Abigail

Chapter 7

When I woke up I was alone in Alex’s bed, which meant he had gone to work. I laid there for a few minutes, just staring at the ceiling and thinking about my mental breakdown this morning. Eventually I made myself get up and use the bathroom before searching for my pants.

                I threw on some dirty ones since I couldn’t find my PJs from this morning and trudged down stairs, my stomach screaming at me to eat something. I turned towards the kitchen, figuring James is the one watching TV since he usually doesn’t work that long on the weekends.

                I stopped at the kitchen entrance and looked it over, wanting to scream at all the food taunting me. If I were home alone I probably would go on a rampage and eat everything in sight. Why not right? I’m already fat.

                Fighting back tears I forced myself towards the fridge and grabbed a water bottle, throwing the cap on the floor and chugging it. I can have water. I can have all the water that I want. But food is bad. Food is fat.

                I looked up and stared into the fridge since I forgot I was holding the door open. There was so much food that my mouth started watering. Apples and leftover pasta and a half eaten sub and yogurt and cheese and pizza and macaroni and-

                Stop Abigail! Be strong! Think skinny! Nothing taste as good as skinny feels!

                Taking deep breaths I reached forward and grabbed an apple, bringing it towards me. I examined it, thinking about the 80 calories and whether or not they’re worth it. I could easily burn it off on the treadmill, maybe even more. I have a whole week until Nick weighs me again, I can burn it off completely.

                Shaking my head from the bad thoughts, I threw the apple back in the fridge and closed it, staring at it in horror. Food is trying to ruin my life. It’s trying to make me fat and miserable. It’s trying to make me go insane.

                I turned around, ready to go back to sleep so that I couldn’t be tempted to eat. The only way I’ll stop eating is by not being home or sleeping. Or if I’m dead.

                “You hungry?” a male voice asked, making me jump back a step in surprise.

                I looked up at Zach’s smirking face and put a hand over my heart, trying to calm myself down quickly. “You scared me.”

                “I see.” Zach strode towards me, leaning against the counter in front of me and crossing his arms. “What do you want?”

                I shook my head and walked around him, “I’m not hungry.”

                “Right.” He dragged out, taking his time and following me. I sat down on the couch since my chest was still hurting and closed my eyes, praying I didn’t vomit or pass out in front of him. “I scared you that bad?”

                “No,” I assured him, opening my eyes and watching him sit way too close to me. I wasn’t going to complain, but I was definitely surprised he would want to be this close to me. “I just get chest pains a lot.”

                “Hmm.” He mumbled to himself, not saying anything else and watching whatever movie he’s watching.

                “Alex isn’t here.” I clarified, hoping he would leave now so he doesn’t have to waste his time with me. “He’s working and he won’t be back until late.”