Wattpad Block Party - Summer Edition III (August 2017)

knightsrachel Presents: The Art of Being Perfect - Sneak Peek

I've hinted at the story, I've released the covers online, but I have yet to post a sample. So here it is, the first glance at my upcoming series, The Art Of Series.

The Art Of Being Perfect

Trigger Warning: This story deals with Anorexia.

"They still haven't decided what to do with me yet," I said.

My brother didn't respond, his hands shoved in his pockets as he stood next to my hospital bed.

"What are they saying?" I asked.

No response.

"Are you just going to stand there and act as though I don't exist?"

He cast me an annoyed glare. "It'd be much easier if you didn't keep talking," Emmett said.

Ouch.

Silence passed between us and Emmett pulled out his phone, leaning against the wall.

I knew Emmett well enough to know that he wasn't really mad.

"What's wrong?" I asked Emmett.

"I think it's my job to ask you that."

My gaze fell to my hands and I began to twist them in my lap. It'd become a habit over my three-day hospital stay.

"Mom and dad are talking with the doctor," Emmett quietly said. "They're talking rehab."

"Rehab?" I asked, my eyes glancing up to meet his. "I don't have a drug addiction."

"Just a starving yourself one."

All I could do was stare at Emmett's angry face, tears building up in my eyes.

"Jesus, Emily. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to..." Emmett trailed off, biting his lip. "I'm just sorry."

And then he began to cry.

The tears that had been building up in my eyes began to slip down my cheeks as I watched my twin brother break down into sobs.

"Emmett-" I started, but he walked out of the room before I could continue.

He just didn't understand. Nobody did.

It felt like days before the door opened again, this time revealing my parents, followed by my in-hospital doctor.

"How're you feeling today, Emily?" she asked, taking a seat in the rolling chair pushed off in the chair.

I just shrugged in response.

She slowly nodded. "Okay, well I've been discussing some things with your parents and I'd like to discuss them with you too, if that's alright."

I glanced toward my mom, and she just offered me a small smile. "It's alright, honey. We're here."

That didn't comfort me. But I nodded anyways.

All that I'd seemed to be doing the last couple of days to was to please those around me. I'd spoken to numerous doctors, had a psychiatric evaluation, and even been force fed by a very painful feeding tube.

I was doing all of this so that my parents would finally believe that this was an accident, a blip. I had my dieting under control, I'd just had a small slip up whilst doing so.

They didn't understand. They never would.

"Do you know how much you weigh, Emily?" Dr. Alford asked me.

Unfortunately.

I didn't answer, because I knew the two-digits before she recounted them. "92, Emily."