Paper Thin

• 94: Half-Truth •

Melody

My chest seemed to squeeze uncomfortably as I stared at the bottle of appetite suppressants in Carson's hand. He glared at the bottle as he read off the side effects.

"Increased heart rate and blood pressure, insomnia, headache, dry mouth, constipation, vomiting, nausea, dizziness... Christ, Melody, why do you have these?" Carson asked. His voice was softer than before, but I could still hear a hard edge to it.

"I-I–" I stuttered, grasping at a half true explanation.

"I just want the truth," he said. I pressed my lips together and Carson stared at the bottle. "Vomiting, nausea, dizziness.... vomiting, nausea, dizziness... have you been taking these?"

I could feel tears welling up my eyes as my heart hammered against my rib cage. I blinked them away but didn't know how he wanted me to respond. I didn't know how I wanted to respond. All I could make sense of was the fact that there was an overwhelming urge to go and get them and once I did, I felt better. How could I explain that all I saw was fat and anything I could do to change it was fair game? How could I tell him that without making him want to walk away and never look back?

You can't.

Carson searched my face and found his answer there.

"These are so dangerous and unhealthy." Carson said. "Why?" I stared down at the table, letting my hair curtain my face as a few spare tears rolled off the tip of my nose. Carson sighed, thought it was slight, I could hear his breath shake. "Did Margot make you take them?"

"Margot doesn't make me do anything but overeat and feel bad about it afterwards," I muttered, glaring at my teardrops against the wood.

"And you felt bad enough to take them?" Carson asked hesitantly.

"It's been a few days, it's not a big deal."

"It is a big deal!" Carson insisted. I glanced at him then, seeing worry written across his face like words on a chalkboard. It was then that I settled on a half-truth; one that he could wrap his mind around. One that would hurt less.

"It's not!" I replied. "I just thought...it would help with modelling."

"Modelling? But you're doing so well!" Carson said.

"I could be doing better. They always want someone who's perfect and I thought they might help." The half-truth. They wanted the skinny girls and I was not one of them.

"You don't need these Mellie; you're perfect," Carson said, standing up. He opened up the bottle of appetite suppressants, as he walked over to the garbage.

"What are you– Carson don't you dare!" I stood up and watched as he emptied out the diet pills into the garbage. A light thud let me know their plastic container had joined them in the trash. A few more tears travelled down my face and brushed them away angrily. "Why would you do that?"

I sat down in my chair, still fuming from the loss of my appetite suppressants. Carson walked over to me and reached for my hand, but I pulled away from him slightly. I didn't miss the hurt expression on his face before he replaced it with a small smile. It made me want to kick myself. All I did was make a mess of things.

"You don't need to be taking diet pills or anything dangerous like that," he said, sitting down and leaning towards me. He gently wiped the tears off my cheeks with his thumbs. "You are beautiful." My head was already shaking in disagreement before the words were fully out of his mouth. "I mean it Melody; you are beautiful and I just want you to be healthy."

What I couldn't bring myself to say was that I didn't care about being healthy. I cared about being pretty. I cared about being perfect. Though Carson told me I was, I never saw what he saw, and my body recoiled from the idea of me being worthy of being described as beautiful.