***lilly***
I slowly open my eyes, and a wave of fatigue hits me, almost forcing me to close my eyes again, but something tells me to stay awake. I hear the humming of machines, the beeping of monitors, and a hard surface on my back. My chest is still in a lot of pain, making me wince as I force myself to observe my surroundings.
I notice I am a lot colder than I usually am. There is a thin white blanket on me, and I'm not wearing the sweatshirt and sweatpants they changed me into. What am I wearing? A thin blue dress with my cuts exposed. Weird.
I look to my sides. Rails. Plastic rails. I'm so confused. I look up and I see nobody. I'm all alone. As I find the monitors with my heartbeat and blood pressure, the white tile sprinkled with dashes of colors, and the sickening smell, my stomach drops. I'm in a hospital.
The walls start closing in. I feel like I can't breathe. I hesitate to press the red button on the side that signals for help, though. I need to breathe. I try to take a deep breath through my nose, but something is stuck in there.
I flare my nostrils in an attempt to take the object out of my nose, but it won't get out. Is my phone nearby? A mirror? I also begin to notice the tape up my face. Is it all connected?
Through my panic attack, I feel up my face and sure enough, it is connected. It's like a string, or like a thin tube. I force myself to calm down enough so that I can see clearly. My eyes travel the thin tube to a bag hanging from a pole.
The bag is filled with this tan fluid. I suddenly remember these in the inpatient unit. I remember having one at one point. My face and stomach fall as I recognize it as a feeding tube.
I feel like I can't breathe. I start to cry. Oh my god, how many calories have I had? How many pounds have I gained? So many calories, Lilliana. Take out the feeding tube or else you'll become fat.
I find the two pieces of tape holding the feeding tube to my face. The good thing is medical tape doesn't hurt as bad as Scotch tape. I tear it off and now the feeding tube is hanging from my face. I then start tugging on it.
I feel it tickling my throat, making me gag and retch, but I think of how many calories this tube has force-fed me. I hear a small ringing go off, but I could care less as tears stream down my face, and I keep pulling.
As I get almost the entire tube out of my system, trying to calculate the calories despite not even knowing, some lady rushes into the room. A nurse.
"Honey, I need you to calm down," a nurse says as she grabs my wrist, trying to get me to stop.
I start to scream in fear as I keep pulling the tube out. The nurse pages someone, and I continue crying until I finally pull the tube out.
The nurse tries to calm me down, but I just keep crying, "Leave me alone! I want my Mom!"
Where is she? She knows I hate hospitals. She'd be here to calm me down and tell me everything's gonna work out. But she's not. During my little meltdown, another nurse comes in. He's holding something shiny in his hand, and it gives me a lot of anxiety not knowing what it is.
"Honey, I need you to hold still," the nurse holding the object tells me.
He takes my wrist gently, and I immediately start screaming again in fear. After a couple of minutes of treacherous and terrifying wrestling, a couple more nurses come rushing in and start pinning me down.
I feel a sharp sting in my arm, and I yelp at the sting. Did somebody pinch me? Gradually, over the next few seconds, I start to feel really tired, and I slowly start to give up, and so do they. I slowly close my eyes and fall asleep.
When I wake up, my hands are tied to the rails with zip ties. I tug, but I'm too weak to try to escape anyway. The feeding tube is back in. Great. I start to cry again, succumbing to my fate here.
"Lilly?" I hear someone whisper at the foot of my bed.
~~~~~
I wake up sweating, my eyes damp with tears, the skin surrounding it itchy. I can move my wrists. I'm in my bed. It's just a nightmare. I look at the clock. Four in the morning. No use going to sleep. Might as well wake up early. You're such a baby for having these night terrors, Lilliana. Grow the hell up!
100 calorie limit today. I stand up from my bed, and I get tunnel vision. I grip onto my headboard and my vision comes back. I stumble to the dresser and choose a black sports bra and legging combo over a dance long-sleeved purple t-shirt.
