I hear my alarm and I feel very unmotivated to get up, turning in my bed. The nightmares were bad last night and all I want to do is go back to a peaceful sleep. One without nightmares constantly.
"How did you sleep?" Pressley asks as she climbs down to my bunk.
"Honestly, awful. Like, constant nightmares," I chuckle, sitting up to retrieve the remote so we can watch more of The Great British Baking Show.
"Aw, I'm sorry. Were the nightmare the 'demons?'" Pressley pouts, putting her head on my shoulder.
"Yeah but it's okay. It's not your fault," I reply and we lean back onto the wall to finish watching the finale of The Great British Baking Show. Edd Kimber's petit fours beat Ruth's, and Edd is crowned the winner.
"How many seasons of this can we watch?" Pressley asks, and I decide to do some sleuthing.
"It looks like there are nine completed seasons, and season ten will be airing in August," I inform her, and she smiles.
"Well, we have eight seasons left to watch!" Pressley says, starting the second season.
Midway through the cake episode, where they are making their coffee and walnut battenbergs, Mom and Ms. Ashley surprise us by bringing us Dunkin'. A glazed donut and an egg, cheese, and bacon sandwich. The glazed donut is 240 calories. The sandwich is 490 calories. Way too much.
Pressley eats hers, and keeps side-eyeing me as we watch the cakes being made. I pick at mine, refusing to eat any.
"Lilly, I know you're not going to eat any, but can you try?" Pressley pleads, and I look down, shaking my head no.
"I can't," I whisper, thinking about all the pounds I'll gain if I eat this.
Pressley sighs in defeat, and we finish watching up to the quiche episode until we get ready, dressing in our ALDC merch. Today is Pretty in Pink day, but basically all day we have a meet and greet so we only get to flaunt our actual outfits in the time it takes us to find a pizza place that the others will eat at from where we go back to the hotel.
I end up taking a bite of the sandwich begrudgingly after taking off the bagel, wasting fifty calories out of my two-hundred-fifty today. At least it's not technically a sandwich, since I took off the bagel portion.
"Girls! Time to go! Lilly, your mom told me to tell you to take your medicine!" Ms. Ashley yells, and I yell back, "Thank you!"
I fish through my bags until I find my Fluoxetine and Cymbalta, guzzling it down concerningly fast. I grab my phone and my Pretty in Pink outfit and rush out of the room, getting a sudden burst of panic-filled energy.
"Lilly, slow down," Pressley gasps, running out of breath as she tries to keep up.
"I don't want to be late," I state, pressing the down button on the elevator.
"Lilly, calm down. We're not going to be late. Breathe," Pressley tries to convince me, and I take a big breath.
"Ok. Ok," I convince myself, fiddling with my fingers to try to contain my anxiety.
"I can't wait to have the next two days off!" Hannah exclaims, leaning onto the lobby couches as Pressley and I approach the lobby.
"I would think we'd never get more than a day off!" Sarah adds, and I plop down next to Sarah.
"I heard we have over 500 people and we're going to have to do two different photo-ops, one before and one after the dances and mock auditions, so this is going to be like all day," Brady announces, and we all get a bit excited for the 500 people.
"Guys, on the minibus!" Mom yells to all of us, and we all file out to the minibus.
I sit next to Sarah on the minibus. Pressley has a crush on Brady. I giggle to myself as I open up my laptop and find a movie for us to watch.
Sarah and I decide on the brand new movie Missing Link, and as we're watching it, Gia exclaims, "Oh my God, we're going to die!"
"Wait, why?" we all ask, getting a bit nervous.
"The venue has a haunted ballroom and a hidden room," Gia announces, and I get excited.
The longer I resonate with the fact there are ghosts, I start to get a little creeped out, and then ashamed. I've never really believed in ghosts before. You're foolish for believing in ghosts, Lilliana. You're stupid and you don't deserve to be with these smart people.
"Time for the ghosts!" Pressley announces as we pull up to a blue building that is our venue.
"It doesn't look scary..." I mumble, confused at how this bright building could have a haunted ballroom.
