Our alarm goes off at three in the morning. Ugh. I can already hear my stomach grumbling, but today I'll be fasting. Maybe I'll just decline airline food. I hope I don't offend the flight attendants, though.
"We have to bring our bags downstairs. Mom and Stacey are going to be downstairs in half an hour," Pressley groans.
"Great, we can sleep more," I whine, falling out of my bed, still a log on the floor.
I reach up for a hair tie and pull my hair in a ponytail, still laying on the floor. Pressley stumbles to my bed and helps me up. We lean on each other as we walk to the bathroom so we can brush out our hair and our teeth.
"I'm so tired. I hope they have some caffeinated item in the lobby," Pressley complains.
"You're only eleven," I groan, splashing my face with water, becoming a bit more alive.
"I know. Let's get our bags downstairs. Mom is waiting downstairs. Your mom is still getting ready," Pressley says.
"Ugh," I groan, stumbling back to get my bags, packing up my medicine.
"I'm going to miss the UK," Pressley sighs, grabbing her bags.
"Me too," I agree, gripping my bags in my hands, feeling weak holding them.
"Goodbye London!" we both whisper-shout as we exit the hotel room for the last time.
I drag my bags on the floor as we walk down the hall for the first time. We press the elevator button, and Tricia and Brady are also there. Pressley immediately lights up as we enter the elevator. God, she's head over heels.
"How are you guys feeling?" Tricia asks, and I try to seem more awake.
"A little sad because we're leaving but I'm glad to be dancing tomorrow," I reply, keeping my head down.
"I'm excited about the plane. All of us are on the same plane!" Pressley exclaims, all of a sudden being her normal cheery self.
"I call sitting next to you. You're the one that's gonna keep me awake when we're not sleeping," Brady jokes, and Pressley laughs.
"Why are our flights so early?" I complain as the elevator doors open.
"Because we have to be there by five, because our flight is at six, and we land at four British time, so technically, we land at eleven in the morning in Pittsburgh," Tricia answers.
"Which means that we only really have to sleep for a couple of hours so that we don't get too jet-lagged," I conclude.
"Right," Brady confirms.
When we go to the lobby, Tricia goes to check out Brady, and I see Gia and Hannah sleeping on a couch. Sarah is on her phone with some coffee, and all the moms are trying not to fall asleep, ordering Ubers at three-thirty in the morning. Mom shows up a couple of minutes later, but I go sit next to Sarah.
"Coffee?" she offers, and I decline, "Nah, but I have a question. Seatmates?"
"Oh my God, yes! I was worried I'd have to sit with my mom!" Sarah scoffs.
I watch some Tik Tok on her phone, yawning constantly. About fifteen minutes later, me and Sarah's Uber arrive, and I try my best to stay awake. I can tell the Uber driver is also very tired, and so is Michelle, and Mom. Dear God, everybody here needs some Starbucks.
I continue to watch TikTok on my phone while we drive. It's not too long to the airport, only about ten minutes, so time seems to pass by quickly. Before I know it, we arrive at the airport.
"It was probably a bad idea to drink coffee before a plane," Sarah whispers, showing me her jittery hands.
"Girl, we're getting there at eleven in the morning. Order more! Commit to this mistake! You're not going to be sleeping for at least sixteen hours," I joke, and she laughs.
I drag my bags out of the Uber and I feel much more relieved that I'm not carrying a razor through TSA. It's back in the hotel. I confidently, but weakly, drag my bag through TSA, and of course it's all cleared.
They check my passport, and I go through security. Mom gets set off by the metal detector for her necklace, but once she reluctantly takes it off, we all move forward, trying to find the International Terminal B3. Once we find it, we see Hannah, Ann, Joanne, and Gia.
"It's too early!" Hannah complains, blinking a lot to keep herself awake.
"Can you guys watch Sarah and Lilly while we get Starbucks? Do you want us to get something for you guys?" Michelle asks the four of them.
"Coffee!" Gia and Hannah whine.
