William
With a griamace, I stare at the food in a bowl, pushing it around with my spoon.
I've only been here for a day and I was already dreading it. After a long talk with my parents, they confirmed that I will be staying in the hospital until I looked healthier and was better.
I was malnourished and supposedly looked sick. I refused to look at myself whenever I went to the bathroom or when I was on my phone, so I wouldn't know.
It was morning and a nurse gave me breakfast. It was a bowl of yogurt with blueberries and gronola, an over generous amount of everything in it. A small cup of orange juice was on the side, but I didn't plan on drinking it.
A doctor diagnosed me as anorexic after taking multiple vital test. She also said I was bullimic after asking me a series of blunt questions. I didn't like the idea of having eating disorders, so I felt awful whenever she told me.
I eyed the parfait bowl, upset that I was being forced to eat so early in the morning. Nicholas left last night after I "ate" dinner and told me he'd come this morning around 9.
It was 8:30 and I didn't have much of an appetite this early, but the nurses didn't care when I tried to reason with them to let me eat later in the morning.
Lucille was sitting on couch, flipping through channels on the TV, sipping on coffee since she wasn't allowed to eat in here. My parents were eating breakfast in the cafeteria and Lucille stayed to keep me company while I attempted to eat breakfast.
She frowns, "are you not hungry?" I gave her a look. "Eat a few bites, please. For me?"
I scowl, "I'm not hungry. It's too early." My sister sighs in defeat as I mixed around the yogurt and berries. I felt nauseous at the thought of eating.
I didn't know how low my weight was, I refused to look at it when they weighed me. But by the sad look on my parents face and the gasp from Nicholas, I knew it was good.
Probably because of how high it was, fat bitch.
I push away the bowl, studying the juice. I felt weak because I hardly touched any of the food given to me yesterday. Everything was low, my sugar, heart rate, cholesterol, iron, the list goes on.
I take a sip of juice, the sugar, cold liquid slipping into the emptiness of my stomach, teasing me.
The door opens and I snap my head towards it, hoping it was the bitchy nurse who was making my eat. I smile at the sight of my boyfriend.
"Hey." He greeted, sitting in the chair next to my bed, the same one he was in yesterday. His eyes wondered to my full bowl, "have you eaten any of it?"
I shake my head, "I'm not that hungry. It's too early and I'm sleepy." Nicholas nodded, kissing my temple softly. "How was your night?"
He shrugs, "okay, I guess. I was really worried about you after I left, so I didn't really sleep well. But it's okay." A ping of guilt hit me and Nick noticed. "How'd you sleep?"
"Like a baby." I sarcastically mumbled, poking the hard matress. "This was more comfortable yesterday morning than it was last night." He chuckles, rubbing at my hand, his face falling into a frown. "I'm sorry."
Nick furrows his brows, "what for?"
"Worrying you." I mutter, sighing guilty. "You shouldn't be worrying."
He didn't reply because we both know what he would say. He just kissed my hand before nodding towards the bowl. "Can you eat a bite or two, please? It would stop me from worrying so much."
