Young Annabelle Series: Young Annabelle, the Truth About James, What My Heart Wants by Sarah Tork Read Free Book Online
Authors: Sarah Tork
into a relationship?
Stalker psycho!
Oh God no!
I burst out laughing and gazed up a t the blank ceiling. Sometimes I wished my parents would have let me paint mine just like Jenna’s, but at this moment the empty ceiling served as a blank slate on which I would paint with my newly-spiked imagination.
*~*~*
Knock. Knock.
“It’s open,” I called out happily, my hands behind my head as I continued to stare at the ceiling. I was in the middle of a wonderful story on my ceiling. It was just getting good.
Charles, my thirteen-year-old brother, came barging in. “Dinner’s ready!” He turned right back around and left, leaving the door wide open.
Dinner’s ready! Am I even hungry? I thought as I got off my bed and headed out. My stomach began to grumble loudly, apparently I was hungry. And like a crash of lightning blowing up the tree that gave me life, it all came back.
Mom!
She wasn’t happy with my calorie burn today and I didn’t burn those extra fifty she’d wanted when I came home. I would have to brace myself for a battle during dinner tonight.
As I descended the stairs, I smelled tomato sauce and garlic bread. They had made pasta, my favorite!
I paused mid-step.
They’re so evil!
The chances that I’d be getting almost none of one of my favorite meals were extremely high. Strangely, I was handling this realization differently than usual. I was happy, and I knew if this had happened yesterday I would have been devastated.
So I won’t get to eat a plate full of my favorite meal. So what!
Yeah, so what, I thought as I continued down the stairs and into the dining room. I stopped in front of the table at my usual seat, stunned. Mine was the only plate with just salad on it.
Gee, thanks Mom, I know I can always count on you.
I smiled at her, although I knew it didn’t reach my eyes. Oblivious as she was, she smiled back genuinely. The woman believed with all her heart that she was doing her rightful duty as a mother, keeping the evil words of the teenage world from tearing up my soul because I was bigger than my average classmate.
Damn you Florida and your perfect weather making everyone want to have gorgeous beach bodies all year long!
I quietly sat in my chair and stabbed a 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 have been happy. My brother and sister didn’t give a crap, 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.
I t 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 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 I did, 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
Stalker psycho!
Oh God no!
I burst out laughing and gazed up a t the blank ceiling. Sometimes I wished my parents would have let me paint mine just like Jenna’s, but at this moment the empty ceiling served as a blank slate on which I would paint with my newly-spiked imagination.
*~*~*
Knock. Knock.
“It’s open,” I called out happily, my hands behind my head as I continued to stare at the ceiling. I was in the middle of a wonderful story on my ceiling. It was just getting good.
Charles, my thirteen-year-old brother, came barging in. “Dinner’s ready!” He turned right back around and left, leaving the door wide open.
Dinner’s ready! Am I even hungry? I thought as I got off my bed and headed out. My stomach began to grumble loudly, apparently I was hungry. And like a crash of lightning blowing up the tree that gave me life, it all came back.
Mom!
She wasn’t happy with my calorie burn today and I didn’t burn those extra fifty she’d wanted when I came home. I would have to brace myself for a battle during dinner tonight.
As I descended the stairs, I smelled tomato sauce and garlic bread. They had made pasta, my favorite!
I paused mid-step.
They’re so evil!
The chances that I’d be getting almost none of one of my favorite meals were extremely high. Strangely, I was handling this realization differently than usual. I was happy, and I knew if this had happened yesterday I would have been devastated.
So I won’t get to eat a plate full of my favorite meal. So what!
Yeah, so what, I thought as I continued down the stairs and into the dining room. I stopped in front of the table at my usual seat, stunned. Mine was the only plate with just salad on it.
Gee, thanks Mom, I know I can always count on you.
I smiled at her, although I knew it didn’t reach my eyes. Oblivious as she was, she smiled back genuinely. The woman believed with all her heart that she was doing her rightful duty as a mother, keeping the evil words of the teenage world from tearing up my soul because I was bigger than my average classmate.
Damn you Florida and your perfect weather making everyone want to have gorgeous beach bodies all year long!
I quietly sat in my chair and stabbed a 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 have been happy. My brother and sister didn’t give a crap, 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.
I t 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 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 I did, 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
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