perfection, michael clifford

━━ CHAPTER THREE

"BITCHY STEP MOM."

━━ juliette scott
june twenty-first. ━━

"so how and when did this start?" michael asks, taking off his glasses and setting them off to the side. "you told me this started a year ago?"

"yep," i shrugged. "almost a year ago, anniversary coming up. isn't my bitch of a step mom supposed to tell you these things?"

"firstly, don't refer to her as a bitch, and second, no she didn't." i answer his statement with a slightly annoyed scoff.

"she never did care." i laugh pathetically.

"you should've truly listened to them trying to help. i reckon they were seriously trying to help." he scrunched his nose.

"you don't supposed that, shoving food down my throat physically and sending me to some creepy facility is going to help me?" i raise an eyebrow.

"they're trying to help."

"oh my god! dude, yeah! i guess i'll just start eating three meals a day, fuck you've cured me!" i say, sarcastically. "it's not that easy."

"i didn't mean it like that, juliette." he tells me, crossing his arms. "what happened?"

"do you see everyone? do you see what the beauty standards are for this world? how do i live up to it? how am i supposed to go to school everyday, go on instagram everyday, see the prettiest girls and not feel a little insecure."

"what do you mean?"

"i stopped eating. i didn't want to become ugly, i didn't want to be judged. and one day, the doctor said i was fifteen pounds underweight."

"and what happened next?"

"my parents made me eat. they practically shoved breakfast, lunch and dinner all down my throat thinking it would help." i shake my head. "spoiler alert, it didn't. because every time i would puke it all back up."

"how did you find out you were coming here?"

"i didn't. they were acting weird the whole week, yeah, but i never thought that after what happened between me and my dad that he would ever send me here." i shrug.

"three months." he says suddenly, confusing me.

"what?"

"you're here for three more months."

i throw my head back in major frustration, wanting to rip my eyes out. "i want to go fucking home."

"you will, i promise." michael frowns to me, handing me a lifesaver. "here."

i slowly take it and put it in my mouth, getting up from the chair as michael did.

"alright, i will see you tomorrow at two." he smiled, "don't forget it."

i don't respond and just walked out of his office, into the hallway of teenagers and younger looking kids getting treatment or talking amongst themselves.

poor everyone.

i walk down the hallway and end up in a place with soft couches. i sit down, and suddenly a girl comes up to me.

"hi!" she smiles brightly. "my name is carla."

"oh, hi." i smile a little. "my name is juliette."

"nice to meet you! are you new? i've never seen you around before." she takes a seat next to me, a smile never leaving her mouth.

"ah yes, i happen to be the new one." i chuckle.

silence fills the room until she speaks up again, "tell me about yourself!"

"oh, i'm fifteen, sixteen next thursday." i smile weakly. "my dad and stepmom sent me here."

"oh yeah mine too— well, both of my parents sent me here."

"what happened, if you don't mind me asking?"

"a stupid reason, really." she laughs. "they sent me here because i accidentally hurt my brother. and i don't mean in a murderous way, i genuinely didn't mean it. he fell off his bike when i walked past him, and my parents now think i'm crazy, this place will take anyone."

"oh damn. i'm so sorry." i frown for the girl, a small part of me genuinely feeling bad for carla.

"ah its fine. what about you?"

"i have an eating disorder that i am in the process of recovering from, and my two guardians think im going to die or something so they sent me here." i shrug, feeling a tad sad for myself as well.

"parents can be brutal."

"yes, they can."