"Well, we'll find out!" Brady optimistically exclaims, an undertone of dread lying just on the surface.
We all nervously, but excitedly, get out of the minibus and grab some luggage to take in. As we walk into the venue, we don't see the ballroom yet. As the moms confirm all the information, a map on the wall shows us the room in between our venue and where we are right now.
"Are we ready?" Mackenzie asks, and we all shake our heads no.
As we approach the door, we all grasp each other's hands, sling our luggage onto our shoulders, and open the door. There are no lights on. The moms enter right behind us. We all look around with our eyes.
"Maybe it's not-" Hannah begins to suggest, but suddenly we're met with a loud clang, something crashing into something else in the opposite corner.
Immediately, we all start screaming and running for the door. I nearly trip over my duffel bag, but I manage to get to the door, Brady, and Mackenzie holding them open for us. All the mothers run out after us, screaming and having a cow as well.
"I guess you guys found the haunted ballroom," Ms. Abby announces from behind us, and we all yelp in surprise, jolting back.
Ms. Abby laughs and then orders, "Okay, so the photo ops will be at the back of the stage so the front of the stage is clear for dancing. I want everybody to put on their leotards under their glorious ALDC merch. Today, we will be doing Body and Soul, solos, and Thought and Prayers, as well as two rounds of mock auditions in between. The first photo op will be right at the beginning, and the last at the end. So girls, leotards, boys and moms, help set up."
All five of us grab our leotards and set off to find a bathroom around here, eventually finding a one-stall. Not wanting to do any more walking, we all take turns. Everybody who I get glimpses of while they're walking out looks so much better in the leotard. I go last, examining myself a bit in the mirror. I don't look half-bad in it. I see some more bones showing, and I walk out, sliding the ALDC sweatshirt over.
Retracing our steps, avoiding the haunted ballroom at all costs, we find our way back to the auditorium. All the headshot booths are already set up, so we all start goofing off in the auditorium, stretching out and doing random tricks on the stage as the fans file in, trying to contain their excitement.
"Guys, look at the little kids!" Sarah exclaims, getting all giddy as we make our way to the back at the headshot booth.
All the four and five-year-olds. Little innocent beans that probably don't know the crushing disappointment of life. Don't know life's secrets. Don't know my secret. All the fans, young and old, don't know of any eating disorder that I've had. Bulimia or anorexia.
We all sit down, and about ten minutes later, we see a line of about two hundred fifty people all freaking out to see us. I smile for two-hundred-fifty photos, taking about ninety minutes, which is a lot of time for a photo op. I rub my cheeks after every photo, all the big smiles hurting my cheeks.
Then we have Body and Soul. I see some parents cover their young children's eyes, and some other people's eyes go wide with shock and disgust. I guess Blackpool isn't into leotards and sassy jazz numbers. It's because you're too fat to be in the leotard, Lilliana. Everybody thinks that you're too fat in the leotard.
Ms. Abby starts to bad mouth the audience about covering their eyes while we all slip back on our leggings and sweatshirts for mock auditions round 1. We all run up on the stage, smiling big in our more modest outfits.
I think we're just going to be using the same combo from now on because we're doing the same combination for the auditions. Once again, Pressley gets out first, but this time, she dropped her heel on the turn. Sarah gets out for bad alignment on her aerial, which is unusual for her. Hannah gets out for not enough back flexibility in the back walkover, which makes me, Brady, and Gia the top three.
Then we have solos. Pressley goes first, with her Possessed solo, which I hear scattered clapping for. Then Gia with Snowflake, which gets a lot more applause. Hannah with The Last Unicorn, also gets a lot of applause. I think the cutesy, non-creepy, or mature dances are doing better with this audience.
Brady's PTSD solo gets a lot of applause, which, due to the previous track record of the audience, is surprising, but well deserved. Sarah's America's Sweetheart solo gets a normal amount of applause, probably because she makes the routine look easy, so good job Sarah. I'm last. Will they applaud me because I have no arms, or will they cower because of my facial expressions?