"Ok, a small coffee for the two of them. Lilly, I'll get you ice water. Ann, Joanne, want anything?" Mom clarifies.
"No, no, nothing for us," Joanne answers.
Sarah sips on her coffee, and Gia and Hannah practically drool over her coffee. It's ten grueling minutes of Hannah and Gia following Sarah around as she's just peacefully trying to drink her coffee.
Suddenly, our saviors, Michelle and Mom, come with two of those trays. I see my ice water. Non-caffeinated, no calorie solution to my problem. My savior. Also, behind them, are Tricia, Ashley, Pressley, and Brady, with their fancy drinks.
I gulp down the ice water, the freezing liquid waking me up a bit. I'm still ridiculously tired, but it does make me a bit more alert. Unlike everybody else, who is now forced to live with her horrible mistake, I will be sleeping.
"If you guys complain today about being tired because we let you have coffee and you get no sleep, we'll make sure you guys are all on the bottom of the pyramid," Mom jokes.
In our delirious five-thirty state, we all start laughing hysterically. Thirty minutes until boarding. The nerves of flight takeoff hit me like a trainwreck all of a sudden, and I withdraw myself away from the group, getting a separate chair to lounge on until boarding.
I try some breathing exercises, but to no avail, my anxiety is not cured. I give the employee my boarding pass and head to the connector with Sarah. We grab some seats and both of us anxiously wait. I let her have the window seat this time.
"I have horrible plane anxiety, especially during takeoffs" I confess.
"Oh my God, same!" Sarah says, and we hold each other's hand to calm ourselves.
As the plane takes off, we both start shaking and I start to lose my breath. We hold each other as the loud roaring of the jets scares us to high heaven. We zoom off the runway and we're in the air within the next five minutes.
"Alright, it's alright, we're done. We're in the air. We have a couple of hours before we land. I'm going to go to sleep," I say, attempting to find a comfortable position.
Behind us, I can hear Hannah and Gia and their immediate regrets about drinking coffee. Brady and Pressley are next to us. They don't care. Props to them, I guess. I guess this is one of the good times my eating disorder has saved me from something bad other than gaining weight.
"Ladies and gentlemen, we have now reached 10,000 meters. You may pull out your electronics or enjoy our multitude of movies. We have our screens placed in front of you. A meal will be provided in a couple of hours. Enjoy your flight!" a flight attendant says through the intercom.
It's a struggle, trying to find the right angle. Between the loud noises, the small amount of legroom, the babies fussing, everybody talking, and Sarah bouncing off the walls watching her movies, I can't sleep.
It's no use. I'll just watch a movie to block out the noises. Maybe then I'll fall asleep. What to watch, what to watch. All they seem to have for children is Frozen. Ok, I guess I'll just watch that.
I like the movie, but everybody else seems to hate it. Sure, the songs are repetitive and everything, but the sounds of the snow whooshing and the soft guitar of Kristoff singing to his weird humanlike reindeer are soothing.
I curl up in my seat in the fetal position, resting my head against the back of the seat, listening to Anna sing about how she never knew she had eight thousand salad plates. And for the first time in forever, I manage to fall asleep on a plane.
~~~~~
"Miss? Excuse me?" I hear a flight attendant say in my direction.
I open my eyes and she is right in front of me, causing me to sit up immediately. I see Sarah wide awake, eating her food. Poor Sarah. Probably got no sleep.
"I have your meal for you. Sorry to disturb you!" she apologizes.
"No, not a problem. Thank you!" I say back, a smile on my face.
Frozen is done on the television, so I replay that. I snatch my phone. Dammit. I have to eat this meal. I can't force Sarah to gain two pounds just for my selfish needs. How do I figure out how many calories airport chicken has? It doesn't just have a label.
Next option: Google. Approximately 431 calories. I had half of an English breakfast yesterday. I can feel myself shaking. I can't eat it if I don't know how many calories are in it! What if it's made with a lot of butter or- or oil?
"Lilly, what's the matter?" Sarah asks, still eating.
