This is a spin-off of several works I have completed or are currently underway.
This series of short stories will follow a few of my characters through the rehabilitation process until they have their moment of clarity.
Some issues dealt with in thi...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I woke up in a hospital room.
Much like the last time I'd fainted, there was a heart monitor in the background, keeping track of my heartbeat. There was an IV in my arm, and I had a saline taste in my mouth.
I felt a hand on mine, and my eyes travelled over to see both of my parents.
"Mom? Dad?"
My mom kissed the back of my hand before softly caressing it. "Hi, Emily."
My dad leaned over, brushing the hair off of my forehead before lightly kissing it.
The action took me by surprise, and all I could do was stare at the two them.
Why were they here?
"How are you feeling?" mom asked.
I glanced around the room once again. "What happened?"
Before she could answer, the door swung open, and Dr. Pulitz walked in.
"Well good morning to our star patient."
I didn't say anything as he did his checks. He read my heart monitor, took my blood pressure, and tapped the IV bag a few times for reasons I'm unsure of.
"Why am I here?" I asked. "What happened?"
He took a seat in the rolling chair, extending his legs out in front of him. "Malnutrition."
My eyebrows creased in confusion. But I wasn't hungry.
"Isn't that what we're paying you to take care of?" dad demanded.
Dr. Pulitz raised his hand. "Let's try to avoid from raising our voices here."
My dad let out an irritated sigh, but he didn't continue with his tirade.
That was a first.
"Emily has been showing signs of improvement," Dr. Pulitz informed my parents. "She has been interacting with the other patients, she's received raving reviews from our Art Therapist, Genevieve, and she has also been showing signs of improvement in individual therapy."
I have?
"So how did this happen then?" mom asked, her voice thick. "What went wrong?"
"Emily's eating patterns are still abnormal," Dr. Pulitz said. "We have been trying to let her come to terms with the diagnosis on her own."
What? That I'm Anorexic?
That's bullshit.
"By letting her starve herself to death?" mom demanded.
Dr. Pulitz let out a sigh. "Unfortunately, these methods are tricky. There's no solve-all answer here."
I could tell my dad wanted to say something, but I jumped in before he had the chance.