I do my skincare and spend the rest of the hour covering my cuts. All twenty-two of them. I almost start crying just looking at them. The cuts are so ugly, Lilliana. You look like your dogs had a field day on your wrists. The urges tell me to cut, but then they shame me for it. What do they want?
I put my hair in a high ponytail, add a little blush to make me look less dead and pale, a little lip gloss to hide my chapped lips. They sting, but it's tolerable. By now it's 5:30, so about half an hour before I have to take my medicine. My anxiety is sky-high.
My leg is shaking in nervousness about me and Pressley's duet. What if Pressley doesn't want to be my friend after this? What if I put too much emotion into this and I have a mental breakdown? You don't deserve friends, Lilliana. Why should you care? Pressley isn't gonna be your friend anyway after this. She probably was never your friend, and she's just a faker. Who would be friends with you in the first place?
I want to cry, get back in bed, and not go to dance, my brain overfilling with bad thoughts. Ill thoughts. But alas, Ms. Abby will kill me if I miss a day of dance if I'm not physically sick. And I'm not sick in the body, I'm sicker in the head. It doesn't count.
I stumble slowly to the kitchen, trying to drag out the time in between as long as possible, praying for an Ensure day. Luckily, I forgot my phone and my dance stuff in my room, so it was a double trip. I also take my medicine, which just adds time.
"Lilly! Stop dilly-dallying! Grab an Ensure and go find Pressley! We're carpooling with her in her car," Mom shouts as I search for my phone.
I find it under my bed, and by the look of the time, it's an Ensure day. Banana nut. Yuck. Good thing I won't be drinking it. I put on my shoes, snatch the Ensure from the fridge, and I head out the door. I go down the stairs while Mom uses the elevator. I'm faster, of course.
I "chug" my Ensure long enough so Mom can see that I'm "drinking" it. Of course, it goes in the trash with all the other liquids. I find Pressley's car and she's already in it. She unlocks the car door and I slip in. She gives me a look and pats the seat next to her. I buckle my seatbelt next to her.
"You look sick. Do you feel nauseous or anything?" she whispers in my ear and she examines my face once again.
I hesitantly nod. Truth is, I'm not feeling very well. My vision keeps coming in and out, and my head feels like it's being squished, it's being pressurized. She wraps her arm around her, pulling me in.
"I gotta get a photo for Instagram. Lilly, Pressley, smile!" Mom tells me, and we smile big, bringing color to my face.
My smile goes flat once she puts her phone away and my face goes pale again. She pushes my face against her side and I slowly close my eyes, falling asleep on the half-hour car ride.
"Lilly? Wake up," Pressley says and I groggily sit up, yawning.
"We're at the studio, c'mon," she coaxes me out of the car and I try to be more energetic as we walk into the studio, gracing my face with a big smile.
I set down my duffel bag on the seat as I see GiaNina. I wave at her, and she gives a smile and a nod back, but she scowls at Pressley. Pressley scowls back. The cameras aren't on them, I guess. Kamryn and Sarah both arrive shortly after, and then Hannah finally makes her appearance.
"Girls! Come on! Studio B!" Ms. Abby shouts from Studio B.
We quickly run into the studio and Ms. Abby starts handing out assignments.
"Gia, your duet has been postponed until we get Canton and Elliana and you can work on it. Be lucky I'm allowing your duet to go on at all. I want Gianna to work on the duet with Lilly and Pressley first. Then the group dance. I want to work on Kamryn's solo while the duet is going on. I want everyone to be perfect today. Perfect. Gia, Sarah, and Hannah, go do your school in the den," Ms. Abby orders and we start breaking off into groups.
"Okay, so just I'm going to recap what this dance is about. Pressley, you are this dark spirit. This luring darkness. Lilly, you are this lightness, like an innocent little bright blip. And then Pressley, your goal is to capture Lilly. Pulling her in. And in the end, you may succeed and you may fail. Let's start going over the choreography," Ms. Gianna informs us and she starts going over the choreography.
