Une Fleure Fanée

Week 16 Part 1 (Thursday)

     Immediately, I stumble to the bathroom to take my medicine. I'm always very religious about taking the medicine since Mom can tell if I don't. Today is an iron and Fluvox day. I take my Fluvoxamine, an iron pill, and swallow it down with some water.

     Alright, time to put on ALDC merch for the first time in two weeks. Mom has, luckily, gotten me smaller sizes of the ALDC merch so they finally fit me, but they're still baggy and don't show my form. No more safety pins!

     I put on a black ALDC sports bra under it. Hopefully, Ms. Abby will let me keep it on. I grab my water bottle and fill it up in the sink. Now it's time to start makeup. I immediately lather the scar gel onto my arms as I start my makeup.

     I don't put on foundation or eyeshadow. I just put on concealer, which is slowly starting to look more like my correct skin tone. It's almost like eating is getting my beauty back. And my life back. Eating is causing you to be fat as well, Lilliana.

     They're right. But, hopefully, I'm going to learn how to block those out again with my medicine and therapy. I finish up my makeup with eyeliner, mascara, and lip gloss, and now it's time for my hair.

     I brush it out. There are still clumps falling out, but my hair is getting stronger. Falling out less. It's getting better. Only after two weeks. This shouldn't take this long. Once I put my hair in a ponytail, I start covering up my scars.

     I'm still ashamed of them. Mom says I shouldn't be, but I don't want people to feel even more sorry for me. They already know I have anorexia since there is no other way anybody could think of for my two-week absence. Of course, they're going to use Hannah's outburst, but I'm begging that they're going to cut that part out with an interview or something.

    I'm already seeing some improvements. Some of my arm scars are fading but I can't see any improvement on my wrists. Mom had to pick up a new foundation for me because I'm so pale, so it works. I don't even have to draw the vein on.

     After forcing myself not to body-check, I can feel the pills in my stomach. I'm still adjusting to so many meds. My goal is to be off my meds by the time I graduate college, but for now, I have to deal with them. I grip the sink as a pang of dizziness and a small stomach cramp starts.

     Flashbacks go through my head of throwing up black. It's horrifying. Tears fill my eyes as I think about it, but I can't cry. I just put on makeup. I force myself to think about dancing and I get excited again.

     I take a deep breath before I go back and get my dance bag. I'm probably not dancing today but I still need to bring it. I can't go in without it. I also grab my laptop and get my binder, restocking it with unlabeled binder tabs and a bunch of notebook paper. Mom's letting me start sixth grade, starting today.

     As I start prepping all the disgusting boosts in the bags, I look at my feeding tube. I hadn't realized it until now, but that thing is going with me on national television. Mom will probably take it out for the national competition and then go back to the hospital for them to reinsert it.

     I want to hide my face so bad. I hate this feeding tube. It's uncomfortable in my nose and it's embarrassing. I look even more like a pity. I finish packing up my backpack full of food. We cut out a hole at the bottom so I can connect my food, and after double-checking for any leaks, I go out to the main room.

     "Lilly, we have to go in thirty minutes. You think you can eat your food at that time?" Mom asks.

     "I don't want to eat it!" I complain.

     "Remember our agreement," Mom sternly reminds me.

     "I have to eat all the food given to me this week that's in my meal plan, I know, I know," I repeat, reluctantly sitting down.