Perfect This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine.

February 10, 2009
More by this author
The eyeliner makes the dark circles less pronounced. The lip gloss hides the trembling. The ponytail conceals missing patches of hair. The Abercrombie sweater covers bruises. I might look at bit thinner, but everyone will ask about my new diet. My hair might not shine the way it used to, but the pink ribbon will distract curious eyes. One hour of preparation and I look like myself. One hour of preparation and no one will know. One hour out of 24. Sometimes I wonder if it’s worth it – wasting a twenty-fourth of my day on a lie. But then I see my wispy hair and baggy eyes, and I have to do it.

Checking my makeup one last time, I push my sleeves up, though not past my elbows. I slip on a cute pair of flats – heels are too dangerous with shaky legs – and grab my Hollister bag. Padding downstairs, I inhale the scent of waffles and syrup.

“Morning, Mom,” I call.

“Morning, baby,” she chirps. “Did you sleep well?”

“Better than I have been.”

She sighs, and her eyes look a hundred years old for a minute. “Any improvement is good,” she says half-heartedly.

“Of course.”

“I made waffles.” Her offering.

“Thanks, Mom. Smells delicious.” My offering.

I sit at the table and she hands me a plate. The thought of all that food turns my stomach, but I force a smile and thank my mother again. She busies herself at the sink and fills the silence with chatter. When she turns around, she takes in the waffles still on my plate, only missing a few bites. I smile apologetically.

“I’m not very hungry this morning.”

“You’ll need your strength for this afternoon.” She bites her lip. She doesn’t like to bring it up over breakfast. I eat another bite.

“I packed your lunch.”

“I’m 18, Mom. I can pack my own lunch. You have more important things to do.”

She reaches for the paper sack. “But now I know you’ll have something to eat. And you need to eat, okay? You have to keep your strength up.”

Sighing, I take the bag. I know this peanut butter and jelly sandwich won’t be eaten, not any more than the one yesterday or the day before. And even if I do eat it, I’ll just throw it up later. Anything consumed after 11 ends up in a plastic basin at 4:07. It’s just the way it works.

“Hon, have you thought about what I said the other day?” she asks.

I shrug noncommittally.

“Sweetheart, you can’t hide this forever. Eventually you’re going to miss school and people will start asking questions.”

“Mom, I have two months left of high school. I can make it ’til then. I’m class president and probably valedictorian. I was voted ‘Most popular,’ ‘Most fun to be around,’ ‘Best smile,’ and ‘Most likely to succeed.’ I’m the girl who’s got it all together. People don’t want to know that the girl who’s got it all together, doesn’t have it all together. People don’t want to know that girl is dying!”

“Honey, don’t say that. You’re not dying.”

“Yes, I am. I have cancer. You heard Dr. Morrison. I have maybe a year left. But that means I can graduate and then never see those people again. I’ll die and they’ll feel sorry for me, but at least I won’t have to endure their pity.”

“But …,” she tries to interrupt.

“Mom, listen to me. I don’t want to be the girl everyone looks at and whispers, ‘Look at her. Poor thing, she has cancer.’ I can’t handle that. I want to be normal. Just for these last two months.”

“Okay,” she whispers. “Okay. Just remember, it’s okay if you don’t have it all together. Sometimes things just fall apart and there’s nothing we can do.”

“Thanks, Mom.” I grab my bag and lunch and kiss her on the cheek. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” my mom replies. This exchange, once taken for granted, is now a vital part of every morning, every afternoon, every night. Three little words, followed by four more, have come to mean more than an entire conversation. They bridge all gaps and disagreements, because we both know there is now a finite number left.

Keys in hand, I open the door and blink in the early morning sun. My silver car waits in the driveway and as I walk toward it, I check my reflection in the tinted window. Perfect.

This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.

Join the Discussion

This article has 823 comments. Post your own now!

Chrysy1618 said...
Aug. 20, 2012 at 1:33 am
Loved the discription in the first paragraph really sucked me into the character's world. 
KnitsandPurls said...
Aug. 17, 2012 at 12:49 pm
JRaye This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. said...
Jul. 29, 2012 at 6:43 pm
This is amazing! I wanted to cry when I finished reading it, but in a good way! Awesome job, keep writting!
. said...
Jul. 29, 2012 at 12:03 pm
This is so amazing! your a great writer!
ladybugsrock said...
Jul. 29, 2012 at 11:18 am
Wow! This is a great story! I liked how the reader felt the emotions going on as well as the main character! Great Job!
Niti-M said...
Jul. 28, 2012 at 9:21 am
so sad but brilliant.
primepower said...
Jul. 15, 2012 at 6:27 pm

This is really great!

I swear to God I was about to write a piece like this soon...

WannabeTrue said...
Jul. 13, 2012 at 8:23 am
Really liked this. It reminds me of my sisters keeper. So sad but beautiful.
AlwaysAbditive said...
Jul. 6, 2012 at 12:31 pm
Very beautiful. Please write more!
PeaceAndLove98 said...
Jun. 5, 2012 at 7:29 am
wow...heartbreaking and beautiful!
brookemister101 said...
Jun. 3, 2012 at 11:11 am
Wow. I loved it. Af first I thought it was about an eating disorder, so I was shocked about the cancer part. It was an awesome piece, although sad.
. replied...
Jul. 29, 2012 at 12:03 pm
I thought it was an eating disorder too! But it was still brilliant!
JulieKate This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. said...
Jun. 2, 2012 at 11:40 am
So powerful! 
JulieKate This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. said...
Jun. 2, 2012 at 11:40 am
So powerful! 
StillYoung said...
Jun. 1, 2012 at 9:25 am
Yeah I also thought it was about bulima as well, excellent piece though :) you should actually do a piece on like anorexia or bulima, you're really good at taking on the role of the character it seems, really well written :)
Kenziemcm13 said...
May 31, 2012 at 1:13 am
Loved it!! Your a really great writer! Could you read some of my poems and see what you think I would be honored if you would!
ShadowRealms said...
May 24, 2012 at 4:33 pm
I honestly thought she was bulemic at the beginning, but now I see why. Its an amazing article but it is incredibly sad D:
crushed_veneer said...
May 24, 2012 at 7:39 am
This is so good but so sad:(
SchWag replied...
May 24, 2012 at 2:31 pm
Aduke9 said...
May 19, 2012 at 8:24 pm
Wow...Wow...Wow. That's all I've got.
bRealTime banner ad on the left side
Site Feedback