I do the routine, making sure to do the facial expressions. The young children look intrigued, and the adults look terrified. Probably because if I mess up, I could get hurt because I have no arms to stop me. Flashbacks are trying to get through, but I push them back as I finish the routine.
I get a roar of applause, and I smile, bow, and jog off stage, ready for mock auditions round two. I, Gia, and Brady jog out on the stage and start to do the combo. Brady's hands are uneven on his turns, so he gets out. One minor difference can ruin your chance for bragging rights.
And of course, I second-guess the back walkover, making me off the beat, making Gia the winner. I won last time, so she deserves the win. Second is the first to lose, Lilliana. Even in a mock audition.
I run backstage with Brady and Gia, everybody else already in their Thoughts and Prayers costumes. Brady, Gia, and I quickly slip them on and hustle to catch up with the others, standing off so we can make our entrances.
There is a healthy amount of clapping, so I guess we didn't offend too many people with our finale dance for this meet-and-greet. We wave as we go off stage, and we rush back to put back on our normal attire for the other two-hundred and fifty people.
It's kind of sad and forlorn seeing half the audience leave. They came to watch us dance, and now they're gone. But nothing lasts forever. Maybe my sadness and my cutting, and the now near-constant desire to kill myself, and my eating disorder will go like half the audience. But probably not. The mere idea of being healed at this point is laughable.
I shake my head to get out of my train of thought so I can sit down and smile with two hundred-fifty more people. All the younger kids that we missed before jump around and tell me that I was the no-arms girl. They remind me of the happy Lilly when I was younger. The Lilly that everybody thought I was on the earlier seasons of Dance Moms. Happy, go-lucky, ball of sunshine Lilly.
"They're so cute!" Sarah gushes as we help tear down our headshot banner apparatuses.
"They called me no-arms girl!" I shout, and everybody laughs.
Once we're done, Ms. Ann announces, "Okay, so everybody go put on your Pretty in Pink outfits. We'll find a scenic place to take some photos, and then we can walk around to find a pizza place."
Pizza. I hope they have a salad I can have instead. Brady goes off with his outfit somewhere. I start to get more and more anxious, my hands clamming up as the girls and I race up and down, trying to find a multi-stall bathroom.
With no success, we find our old bathroom and it's like a mini fashion show. Mine is more beach-themed despite the near-constant cloudy weather. A pink strapless romper and pink quincy sandal heels, both from Nordstrom, pink stud seashell earrings, and a pink knotted bow headband, both from Claire's. I keep my hair straight but raise the ponytail higher.
My collarbone is barely showing at all, skin and fat covering it. I'm almost there for my weight goal. I just need to act as I have in the meantime. I need to act perfectly even though I'm not and probably never going to be. I quickly switch my retro phone case to a white one with pink piping and pink sharks on it to compliment the beachy vibe, and walk out so Hannah and Sarah can finish getting ready.
We all start to walk down the hallway, and the hot pink is blinding against the mundane hallways. All the moms compliment our outfits and Brady returns, getting complimented. He's not wearing full pink, but he's wearing a pink shirt.
All the bags are packed already, so we all grab a couple of bags of luggage and trek back to the haunted ballroom. This time, we don't even waste time. We just book it at the other entrance. Since it's pitch black, we stumble around, and I faceplant into the ground because Sarah knocks into me. Luckily, no injuries are sustained except for really big bruises on my stomach and ribs.
"Oh my God, are you okay? I like, knocked you to the ground," Sarah exclaims, panting in between words while she recovers from the sprint.
"Probably some bruises, but nothing too bad. I'll be fine," I convince Sarah.
I can still tell that she feels a bit bad, but she nods and we run up to catch up with the other guys, who are ahead of us. Sarah and I start to chat about the time she saved a baby hummingbird outside of her home once as we get back onto the minibus.
We all put our luggage in the back of the minibus and we climb back in. I haven't noticed this until now, but bus rides without a camera crew or producers are so much more peaceful.
I pull out my laptop and we continue to watch The Missing Link until we get back to the hotel. After we all go back to our room to put away our luggage, we all reconvene back in the lobby to set out to find a pizza place.
"I think I may have seen a place south of here about half an hour away or at least a restaurant. We could probably walk there," Mom announces.