"Nothing, nothing," I assure her, looking at her and then back at my food.
Ok, time to stage a scene like I ate some of it and I didn't like it. There's chicken, veggies, and a roll. Shred up the chicken, and make it look more sparse so it looks like I ate some of it. Veggies can remain untouched, and I take a bite of the roll, spit it out, and put it next to the roll. Perfect.
I've been sleeping for three hours, I guess. Time for a bit more sleep. Not too much. I still want to sleep back in Pittsburgh.
"Hey Sarah, can you wake me up when the movie is over?" I ask.
"Mhm, sure," she agrees, munching on her roll.
"Thanks!" I thank her, getting back in the fetal position.
Relatively quickly this time, I manage to fall asleep into a semi-peaceful sleep, my stomach growling profusely. It will be worth it when you get home, Lilliana. You need to lose more weight.
~~~~~
"Hey, the movie's over," I hear Sarah exclaim, tapping me on the shoulder.
I groggily wake up, hearing the credits of the movie and Sarah exhausted, but unable to fall asleep. I feel so bad for her. She got coffee because she was tired, and now Sarah has to stay awake for 24 hours plus hours to not have jet lag tomorrow.
"Too bad we can't watch Netflix on a plane!" Sarah complains, watching Frozen.
"I know right? So many movies! We only have Frozen playing for eleven hours!" I complain back, and we laugh into hysterics.
By the time we're just about to land, I have nearly memorized the entire script, including every single song, including the horrible trolls song. As the seatbelt light turns on, I suddenly get a lot more anxious, and so does Sarah.
"No, no, no, no, no, we're gonna die!" I whisper, my breath shaking, tears welling up in my eyes.
"Why did we choose each other to be on a plane with? We're the most anxious duo!" Sarah asks jokingly, trying to relieve the tension.
I laugh weakly, hearing the roaring jets get closer to the ground. I close my eyes and brace myself for a nosedive for the next ten minutes, my breath nearly escaping me. But we don't nosedive, we land just fine. We are now officially back in the US.
"We made it, Lilly. We just have to wait until we can get off, and then we'll be okay," Sarah reassures me.
I nod, let out a deep exhale to calm down myself. The plane isn't just going to explode on land. We'll be fine. I look around. The moms are fine. Pressley and Brady look exhausted, and Gia and Hannah look very cheery and peppy.
"I hope that I get some sleep. Tomorrow is going to be an absolute bloodbath for me," Sarah says, grabbing her carry-on as we go down the aisle.
"I'm sorry. If we could trade places on the pyramid tomorrow, I totally would," I comfort, grabbing my passport.
"It's okay. So we're supposed to meet everybody at baggage claim?" Sarah changes the subject, and I nod.
"A tad reckless in my opinion," I add, and she shrugs.
"Why don't we wait for Mom and Stacey?" Sarah suggests, and I nod.
"Probably a better idea," I agree, and we take some seats outside the exits.
Eventually, we find Mom and Michelle and we all walk through customs, and find everybody at baggage claim. As I wait for my bag on the carousel, I can't stop thinking about how much I weigh. I bet I'm back up to 72 or something.
You're going to have to go on a fasting spree if you gain any weight, Lilliana. I find my bag in the suitcase carousel. Mom's suitcase is dented because of course, it is. Something has to go wrong in an airport visit.
We get some more coffee for all the other moms and kids who have made the awful, awful decision to drink coffee. Just being in Starbucks is terrifying. Coffee is a fear food. And while watching someone else doesn't trigger me, because other people can drink coffee, seeing just coffee and sweets in front of me is really scary.
I patiently wait outside, unable to stand the sights of Starbucks for long. It takes a couple minutes, but everybody that wants some gets their caffeine drinks, and then we go back to our cars.
"See you guys tomorrow!" we all exclaim, getting into our respective cars.
"So now it's just over, I guess," I say, buckling my seatbelt.
"Yep. Now we get to go home and rest," Mom exclaims, turning on the car.