There are a lot of synchronized moves in the dance. To be honest, there are a lot of sickled feet on both ends, and Pressley is having a hard time keeping up. Ms. Abby comes in and watches us with a close eye. The two kids that have been fat-shamed by Ms. Abby. Doing a duet together. You're so tiny and fat compared to Pressley, Lilliana. You don't deserve your duet.
"We got a lot done," Ms. Gianna comments as we start dancing for her.
"Your legs need to be together Pressley!" Ms. Abby shouts as we do some sort of worm-type move.
"Lilly, I see your hips and thighs jiggling. Lose some weight, kid," Ms. Abby also comments and my little amount of confidence shatters.
You disappoint Ms. Abby when you eat, Lilliana. That's why you shouldn't eat. You're gonna disappoint Pressley and Ms. Ashley and Mom and Ms. Gianna and Ms. Abby and everyone else on the team if you don't lose some weight.
"Right now, I see a hot mess. Lilly, you need to suck in your stomach. I can barely see your abs. And both of you, especially Pressley, I have told you time and time again to fix your feet. I don't want to go to Canton, where the Candy Apples may be present, and present that on stage. Send in Kammy and do your school before lunch," Ms. Abby orders and we quickly sprint out of the room.
"Is my stomach that big?" I ask Pressley and I go to the bathroom to quickly clean up before school.
"What? No, Lilly. You have a fine body," Pressley assures me and dries her hands.
I turn to the side, examining my humongous stomach quickly. That stomach is so big, Lilliana. You gotta do some planks after dance to flatten your humongous stomach. I frown as I walk out of the bathroom and grab my laptop sitting in the corner next to Sarah.
I only have math, science, and English. It allows me a little more wiggle room on how I can allot my time. I decide to double down on math, kinda get that out of the way. Ugh, fractions are so difficult.
The dancer's den is dead silent, the only sounds filling the room are the clacking of computer keys, the unsatisfied grunts of when we get questions wrong, and my own intrusive thoughts that are melding into my own thoughts. You're so dumb, Lilliana. You're barely passing with As. Your mom is going to be so angry that you aren't passing in the 95s. I want to cry and just have a breakdown, but I repress my feelings long enough to make it to lunch.
I only eat three carrots, which is 30 calories. Pressley already knows I don't feel the greatest, but she points out the fact that I'm not eating a lot. Thank God it's just the two of us eating together.
"Lilly, you have to eat more. Not eating is going to make you feel worse," Pressley gently says to me, signaling me to eat something else.
"Press, I'm fine. I just don't want to risk upsetting my stomach," I tell her coldly, adopting a softer tone towards the end, trailing off a bit. You can't eat anymore, Lilliana. You're sick and you're fat enough.
"Girls, time for 'Blue Bloods!' Let's go!" Ms. Abby yells from Studio A, and I throw away the rest of my lunch much to Pressley's disappointment.
***elliana***
Ugh, of course, I'm stuck at home, watching the video that Mom forwarded to me from the dance studio. I'm still catching up on my educational hours. This is so annoying. I get a text from Pressley, who, from what I heard from Gia, hates my guts.
Pressley: Lilly won't eat
Ellie: That's extreme
Pressley: she's feeling sick and she won't eat more than a couple of baby carrots and then threw out the rest.
Ellie: k thx for letting me know
Pressley: gtg bye
I hate this so much. I haven't seen Lilly in the studio firsthand in a week, and so much can change in a week. I hear crying almost every night until she falls asleep at midnight, night terror screams last night that her mother did not take care of. This is so confusing and scary at the same time. I hate spying on my friend so much, but it could be a matter of life or death.
Who knows?
***lilly***
I'm supposed to be royal. We're professional and imperial until the paint, which the mothers have decided to disguise onto the blue sleeves of our costumes. The aristocracy has gotten to our heads, and we've been given a sharp reality check. I'm the last one to disappear before Sarah does our extro. I mess up once, doing the wrong move. You can't even remember a single move, Lilliana. You are not a smart dancer.
