookie bakeoff that ends in a huge flour war. I started it, as it seemed that Dad was getting down again. I'd dipped my hand in the bag and thrown flour in his face.
"Well," I say, giggling as I take in the mess, "let it snow."
"Wow, Kels, are you fifty already? You have white hair." Dad jokes back.
And even though Bella's being a selfish bitch, we manage to have a great Christmas and New Year. I'm able to keep Dad so busy he noesn't have time to stare at a wall and worry. And I do threaten Bella that I'll scoop her eyeballs out with a rusty spoon if she doesn't go downstairs and act like she's better, at least for Christmas. Not quite sisterly love, but hey, what Dad doesn't know won't hurt him.
A/n: Hey, y'all! I am feeling the love, you guys! So many follows and favorites. I'm glad y'all seem to be loving the story so much! Please review; they brighten my days and encourage me to keep writing. Thanks! Later!
Lauren.
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