"Back to Pittsburgh, I guess," I whisper, pulling up Spotify to listen to Billie Eilish and Melanie Martinez.
As we start the venture back to the apartment complex, I feel very sad. Even though I was miserable physically, mentally, and emotionally, I feel like I had a pretty good time overall. Maybe, if I ever recover, I'll go back and have a better time.
It feels so weird being in sunny Pittsburgh versus cloudy London. Everything seems so much brighter, and not in a cheery way. The traffic is a lot worse in Pittsburgh than in London. But at least here is the ALDC. I'm sort of excited to go back to the ALDC and dance again.
"Since you were able to sleep, why don't we work on some tricks in the living room?" Mom suggests.
"Okay!" I say, listening to Ocean Eyes by Billie Eilish.
"Can I also do some improv?" I ask, pulling up to the parking garage.
"I think I have an old playlist laying around in Spotify," Mom trails off, and she parks the car.
I lug my suitcase and other bags up and into the lobby. The receptionist, Janette, smiles at us. I've never really gotten to know any of the other neighbors since Lifetime is only renting these apartments for five months. At least I'll get to see Elliana again.
I smile at Janette and lug my stuff into the elevator. I feel really weak. Maybe I lost some weight on the trip. I get it in the metal cube and get to the floor I live on. I drag my stuff, barely having enough strength to make it to the door.
"Welcome home!" Mom excitedly exclaims, trying to get me excited.
"We're not home. We're in Pittsburgh," I correct, and I can see her happy demeanor fall, making me regret my sentence.
"Whatever, Lilly. Just go get unpacked, and then get some dancewear on to work on tricks and improv," Mom grumbles, bringing her dented suitcase to her room.
I sigh and go to my new room. The tingle in my wrist is back. You're such a disappointment to your mother, Lilliana. Why can't you do anything right? Just kill yourself. It would make your mother so much happier.
Ignoring the death wish I practically gave myself unintentionally, I unpack everything. All my clothes go in the laundry hamper. My electronics are plugged in. My makeup, bandages, and gauze are packed in the bathroom, adding a fresh razor to my phone case, and my stuffed animal is back on my bed.
I put on a teal sports bra and black leggings. No, no, I need to cover my stomach. I pull up my leggings and grab a hoodie that I swim in. I may need to steal some safety pins from Sarah again.
I go into the living room. Mom's here. I start stretching real quick and then Mom starts naming some tricks and combos I've been working on. Two front aerial walkovers in a row. A standing front aerial walkover. Then the side aerial on my bad side. Then a tinsica into a walking stag handstand, split handstand and end with a toe rise.
After those, I roll down to your back and pop behind into an elbow stag, split, and end with a toe rise. A helicopter cartwheel. A front aerial walkover, but I land in a sitting position. A tilt, but I flex your foot at the end. Then I kneel on the ground, do a split handstand, stag handstand, split again, and lower so that I'm doing a split, but my right leg is above my elbow.
Then the turns. After warming up with a couple of turn sequences, I grab my turn board and I do two pirouettes into a double leg extension turn. Finally, I do a double back split turn and all my tricks are over.
"Alright time for some improv," Mom says, beginning to film while also getting a Spotify playlist.
Feeling Good by Michael Bublé begins to play. Some slow jazz. Plenty of high kicks and sassiness. I don't have a ton of room, so I can't do a bunch of tricks, but I manage. I look back on the footage.
"I'm impressed, Lilly! How about one more song and then I think you should do some school," Mom suggests, and I reluctantly nod, dreading going "back to school."
"I want to finish up school by nationals," I say, starting to stretch out quickly.
"You're on track to finish earlier, but your grades aren't the best. Try to pick those up, okay?" Mom asks, and I nod.
She finally acknowledges you're a dimwit, Lilliana. Finally, she'll let you go back to fourth grade. I nod and she plays the next song. when the party's over, by Billie Eilish. This has to be one of my new favorite songs. It's so sad and pretty.
This is a song that I can do more acrobatics for, more bendy flowy movements, and my goal is to never stop moving during this song. I'm always moving an arm, a leg, my head, my back, anything. It's something cool, something creative.