After a quick Google Map check, turns out Mom somehow managed to spot a pizza place in the hundreds of buildings we passed. We all give Mom a round of applause jokingly before setting off for the pizza place.
Mackenzie's a little bit of a goofball. He starts balancing on the curb, pretending to be a trapeze artist. All of the children, me included, mock him. The moms look very apprehensive even though we are legitimate dancers and I did do gymnastics for a single year.
With no casualties nor fatalities, we keep walking, Mom shouting out directions until we reach the pizza place. It's just a stall in a building, not a sit-down restaurant. One slice is 500 calories. Luckily, there is a salad option. 200 calories. Exactly my limit of calories. Hannah also gets a salad, so at least I won't look weird.
I haven't eaten all day. I could've used the gum Elliana got me to soothe my aching stomach, but I knew I was going to eat, so I'm going to save it for another day. I chow it down without any guilt, because I'm right at my calorie limit now, and it's healthy, unlike pizza.
We eat as we walk, talking about the delicious Blackpool pizza and joking about how sewage water was used to make the dough. Fortunately, the lettuce and the other toppings are probably sourced from other places.
As we approach the hotel, we all throw away the paper plates and clear plastic bowls. It feels so weird eating a complete meal, but it's only two hundred calories. It's at least within my limit. And nobody bats an eye. Perfect.
Since Pressley and I are staying in the tiny room with bunk beds for two more nights, we decide to set up the Playstation. It's already plugged into the television, but Pressley and I are unfamiliar with the controls. The only game they have is Everybody's Golf.
"I'm bad enough at normal golf, how can I be worse at this golf?" Pressley squeals as she gets the maximum amount of hits allowed on a hole.
"I'm losing! What are you talking about?" I playfully argue, laughing on the top bunk with Pressley.
"This is probably- ugh- a standing game," I grunt, making another bad game.
"Yeah, but we're too lazy," Pressley states, and I laugh.
"Girls! Time for bed! Or at least no video games!" Mom shouts, and we sigh in sadness.
I climb down from the bunk and reluctantly turn off the Playstation. I grab the remote and turn back to Netflix, starting back on The Great British Baking Show.
"Rematch tomorrow morning!" I exclaim as I grab my pajamas for the night.
"Deal!" she promises back and turns to face the television as I close our bathroom door.
I slip off my Pretty in Pink Outfit and I put on a long-sleeved satin pink strawberry set, the satin feeling nice and comforting on my skin compared to normal pajamas.
I'm not going to use my razor tonight. Today was a good day. Nothing horrible. The meet and greet went mostly okay, minus the ghosts. I ate pretty healthy stuff, and I didn't go over my calorie limit. If only every day was like this.
I brush out my hair and my teeth, making sure it isn't tangly or ratty. It is my only good asset. The only thing that distracts people from my awful body. The pajamas are baggy and at least cover my frame.
I walk out right in the middle of the contestants making free-form loaves. Must be bread week. All the food being made makes my stomach settle. Just seeing it must trick my brain into thinking that I'm not hungry.
Once we finish the episode, I turn off the television and I crawl into the for once, not too thick or thin sheets, keeping me warm without nearly smothering me to death. Suddenly, a loud clap of thunder hits, and I yelp. I don't enjoy thunderstorms.
I start to shake, curling up in a ball, and I try to make no noise to upset Pressley. Tears are streaming down my cheeks silently. My stomach hurts, I feel dizzy, and I have a headache from crying so much.
"Lilly? Are you awake? I can't sleep," Pressley whispers, and I crawl out of the covers and up the ladder.
"Neither can I. The thunderstorm's scary," I whisper back, climbing into Pressley's bed right up next to her.
I lean her head on my shoulder and we lay down.
"Can I sleep with you tonight?" I ask, and she nods.
"Yeah. Being in the top bunk alone in a thunderstorm is scary," Pressley adds, and it lightens the mood.
I cuddle up with Pressley in the tiny twin bunk and luckily, the thunderstorm begins to die down and I finally fall into a nightmare-filled doze.
~~~~~