adjective
1. Fat
|(of a person or animal) having a large amount of excess flesh.|
I had always loved the flowers and the birds, loved the sunlight and the clouds that drift by. I had always loved the way the leaves move in a breeze and that soft whispering sound they made, like nature loved to chatter too.
Yet the emptiness that begun a while ago remained like a veil over my skin, grey and cold. And as I watched the petals and the twigs that sway outside from my bedroom window, there was only a creeping sorrow where there should've been joy. It sat like November rain on my skin, enough to chill what was once warm inside. In another life I wish I would have told my sisters how I felt, asked for help from my parents and if I had a friend I could've called, asked for the warmth I needed to ward the loneliness off, just a little would have been enough.
But it was too late.
As time went on I just let it, the pain come, drop by drop and I felt it like it is an ocean falling upon me instead of rain - that the sadness of years I had carefully suspended had all condensed right above my head into a cloud large enough to block the sun. They say it can't rain forever, that there will come a time when it must cease, that the last drop will have fallen. Thing is, I just didn't care anymore because the rain never ceased. For me it was a never ending loop just constant pouring. Until I realized it was too late for me all I wanted was to be one with the wind and disappear where no one could find me, to just stay here in the cold, comfortably numb.
Dying is a messy and often painful process, living as we do in world that is yet to embrace euthanasia. So, I wished my loved ones, would remember me as I lived. And remember that I loved them. I wished they would recall that I loved life, creation and the happiness that comes of simple pleasures. But I didn't, I hated every minute every no every second I spent on this earth. I didn't enjoy life nor did I love it's precious moments for most of my life I was a hallow figure that wondered when it was going to be time. When was I to be laid in a mahogany casket be sunk six feet under and just lay there, no pain, no exhaustion, never lonely or scared and most importantly the feeling of being empty would be nonexistent.
We all get recycled at some point. The soul moves on, the matter and the legacy remain. But I didn't live long enough to have legacy instead all I got where some crappy genes and an obsession with food which led to me being fat. I was tormented for how looked and it destroyed me and maybe they where right I didn't deserve to live, I was nothing special. So when I grabbed the bottle of pills it was my saving grace, beacon of hope, my way out of this miserable life. When they made their down my throat, it was painful yet oddly satisfying I felt at ease knowing I was going to a place where emptiness was just a word and not a feeling taking those pills meant I was going to die. What was scary was that I wasn't afraid of death what I feared was the chance of survival. I really thought I was going to die alone like some scorned dog on my bathroom floor with no-one but myself to blame. I was dying. I wanted to die for wherever I was to end up would be better than this hell. But it seemed life didn't want me go because I opened my eyes.
As I gained consciousness my head throbbed and it took seconds for my eyes to fully open and be aware of my surroundings.
"Mum, m-mum she is awake." It wasn't hard to miss that her voice was horse probably from hours of crying. Ocean my eldest sister has always been the most sensitive one in the family, well besides my mother.
The universe had to hate me because even my attempt to die wasn't a success.
"Really." Summer says and next thing I knew five bodies were all hurdled up around my recovering one.
My eyes quickly scanned the room gathering enough information for me to tell I was in a private hospital. The endless needles pricking my skin and constantly beeping of the machines. I could barely see the room because of Ocean's announcement all three of my sisters and my parents came to see or if the acclamation that I was alive was indeed true.
"Oh my poor baby." Was all mother could say before I heard her fall into a complete breakdown.
A good daughter should care that her mother was breaking down but in all honesty I didn't all I could think of was how awful hospitals smelt. The freshly painted ceiling made my stomach churn and the hospital itself smelt like a wet baby diaper. Odd comparison I suppose but it was the closest one I could think off. Funny given how it looked like a five star hotel I gathered it was would better than most hospitals but I stand corrected.
"Are you okay?" Deja said looking rather pissed unlike Ocean would had been crying, Deja my second eldest sister has always been the tougher one. If it wasn't for my oversized body looking lifeless on this small hospital bed she would have probably punched some sense into me.
"How could you even ask that? She is literally laying in a hospital bed of course she is not ok." Summer scolded her.
"Just shut up ok, I'm in panic mode you know I can't function well when I am worried."
"Goodness will you two just shut up you are confusing her with all your blabbing." Ocean shot after she sniffed for what felt like the thousandth time since I woke up.
I have been up two minutes and the were already fighting I closed my eyes wishing the coldness could consume me maybe if I shut my eyes hard enough I would slowly creep back into the darkness and never wake up.
"What blabbing, would you mind your own business Ocean." Deja spat.
Next thing I knew all three of my sisters where already shouting at each other and each one trying to speak louder than the last.
"WOULD YOU JUST SHUT UP. ALL OF YOU." My very furious father finally shouted. Making them shut up and my headache slightly less painful.
"Now all three of you out now."
"But daddy-" Summer tried to reason.
"Out." He said a little more irritated than the last and all three of them left without a word but they all shot apologetic looks at me. And death ones to each other. I feel so sorry for the other patients who haven't seen what those three can do in an argument. They better have martial arts trained nurses out there or they are about to face the wrath of the Pricce clan.