"That's very original, Lilly! I like it! Now, go do some schoolwork before dinner in a couple of hours," Mom instructs, turning on the TV and getting on her computer.
I smile and run back to my bedroom, fighting off dizziness from the literal run from the living room to the bedroom. How am I going to survive dance? Wait, what am I supposed to do? Oh, yeah. Schoolwork. Right before I begin English, I get a text from Ellie.
Ellie: heard your back!
Lilly: yup but im so tired
Ellie: hang out tomorrow?
Lilly: sure
I don't want to hang out with anybody anymore. I have to conserve enough energy for dancing. I don't want to use it for anything else. English is generally pretty easy for me. It's just reading and answering questions about passages, but I'm gaining an intense migraine.
I stumble into the bathroom, wanting to take some Advil, but doesn't Advil have calories? Surprisingly not. I take a pill and I feel a little better, better enough to concentrate on English. After an hour and a half, I finish up my English class.
I also have social studies. It's not my favorite class, but it's pretty easy. Learning about the War of 1812, The Civil War, and The Revolutionary War. It's pretty easy, just recalling facts, and writing one-page essays. I've virtually retained nothing, so I'm struggling.
"Who was one of the first female nurses in the Civil War?" Her name started with a C. Claire? Christina? Clara. It's Clara Barton. Why did it take me so long? It was so easy to remember things last year! It's because you deserve to be in fourth grade and not in fifth grade, Lilliana. You are dumb!
I hold my hands in my hands. If I don't finish geography, I will not be able to dance tomorrow. Quickly faced with a self-made ultimatum, I quickly wrap up my geography. It's now three o'clock, so I have three hours until "dinner."
I guess I have some time to relax. Norris Nuts it is. They're so silly, and they're good surfers, despite all of their antics. I enjoy their gaming videos too. And before I know it, time passes, and it's "dinner" time.
Excuse? Jet lag. Eat dinner, throw it up, and exercise the other half off. Cut for the guilt of eating, weigh myself, and exercise more to make up for the two weeks I barely danced. Sounds like a plan.
Salad. 51 calories. Perfect. I easily munch down the salad, almost too eagerly. Don't worry, it'll be exercised and purged up later. Mom gives me a side-eye, probably wondering why I'm eating it so quickly. I slow down a bit, but I'm still going at a very fast pace. I just want to save room for exercise.
I put my plate in the sink, say an early goodnight to Mom, and immediately go into squats. Every 25 squats, I burn 8 calories. So I need to do 1250 squats to burn 400 calories. Not nearly enough, but I have a limited amount of time.
They are grueling, so I turn on my Billie Eilish and Melanie Martinez to try to distract me. My legs still feel like jelly. 100 squats take me about four minutes, so that means that 1250 squats take me about fifty minutes. But due to fatigue, it takes me an hour in total.
1249... 1250. Once I finish counting, I immediately collapse on the bed, rubbing my legs in pain. Tears spring in my eyes and a surge of relief courses through my legs. I can barely stand, but I hobble to the bathroom.
I gain enough strength to pull out the scale and turn on the shower. I'm so nervous. What if I weigh more than 56.5 pounds? What if I'm back up to 80? I bite my lip as I hear the faint beeping. 54 pounds. 2.5 pounds lost on vacation. Not my normal 3 pounds, but I'll take it.
I eagerly throw up my salad. A nosebleed? No big deal. At least I stayed true to my no calorie limit today. But I still ate. How foolish of you to eat during a fasting day, Lilliana. So disgusting. Four cuts should be enough. Four slashes on my left wrist, going a bit farther down so I can see better. I shouldn't cover my arms, though. Too much makeup.
I shower and I brush my hair and teeth, slipping on a bismark blue t-shirt with a white elephant where my heart is, and some white shorts with some bismark blue elephants on it. I bandage up my scars, hobble back to my bedroom, and immediately fall asleep, absolutely exhausted.
~~~~~