Skeletal Prison

Chapter Three

Waking up this morning was easy, easy because I knew that I was going home, easy because I knew that I could be myself again. But yet I was also scared, scared of what it was going to be like to be home, scared of if I will fall back into her hands, scared of what to expect. 

“Tessa, your parents will be here in 20 minutes.” Cathy said as I changed out of my pajamas, stuffed them into my suitcase and slipped on my favorite jeans and just a plain black tee shirt that was still baggy on me, even though I was pumped full of high calorie and high fattening foods and god knows what else. I felt discussing. But I knew that if I told them that, any chance at my freedom would be crushed right then and there. 

“Okay.” I said as I zipped everything up and handed it to the orderly to take out to by the doors. Looking around the bare room, I knew that maybe today, maybe tomorrow, maybe next week another girl that is being forced against her will, will be living in this room. She will fight the food at first, then she will fake it, and finally she will just give in, play happy, and then go home and go right back to how she was before. 

Like my therapist always told me, you can never under estimate the power of his disease. 

Following her down the wood stairs, I just looked into the kitchen, the girls were being watched as they ate, but a lot of them looked up when I passed by. I was eating breakfast with Cathy in her office, my parents where on their way, and I knew that for the next 30 to 45 minutes she was going to go on about how I did here, my medication schedule - even though my mom is a doctor - and my nutrition list. I knew that going home was not going to mean that this place never happened, but yet I knew that going home meant that I was no longer going to be watched like a jew at a Concentration camp.

“Come on Tessa, your parents got here early.” She said in a cheerful voice as she patted my shoulder, leading me into her office. It was a calm day outside, the wind was not blowing the tree’s were starting to turn colors. 

Walking into her office, I saw the back of my mom’s head as she looked over the medication list and my dad just looking at the diplomas’s on her wall. Sitting down between them, I could feel all eyes go on me. In a way, I hated it, but yet knowing that everyone was thinking about me, gave me a small warm but yet sickening feeling.

“Hello Ms. Keller, Mr. Thompson.” Cathy said softly as she scooted closer to her desk, her leather chair squeaking under her weight. Her pink cheeks are lifted from the smile on her face as she pulls papers out of folders, and she starts talking. 

I don’t listen or hear her words, I just hear a soft murmur in the background. My eyes are not looking at her, they are looking behind her, through the window. There is a bird, it is small. He is sitting on a bare tree branch. He looks confused. He looks lost. I watch as he looks up and over at me, it is as if he wants me to come with him. Soon spreads his wings, flying off. I feel like that bird. I am lost, I am confused. I want to fly away, but my wings are too weak. I was a broken bird, I cannot follow him to safety.

“Tessa?” I snap out of my trance when I hear the voice of my mother. She has a hollowed voice from long hours of work, and then even longer hours of pushing me into eating, as if it was that easy. I look up, her eyes are tired, she is wearing extra consealer, and her lips looked chapped under her lip stick. She is trying to look like, professional, but she is holding on my a string, a string that is about to give out.  

“Sorry.” I said softly, I am not used to talking to my mom. Not that I never have, but for the fact that when ever we would talk, it would end up in door slamming, yelling, and fighting about my eating disorder and how I don’t try to get better. You would think that a doctor would be nicer to sick people. 

“Okay, so she will still come and see Dr. Jacobs 3 times a week to start off with. She will see her nutritionist once a week and have a psychical done once every 2 weeks. We advise that who ever she is living with, they they write down her weight at least once or twice a week, just so that the doctor has an idea.” Cathy says in her business voice, talking as if I am a lab rat trapped in a cage. “Where will she be living?” She asks softly.

“Her dad’s with her step mom and sister. My work schedule is too erratic to keep  up with everything.” My mom says as if I am not sitting next to her, or even her own daughter. 

“Okay, well. If you have any questions, just call. Tessa, I hope that this is the last time I see you here. I hope that you will go up from here.” She said solemnly as she took my hand and placed it between her hands. Her hands are warm, soft. Mine are cold, rough. 

Nodding at her, I stand up, I feel so small. I follow my dad and mom out of the office and out the doors. The cool fall air hits my face like a ton of bricks, almost knocking me back. But I know I just have to keep moving forward. 

Silently, I climb into the passenger seat of my dad’s BMW, the leather is cold on my skin. I pull the seat belt over my torso and look as my parents talk in the parking lot. I don’t see yelling, but i can see it is boiling up inside of them. But soon, my dad walks away and gets into the car without a word. The car comes to life under my feet and the hot air hits my face. 

“Rebecca has the guest room made up for you. But you can decorate it in any way you want.” He says looking over my me. He is trying. That is all I could ask for. 

“Okay.” 

That was the last word the whole ride home. No one said one word. I just watched the tress pass us by and soon they were replaced by big houses, all over one story, maybe even two if you counted the basements. Hummers, Mercedes, Lexus, BMW, Porsche, GMC. They were all in the drive ways. This was the rich part of town.

But as he pulled into our house, the light brown painted two story house with the big windows. My stomach dropped. I was no longer excited to be home, because I knew, that this was going to be worse than the clinic.