"Sweetface. I thought I would never see you again." My mum's voice cracked as she spoke she has been calling me that for as long as I can remember. But till this day I don't know why because my face is anything but sweet. Her perfectly manicured hand reached for my cheek and her diamond ring glistened at the sudden motion.
The thing was so massive it could have been easily spotted from an eighteen mile radius, it was the biggest diamond ring I had ever seen, and since childhood it had always ceased to amaze me. It looked heavy I used to think at any given moment her finger might break but my mother being my mother she wore it effortlessly and had been for the past twenty seven years.
"Lily." My father began perhaps trying to stop her from saying things like I could have died which in all honesty I might have. But his tone was as if to say she should've not said it.
"What, Grant? Your daughter tried to kill herself and you want to stand there and act as if nothing happened." She scoffed. "My baby tried to take herself away from me and you expect me not tell her that I'm hurt." She began to full on cry and her cool hand dropped from my cheek. Her icy blue eyes looked broken and where joy and happiness was had been replaced with sadness and pain.
Did I do that?
Daddy wrapped his arms around my mother as she gripped his shirt into her fist and she cried bitterly.
I looked down at the very small electrical hospital bed that was squeezing my body. I could barely see my feet from where I was laying. My fucking stomach was in the way and I felt a tear slowly fall down my cheek. Thousand of tubes where sticking through my arms many machines beeping, making every second in here torture. I wondered how many of the needles broke before they could actually get one through my fat arms. And another tear fell at the thought. Why couldn't I be created normally like my very tall, lean and beautiful mother or even living cardboard copies of her like my sisters.
The painful moments came back flooding to me.
The bottle of pills.
The letters I had written one for mum and another for my father and each one for my sisters.
And the clicking sound of the bathroom door after I had locked it.
"I'm sorry." I whispered. But both of my parents heard me. But I wasn't sorry that I tried it I was sorry that it didn't work. Maybe if I had died they would have grieved me and somewhere along the line I would have been forgotten.
"It's not ok, I will not tell you it's ok because it's not, but I love you so much I love you so sooo, much sweetface and don't you ever try and do that again ever- understand."
Talking it out seemed pointless so all I could do at this point was nod.
"That's not an answer, I said understood." She said looking directly at me.
I stared back at her I couldn't make such a promise one I knew I wouldn't be able to keep so instead I looked away. I could hear her soft sobs.
"Come on Sweetface please." She begged but I didn't respond.
She sat down next to me and she held my baby fat looking hand tightly into her smooth, lean hand while my father held her shoulders and looked at us worriedly. I stared at their reflections from the window but I could bare to look at them. A doctor walked in and a two nurses and they broke the uncomfortable silence.
"Miss Pricce glad to see you could join us." He smiled and looked at me.
"Feeling better?"
I stared at him and didn't reply him.
"Well you just woke up from a coma so maybe you aren't up for conversation yet." He nervously said.
"She just woke up so maybe that's why isn't chatty." My mother said in between her sobs as she rubbed my forearm.
He gave her a tight smile in agreement and went on to look at his clipboard. He had that facial expression one couldn't easily read. It was that face that tells one that there is problem. Question is can it or can it not be fixed?
"Mr and Mrs Pricce could I speak with you for a moment."
"Yes of course." My father replied.
"I will be right back." Mum squeezed my hand tighter and kissed my temple gently before leaving me with a bunch of unnamed faced hovering over the beeping machines.
The nurses tried to engage into small talk with me but I turned my head the opposite direction and never uttered a word to them. They quickly picked on it and they both kept quiet. All I seemed to be good for was crying like a pathetic little kid. I looked around at the large room, spacious decorated with vases that probably cost more than life itself. Paintings? Really why would they have paintings in a hospital room, even if it was for the rich I sometimes felt like others just did a bit too much. But even the extravagant pieces of extremely expensive hospital paintings couldn't stop my brain from hearing the voices.
All I could hear where the voices I had been hearing right before I had picked up the bottle of pills.
"Watch your step Eli-phant might be to big to start an earthquake."
"I heard she raids the vending machine during her free time."
"She is so big she only gets her clothes customized."
"I heard she can only get clothes at the men's section, that's why she doesn't wear dresses."
"Apparently she eats everything, even dog food."
I could still hear their laughs filling each and every corner of the halls. The notes I used to get with drawings of me being to big to fit through the door where still vivid.
The thoughts of how I had rotten food stuffed in my locker or dumped on my desk because apparently I ate soo much that could eat anything. I had dog food, cat food and any kind of animal food thrown at me when I passed by. People made funny noises when I walked past them, some imitated the way I walked. And each and every obscure smell that developed anywhere even if I wasn't there it was pinpointed to me.
My damn name was incorporated with the word elephant from the fifth grade and that name had suck till now, half of Garfield Prep didn't even know my name I was unanimously known as Eli-phant. One would think what could be worse than being known as the fat girl right? What's worse is being known as the fat girl who has the name Eliphant, not one of them even knows my name I mean what is so damn hard in knowing that my name is Ellie.