"Kamryn. I have worked out a way for Elliana to be in the group routine, so you will not be performing in the group routine. You're still going to dance today, but not in Canton. Pressley and Lilly. I am going to work a little on the duet before we leave, but just to finish it. I expect it to be clean. I expect you to practice together. Gia. Ms. Gianna will work on your duet and I expect it to be perfect by tomorrow night. I have rented out a studio there for us to work on because these are not performance ready. You guys are dismissed. I will work with Lilly and Pressley first thing tomorrow morning," Ms. Abby states as we leave Studio A.
Kamryn looks a little down and we all hug her. She must have really wanted to prove to Ms. Abby that she deserves to be on the team. And now she only has to rely on the solo to do that.
"Hey, Lilly, I was wondering if you wanted to sleepover?" Pressley asks me as we walk to her car.
"I'll... have to ask my mom," I slowly reply, smiling while texting to my Mom.
What if I throw up? How do I disguise my eating habits? How do I cut? But it's not like me to pass up an opportunity to have a sleepover with my best friend? You're gonna become so fat and ugly if you go to this sleepover. But I have to show Mom that I'm normal. This is a normal thing that normal people do.
"Sure, you can go to the sleepover," Mom replies to the question I didn't even know I asked, her walking to Ms. Tricia's car.
"Thank you," I lie, smiling before I walk back to Pressley to relay what my Mom said.
She squeals in excitement before she tells me, "Seven o'clock. Be there."
We get in the car, and all I can feel is panic and fear. My breath snakes out of my body again, but I gotta keep it under wraps. Nobody can know. Nobody can know anything about this.
I'm shaking a little in fear. Pressley and I are really close, especially now that Gia has abandoned her for Elliana essentially. I think she's becoming one of my best friends now. You can't have friends, Lilliana. Nobody likes you. You don't deserve them. I still feel really sick. But I have to convince Pressley I'm okay. I manage to stay awake throughout the car ride, and even do a TikTok, despite me looking half-dead.
"Lilly, honey, are you okay?" Ms. Ashley asks, her eyes peering into the rear-view mirror.
"Y-Yeah, I guess dance wore me out a bit. I'm okay," I lie back, and Pressley gives me a look.
Before anybody can say anything, we pull into the parking garage. I thank Ms. Ashley for the ride and go to my apartment. Mom is already there. I pack my bags without even saying a word to her. I pack my razor just in case, and an extra concealer for the night. How am I going to stay under my limit, without throwing up, and not cut tonight?
I don't even say goodbye to her. I weigh myself beforehand. 66.1 pounds. I hope that I lose an additional 1.1 pounds over the competition.
"Lilly, be safe!" Mom yells out as I leave the apartment without saying anything back in response.
I'm so done with Mom right now. But to be honest, I'd rather be in a place that I could not eat without anybody getting suspicious. I use the steps instead of the elevator. It burns more calories. Maybe I could go a little over the limit. You can't eat, Lilliana. You're stupid, stupid, stupid.
Oh my God, am I doing this? I check the phone. Seven exactly. I hesitantly knock on the door thrice and then step back in anxiety. I pick at the skin in my fingers until Pressley unlocks the door.
"Come on in! I've got pizza!" she teases and I put on a fake smile.
You can't have the pizza, Lilliana. It's a fear food. I should've taken a Venlafaxine, even though it probably won't help anyway. My breathing is panicky and shallow.
"Mom, we're going to be in my room," Pressley reports to her mother.
"Okay, honey. Don't do anything dangerous and if someone gets sick, it's over," Ashley reminds us.
"We will," we chirp together before rushing to her bedroom.
Sure, enough, there is a pizza box with a slice taken out. She must've eaten a pizza slice. Don't eat the pizza, Lilliana, or else you'll become a fatter, uglier, disgusting mess. I shakily take a small slice. I estimate 200 calories or so. I only have 70 calories left. I take two bites before setting it down.
