Reset

Reset: Allison's story

Allison Carrel flipped through the channels in a daze, finally settling on a renowned talk show hosted by Dr. Mildred Blair, a profound psychiatrist well-loved all over the world. Dr. Blair was a stocky woman with blond-gray hair kept in a neat pile on the top of her head, and rectangular glasses that sat on the edge of her nose in a smart-sort-of-way. She looked at her guest with serious, blue eyes.

"Tell me about your childhood," she said to a plump woman with curly, brown hair. "It might give some insight into what you're going through now, with your own daughter."

"Well ... I always had problems," the woman whimpered, clutching a wadded tissue, and pressing it against the edges of her eyes, where her too-dark eye makeup was smearing. "At home, at school ... I always felt so empty."

"And that never made you want to press your own reset button?" Dr. Blair asked.

The woman took the tissue away from her eyes, balling it tightly in her hand. "I guess I thought about it ... but I never wanted to end my life. I always hoped it would get better. That's all I ask Andrea to do," she said sobbingly. "She's barely even tried! She hasn't got to experience all the nice things there are ... out there."

As if agreeing, the audience applauded. Dr. Blair didn't become unfocused as she brought out the woman's 13 year old daughter, Andrea. She was a very thin girl with stringy, bottle-blond hair. Her eyelids were caked in thick, black eyeshadow. Allison snickered; she thought the girl looked like a raccoon.

Several minutes into the episode, the girl started shouting at her mother. "It's my life!" she yelled. "If I want to reset, then I can!"

"Think of what you'd be leaving," Dr. Blair said, trying to intervene, but little good it did. The girl became a raving lunatic. That's when Allison realized she had more productive things to do, and shut the TV off.

Getting up from the sofa, Allison went into the kitchen to start some dinner. The sun would be setting in about an hour, and she still didn't know what she wanted. Allison searched the pantry and refrigerator, but couldn't find anything appetizing. She wondered if she should just skip it altogether? She had yesterday. Actually, she hadn't eaten anything at all. Her stomach rumbled, but she ignored it.

Allison was bad about skipping meals. She'd get busy doing something, and just forget to eat, which is why she stayed so thin. People often took one look at her and pronounced her anorexic. On top of that, she didn't sleep well, so there were always black circles under her hazel eyes; she hadn't slept through an entire night in a while. The last good sleep must have been when she stayed over at her boyfriend's place, but that had been, at least, 2 months ago. They'd been growing a part for some time. It worried Allison. She loved Troy, and she believed in him, but sometimes there was a nagging voice in the back of her mind that told her he wasn't interested anymore.

She wished she could shut that voice up.

Allison picked her brush off the counter and ran it through her chin-length, dirty-blond hair. No matter how often she washed it, it always looked oily. She'd come to terms with that, but still felt a pang of envy when she was around her best friend, Amber-Lynn Myers. Amber-Lynn had the most beautiful, black hair she'd ever seen. It blanketed all the way down her back in shiny waves. It went well with her almond-shaped, green-blue eyes. She was a gorgeous girl, and she knew it too. Sometimes to the point of irritation.

Allison set the brush down and grabbed her cell phone. Maybe she'd go out for dinner. She wondered how Troy was doing, and was just about to call him when she remembered that he was still at work. He worked with a local construction company. Their hours were always jumping around.

"Amber-Lynn it is," Allison said aloud, and dialed her friend's number.

She walked into the living room and flopped back onto the sofa, kicking a leg into the air, and looking at her funky, polka-dotted sock. Allison smirked.