Temporary Home

Chapter 12

I woke up the next morning with that strange voice’s words repeating what it had said to me. I looked in my closet and the clothes it held. All black. A couple shades of purple, army greens, and blues, but mostly black. 

See, ugly. It’s just so ugly. Can’t you see this. THIS is ugly. YOU are ugly. I can’t believe Ren and Blake still are friends with you. Who likes a girl who doesn’t even look or act like a girl? Ugly!

I took all of my clothes and dumped them in the trash can. I then walked downstairs to meet Char and Rob and Dan all eating breakfast: eggs, bacon, and toast. Yum!

I sat down and was starting to load my plate with food when the voice interrupted again.

You are so fat. I mean, really. Do you need all of this food? You are such a pig! How can they stand to see you like this? I would throw up everything I have ever eaten if I saw you eat! You practically inhale your food! Fat! 

I dropped my hands. I didn’t need to eat. I wasn’t even hungry. I couldn’t make people sick when they see me. I’ll be fine. I’m not hungry. 

I was given funny looks, but I shook them off and looked over at Char. 

“Do you think we could go shopping today, please?” I asked being polite. 

I was given more funny looks. 

“Sure, what do you need?” She asked.

“A whole new wardrobe.” I said.

“Okay, that’s fine. We’ll leave after breakfast.” She said with a kind smile. 

“Thank you.”

More looks. I shrugged them off and got ready to leave. I took the least black clothes out of my trash can: dark blue skinny jeans and a gray t-shirt. 

I stood in front of my mirror. Sadly, that weird voice began talking again. 

Hideous. Look how hideous you look. Your hair isn’t pretty. Pretty girls don’t have streaks in their hair. Pretty girls don’t cover their eyes with hair. Why are you so hideous? You look like something a cat threw up. I can’t believe you think you look pretty. Hideous!

I took one last glance in the mirror, letting the voice’s words wash over me. Maybe it’s right. 

_.*._

Char took me to the mall and I bought a whole new wardrobe. Even though I didn’t like  my old clothes, it doesn’t mean I like pink. I bought a lot of oranges, purples, sky blues, greens, yellows, et cetera. Not an overload of black either, just a few items. I also got my hair cut. I now have side bangs and my hair is flowy and down to about my shoulders. It is a very dark brown, almost black. I also bought a couple pairs of heels, cowboy boots, flats, and even a couple pair of regular-heeled boots.

I went straight to my room once we got home and put everything in its rightful place. I successfully looked at my new closet, filled with happy colors. 

I got changed out of the clothes I wore to the mall, throwing them back into the trash can. I changed into a light purple skirt with small white designs on the waistband and the bottom hem. Tucked into the skirt, I wore a white V-neck shirt over a light green camisole. I quickly slid on a pair of flats and looked in the mirror, admiring my new look. 

“Annabeth! Please come down here!” Char called from downstairs. 

“Coming!” I yelled back and walked downstairs. 

“Yes?” I asked once I found her sitting in the living room.

“I heard,” Char said carefully. “That if you go to a therapist, sometimes they can trigger memories and you can regain it faster than by yourself.”