Thin

Chapter Sixteen - Relinquish

Chapter Sixteen – Relinquish

 

The muscles in my lower back shift uncomfortably as I turn onto my side. The sorer my body gets, the more I regret the ten extra sit-ups that I added to my nightly work out late last night. The muscles feel as if they were being ripped apart, which I guess they technically are.

            With my joints as tense as they possibly can be, I pull the covers tightly up to my neck. I hug the pillow close to my chest, burying myself deeper down my mattress.  The three think layer of wool blankets aren’t enough to protect me from vigorously shaking from the cool breeze that drifted into my room. Although the mid May heat is in full swing, I can never seem to escape the chilling goose bumps. I can never get my body warm anymore.

            Despite the aching muscles and quivering, this is the most comfortable I’ve been in ages. I feel as if I could just close my eyes and sleep for an eternity; something I haven’t been getting enough of lately. It’s hard trying to sleep when my head splits open and the hunger cramps rip my body in half.

            With my body almost perfectly molded to the mattress, I’m on Cloud Nine.  I can feel my body lighten as my heart rate reduces. My eyelids flutter with the weight of the world threating to shut them. Giving in to the moment, I allow myself to receive a few moments of much needed shut eye. I’m plunged into the darkness, with my mind set on the nightmares that await me.

            Just as I feel myself let go, a voice jerks me awake.

            “Kyleigh? Honey, are you awake? I need to talk to you about something real important.”  The low octave of a man’s voice trickles through the door.

            I groan, Dad. I don’t want to get up, much less change my position. I wonder if I don’t make a sound to acknowledge that he had spoken out loud, he’ll just go away. Hopefully, he’ll just back away from my door and forget what he wanted to talk to me about.

            My heart sinks with realization as to what ad wanted to talk to me about. It had to be about the email Mrs. Sadler told me she would be sending to Dad in regards to my failing grades. I guess my plea to her that the email was unnecessary didn’t pass well with her. Dad must be so disappointed in me right now. Grades are important to him; failing marks don’t mix well with the high education dream that he envisioned for me. I bet my ignoring him is only going to make things worse.

            On the other hand, do I really care?

            So many months of trying so hard to keep up the appearance of being a perfectly perky teenager, I’m tired of it. Years of putting on concealer, carefully covering up every trace of my flaws; never letting who I really am come through.

            I’m sick of all that.

            I’m tired of all this pretend bullshit; I’m tired of living this make-believe life. I just want to show Dad the real me; all of my little power scars, the raised hipbone that I love to trace and letting Dad in on the things the demons in my head whispers.

            “Come on in, Dad.” I loudly mumble into the sheets.

            The door opens with a loud screech and Dad’s heavy feet enter the room. I feel Dad’s eyes burn silent wholes through my backside, but I turn to face him.

            He doesn’t waste time beating around the bush, “One of your teachers – your English teacher, I think – sent me an email today, Kyleigh. She said that you’ve been struggling for a while now and that you’re failing the course. You’re going to fail this grade, Kyleigh Jane. I thought you were trying with school! She said that you stopped turning in papers, homework and all her assignments weeks ago.”