Young Annabelle by Sarah Tork Read Free Book Online Page B

piece
of lettuce with my fork.
    “Oh joy,” I muttered, tasting the balsamic
vinegar dressing.
    *****
     
    If I went to bed with a stomach full of
salad, my parents would be happy. My brother and sister didn’t give
a shit, they only joined in on raining on my parade when it was a
family affair. They liked doing things ‘as a family’; it was kind
of understandable, in a sadistic sort of way.
    But salad wasn’t enough to satisfy my stomach
entirely, nor did it stop the pains stabbing through me while I was
trying to sleep.
    Salad wasn’t enough.
    So it was the usual routine. Wait for
everyone to go to sleep, then take out my secret stash of candy
bars and chips from beneath my bed frame. The calories would cost
me; it was an extra 300 that my stomach needed to push away hunger
pains until morning or else I’d have to endure another sleepless
night. My parents would be none the wiser in the morning because I
didn’t log those calories in my food diary or my mother’s food
diary (she liked to keep her own diary for me). The only time they
would become puzzled and frustrated would be on Monday, weigh-in
day, and so far my weight loss had been slow.
    A pound a week was slow. I was 175 pounds
when we started this torture a month and half ago, now I was 167. I
was setting a horrible example for Katherine. At eleven, she was
skinny and a dancer, but who knew what bad habits she might be
learning from me. She could begin to gain weight in high school
like me, and it would be my fault for waiting until now to lose the
weight, and for doing it at a snail’s pace.
    I finished my snacks and tucked wrappers back
into the bag; I’d take care of them in the morning. I would need to
restock tomorrow. Thank God junk food was cheap. I wiped any
remnants of evil food from my face and lay down on my bed. The full
moon peered in through the slit in my window shade, highlighting
the clutter in my room while dancing on my ceiling.
    I gazed up and imagined familiar angry faces
shouting empty threats at me. I did this as a way to prepare for
the scolding I would inevitably receive; my worst moment was
crumbling into tears because I couldn’t take their bullshit
anymore.
    Jesus, Annabelle! How can you be so
selfish?
    Move faster!
    Chin up! Chest straight! Ass tucked in!
    Have some respect for yourself!
    You’re fat, sweetheart. We’re just trying to
be honest.
    Then why are we all fit and you’re not?
Don’t you want to be a part of this family?
    I can’t believe this happened to you.
    I bought you a pair of jeans, but they’re a
size 8.
    Do you want to be bullied for the rest of
high school? How come you don’t go to parties?
    I don’t tell people you’re my sister when
you come to my recitals.
    You want to eat freely? You do
it in smaller jeans! That was enough for one night. I turned on my side and fell to
asleep.
    *****
     
    My eyes fluttered open with sprinkles of
fairy dust blowing out. My entire room was filled with bright
sunshine that smelled of butter. Baby pink, blue, and violet
cupcake butterflies flew playfully in the sunshine. They giggled
softly as they bumped into one another, their icing making
polka-dots on each other. I stared at them in glee as, one by one,
they flitted around me, outlining my body. Then, simultaneously,
their joyous humming filled the room and 3-dimensional music notes
bounced off everything. One hit my forehead and I laughed as I
swept it away.
    “ANNABELLE!”
    There was only one piece of artillery left in
this world that could have broken that happy bubble: my mother’s
screeching voice.
    It was amazing, as I rode my bike to work I
felt a new strangeness inside. The early morning sunshine hadn’t
heated up yet so it lazily caressed my back. It was nice, peaceful.
I stopped at the top of the hill, the wind leaving my hair as I
paused. I’d been pedaling pretty fast and there might have been a
good reason to get to work early today…
    Nervous, I pulled my feet back onto the
pedals and