You're so ugly, Lilliana. Why would you make yourself fatter by eating the pizza? You should just kill yourself. Pressley turns on Netflix from her laptop and puts on a show that I'm too deep in a panic to recognize the name of. I look on social media, and the comments are all "you make me wanna throw up" and "you don't deserve to be on the team"
I can't stop thinking about the pizza, the duet, and social media. Everything is so overwhelming. I crawl next to Pressley and pick at the skin on my hands, tears welling up in my eyes.
"Lilly, what's wrong?" Pressley asks and I start to cry and shake.
Everything is amplified yet her words of comfort are muffled. The world is becoming a little blurry and my head feels dizzy. My leg is shaking. I ball up next to her and I sob into her hoodie, waiting out the wave of panic. It's terrifying. A roller coaster that I don't want to go on that I eventually always find myself onto. Kill yourself, Lilliana.
My breath is slowly returning. The feeling of dread and fear is fading. My eyes stop flooding and can focus on the stitching on her hoodie and I slowly look up. Pressley has her arm wrapped around me. By the looks of it, her mother isn't in the room.
"Don't worry, I didn't get my mom. Just tell me what happened. You're safe, okay?" Pressley tells me in a soft tone.
It doesn't sound like she's lying. I'm still readjusting, though. Should I tell her? She's gonna abandon you, Lilliana. Don't tell her. Maybe I should talk about it. Talking is what therapists do, and therapy helped me until Mom stopped the treatment.
"A-Are you gonna-gonna leave m-me?" I stumble, looking straight into her eyes.
"No, why would I do that? I'm not going to leave you. I promise," she reassures me, rubbing my shoulder.
"The duet, it's just too relatable, and it's taking me back to a place that I haven't been to in years. Nine years old, had a bright future, and then bam, the thoughts entered my head. Lured me, and then I'm always gonna be trapped. Kinda like-" I start to explain before Pressley finishes my sentence.
"How the lightness lures in the darkness. Well, if you're too uncomfortable, we can get Ms. Abby to cancel the duet. But if you're scared that you're gonna come back, you have a lot of people who care about you, and I know you're so so strong," Pressley reassures me.
"I-I know. I-I'm okay now. Thanks," I say, still clinging to Pressley's side like a baby.
I'm not okay, but enough that I can mask the pain. Pressley picks up my phone, and immediately takes notice of the comments on the side. I bury my face in her side again, and the tears well up again. I peek at the phone and I see her deleting the comments.
"People can be mean. Why don't we watch some more episodes before we go to bed? Maybe you'll cheer up then," Pressley asks me.
She sets the phone down and picks up her computer again, and we resume the show. It's funny, but I'm still forced to create my own laughter instead of the natural laughter that would occur normally.
After a couple more episodes, Ms. Ashley comes in and tells us, "Girls, time for bed. We have a competition to get to tomorrow."
Pressley goes first. Her hair is tied up and she has a blue unicorn onesie. I also brought a onesie, coincidentally. I go to her own bathroom. Lucky. I quickly brush out my hair and teeth before eyeing my phone case. If I pull off the case, I have my razor. But I have Pressley too. Cut, Lilliana. Pressley won't notice. I decide to snap my hair tie a couple of times. It doesn't help as much, but it helps a little.
I put on a white unicorn onesie that covers up everything. My wrists, my ugly body, everything. I hate that I ate pizza. I want to throw it up so bad. Why did you eat the pizza, Lilliana? It's making you so fat. I calm myself down before I return to the bathroom.
"Ooh, twinsies!" Pressley squeals and I fake a smile.
I get on the right side of the bed and Pressley takes the left. She has a bigger bed than me. I hope I don't have another night terror. That would be embarrassing. I grab my stuffed llama from my bag and I put my head on the pillow.
"Goodnight Lilly," she whispers to me.
"Goodnight," I whisper back before I shut my eyes, slipping into darkness.
~~~~~