Emily #freementalillness #literasia

t w e n t y o n e

Emily thought that by distancing herself from everyone she'd be doing them a favor. Walter was distressed because she was in the hospital. Because she kept doing the things she swore she wouldn't. Because she wanted to die. So if she didn't mean a thing to him, he couldn't hurt.

If he never came back this wouldn't have happened. He would've lived his life without ever thinking twice about her, if she was upset or not, and if there was something wrong.

Because with Emily, there was never something right.

Emily was due for a weigh-in at the hospital. Before going, she spent an hour pacing around her room and swallowing bottles of water. It was difficult because she could barely hold it down. It kept threatening to come up, but she swallowed the water, gulp after gulp, feeling larger than ever.

She then placed rolls of coins in her clothing, lining the edges, so that she could add extra weight.

The whole bus ride took about seventeen minutes. It felt like seventy. The roads seemed to stretch for longer and the lights on each car too bright.

The number that showed up was disgusting to Emily. But it was good to the nurses.

They let her go, and released her of all future weigh-ins, because Emily was a good liar, and nobody would believe that an Asian girl had any other problem than the ones in her textbooks.

Every new day was a new struggle. To eat or not to eat. She knew what would happen if she didn't. She knew what would happen if she did. And she was more afraid of what would happen if she did.

Not eating was hard. Her stomach growled and begged and stung with pain. She felt weak and empty and it was difficult to do anything at all. It wasn't the pretty, skinny girls you'd see on television dismissing a salad, it was dry, pale skin and hair coming out in handfuls and dark rings around hollow eyes and limp muscles and an aching head, it was constant exhaustion and lack of will, it was bad teeth, it was the longing for food, to taste it and smell it and chew it, but staying away and sipping ice water, and when she finally took a taste, much to her own wanting and berating, she felt disgusting, large, sick, greasy, like a fat pig who didn't do anything but eat.

But she wasn't allowed to feel any of that. No. Because Asian girls don't have emotions, right? They only study, right? They don't have friends or interests or a personality, right? They're someone to push around and make fun of and sneer at, right?

Wrong.

But there wasn't anyone stopping it.

And Emily let the gunfire fall.

Several times in culinary arts had Walter almost engaged Emily in conversation, but he quickly recomposed himself to focus on his cooking, which, if he was being honest, had greatly improved, meaning he could complete a sloppy dish without inducing immediate vomiting or a harsh word from Chef.

Even so, he still slipped up many a time, usually lost in thought. He couldn't help but wonder if Emily was okay, or if she was sad that particular day, and if she needed someone to talk to.

He knew the answers to all of these musings, deep down, but felt too guilty to address them. So he folded himself into a false reality, turning to the girl who made forgetting easier.

"Hey, Sam. What do you call a snake that is 3.14 feet long?"

"What?" Samantha looked up from icing her perfect, cherry centered, dark chocolate petit four with a little heart in the corner.

"A python!" Walter exclaimed proudly.

Samantha laughed so wildly that she squirted frosting all over her face and apron. From the next table over, Emily was hiding a smirk that faded when Walter grabbed a paper towel and began to help Samantha clean off her face.

"Here, let me," he said.

"I'm okay, I swear, I got this," Samantha said, giggling still, and reaching for the paper towel in his hand.

Emily swallowed the sour taste in her mouth and focused on her own pastries, which she had lost the motivation to complete. Everything had become lackluster ever since leaving the hospital, not that anything had sparkled or shined before.

It was a low blow, however, to find her ex-best friend being best friends and possibly more with her nemesis. Emily's disdain was petty. She held no claim on Walter. She had practically dismissed him with a spinning kick to the face, with a harsh, 'and stay away!' attitude.

As a result, she found herself torn once again, but unwilling to act and make amends. Walter looked perfectly well off. A guilty feeling arose. If she did anything to ruin that happy-go lucky of his, she would hate herself even more, she reminded herself.

So there was her resolution. Stay away. Let the flames engulf her one last time.