So there you have it what was the point of me living if I wasn't even alive?
Dying had seem like such a luxury. What was the point of living without even being able to breathe? I wasn't a normal teenager at five foot two I weighed a staggering two hundred and sixty-five pounds. I was a foodaholic. My very own eating disorder so just because I wasn't a slim fit or built to have a banging bikini body they tormented me, called me names, laughed at me some even went the extra mile to pull pranks that sometimes ended up physically hurting me. Having a multi-billionaire father or the world's most famous fashion icon as a mother didn't matter. Being rich didn't count and even though every single soul at that horrid school was basically a trust fund idiot it didn't help having well known and richer parents than anyone. My eldest sister Ocean had a fair share of her face being constantly plastered on television screens, covers of vogue magazine and the press was always hot on her heels but that too didn't matter. Because even that couldn't save my life.
But not once did I utter a word to a soul I didn't tell anyone how I treated at school. I couldn't take it anymore I just couldn't sometimes I felt as if I was breathing borrowed air, that the air wasn't meant for me so dying had seemed like the only way out. I couldn't take being fat anymore I just couldn't.
I was told that I was to be transferred home so that I could get whatever care I needed from there. A few hours later I was informed that I had been in an induced coma for five days, my stomach had been pumped not once not twice but thrice and I knew that the moment I left those doors my life wasn't going to be the same ever again.
All my sisters walked beside my wheelchair silently and I wondered what they were all thinking, they probably would have been sad at the beginning if I had died but they would quickly recover it's not like was bringing anything to the table here. I mean Ocean had to stop her world tour for this crap and Deja was at school, Summer was in the Caribbeans taking her photography seriously and they all came back for what? For me? I shouldn't have been wasting their time all I did was eat that's what I seemed to be good at.
"Don't you ever try and leave." Ocean sobbed.
"She means it Ellie if anything I should die before you." Summer offered a small smile.
"Would you two stop babying her, if anything I will kill her myself as soon as we get home for pulling that stunt on us." Never take threats lightly with Deja she actually follows through with them.
As the doors opened my mother placed her over sized Dior glasses back on probably to protect her eyes from the flashing lights that are going to start at any given moment. My father placed his hand at the small part of her back over her slick black fur coat.
"Here we go again." Summer muttered as we stepped onto the hospital pavement.
"Lily LeClaire, Lily LeClaire over here over here." The paparazzi shouted.
"Grant Pricce any words." Another shouted. The body guards tried their best to stop them from tramping all over us, well over Ocean and mum and dad really.
"Ocean will you be returning to the tour or this is it?"
The blinding lights kept on flashing as the security tried its hardest to keep them from reaching any closer than they had been. Two black sleek Lexus SUVs were parked at the end of this never ending stair case. The doors were already opened for us and I got in and I sat at the back of the first car my father and mother entered in the same car and my sisters took the other car.
Dad shouted over his ear piece the entire way back, he was going on about how non of those pictures where to see the light of day and for the hospital not being able to turn the paparazzi down. To be honest the place looked more like a five star hotel rather than a hospital and it kind of freaked me out a bit.
Mom kept on glancing at the rear-view mirror to see if I was ok after every five minutes she had removed her glasses the moment we entered. The identical car trailed behind us and assumed Deja was the one driving it. Dad was driving ours no matter how rich the man was he was stubborn and he always taught us whenever we could do something as simple as driving ourselves we should do, never always relay on people once in a while driving ourselves wouldn't hurt. Although he was driving he had been investing more of his attention into sorting out the hospital issue rather than driving.
I had done this to my family my ever laughing father was practically screaming on top of his lungs, my clam mother looked more worried than I had ever seen her and my obnoxious older sisters all cringed and cried over the thought of me taking my life. And that was it, I had had enough of the bullies at Garfield prep I had just had it, if anything this scandal was an awakening call. I had to put an end to all of them those asshole jocks and slutty cheerleaders had been bullying me and even the bystanders the ones who always watched and laughed and did nothing but spread lies about those who where different. I wasn't the only victim here I had seen others being taken advantage of.
When will it ever end the constant name calling, the pushing, shoving and being labeled as an outcast.
I had always told myself that soon it would be over, that college was within reach but what if the college kids are worse than the middle school and high school kids . Then what would I do then?
My fat fist was already curved into a ball as I looked outside the window and anger rushed through my veins and tears began to build at the corner of my eyes. Not only were they breaking me the results of what they did to me affected my family and the people I actually loved all because I was a few sizes bigger than the average sixteen year old in Los Angeles California.
I have do something I don't know what it's going to be but anything at all to make sure that each and every shitty little spoiled brat that made my life a living hell suffer. I want them to feel the pain they had caused me for the past twelve years and I have a feeling that they won't be able to handle it. But then only then would they know that's how they made me feel for all those years. How they made us feel I will not only do this for me but for all those that have been treated like me.