29.

4.7K 182 257
                                    

Trigger warning - Eating disorder & abuse. 

Aary's POV

   Christmas, 1995

     I knock on the door for the third time and still don't get a response. The only thing I can hear is my dad giving Harry his daily motivational speech.

                 "You're not a bad person-"

       "I hate to interrupt," I barge in. "But can we talk for a second please?"

      My dad gives me an aggravated look. "Aaryana, I'm in the middle of something right now."

                 "I just wanted to give you your Christmas gift." I scoff.

                           "And it can't wait?"

       I run my fingers through my hair and sigh. "I've been waiting for hours, dad. We've barely spoken today and it's fucking Christmas-"

              "Don't use that language in my house!" My dad shouts.

        I feel my eyes grow big in shock. He never used to raise his voice, especially not at me.

          "Forget it," I drop his gift onto the floor beside his feet. "Happy Christmas you two."

       Part of me thinks he'll come running after me so I wait outside the doorway, but Harry and my dad just go back to their conversation.

        "I'm sorry about her," He says to Harry. "Hopefully someday she can learn to accept that you are part of the family now."

                          ~             ~             ~

             "Aary, please come out." Malory begs.

      I lift my head from the toilet seat and glance at the clock; it's probably dark by now. I can't remember what time I came in here, it was sometime after supper. Malory made a really nice dish that on a normal day I could pass on. I've gotten really good at that, declining food. But today I just didn't feel like it.

                 Malory bangs her fist on the door again. "Please."

        And now my meal is in the toilet bowl in front of me. That doesn't make sense to you? It's okay, it doesn't make much sense to me either.

         Once I get back on my feet I flush the toilet and brush myself off. My legs feel like jello from sitting for that long. I run my hands under water, then wipe my mouth and hands with one of the Egyptian cotton towels I got my dad for Christmas.

        "Bloody hell, Aary." Malory sighs when I open the door. "You can't just do that."

        Before I can respond, Malory looks over at the toilet still flushing. She's smarter than most people, I see the realization hit her. And when it does for some reason the numbness in me fades and I feel water well up in my eyes. A tear falls onto Malory's cheek as she pulls me in for a hug.

                       "Do you think he misses me?" I cry.

        "Of course he does," Malory tells me. "Your dad loved you so much. I know he wasn't the best at showing it but he really did."

The Deeper you Dig, The Darker it GetsWhere stories live. Discover now