Desolation | Teen Ink

Desolation

December 2, 2011
By Anonymous

December 2010
I wake up in the morning, forgetting who I am. Sad, that I can't remember, even more sad when I realize just who I am again. I struggle out of bed, and I can't see for a few minutes or even move due to low blood sugar. When I scratch my way to a mirror, I look at a face staring back at me. Dark circles and puffy eyelids, because I rarely ever sleep. Eyes, green and screaming for help. But I shut them, because I don't want help.
I shake, because I don't know why.
I turn around, but only to knock over an old cup of coffee that I have forgotten about, due to lack of sleep. The coffee envelops the room with a sharp, nasty, milky smell. In frustration, I take the rug outside so I can wash it later with a garden hose on the grass, but only to forget that it's the middle of winter. I shake back inside and grab a banana (105 calories,) but decide not to eat it because I don’t like bananas, and breakfast is pointless, anyway.
I remove my clothes and cautiously step onto the scale: 110 lbs.
110 is goal weight number #2. GW#3 is 105 and GW#4 is 100. I don’t even care anymore. I know once I reach 100, I’m going to want 95, then 90, then 85… I feel like this is never going to end. I feel like I’ll never be happy until I’m dead.
I think that’s true.
Rain, rain, rain, drowning me.
I sloppily straighten my hair and then apply eyeliner. Thick and black, to drain as much color out of me as possible. I dress in clothes that are too big for me. I don’t have money for new ones that fit.
I walk in late to seminary and immediately put my head down to rest. Hey, might as well use this class for SOMETHING, since it's just a waste of time regularly. I dream about miniature Rice Krispy Treats.
“Dead girl walking,” they say in the halls.
It’s not nice when girls die. No one dares to bother me, because no one really wants the dead to rise.
Black and blue and red all over, I am contagious.
I head to Drama, only to be yelled at because I didn't memorize any of my interp. I didn't memorize it because I haven't slept in four days, staying up all night doing my homework and cleaning my room out of fear and uneasiness. I want to tell her, but I don't. I just take the yelling like a man.
In band, I just sit and pretend to play and try to ignore the ignorant and child-like words the teacher could possibly say. Then he yells at me for wearing a fork around my wrist. "That's an expensive fork; it's made in Brazil!" he exclaims. It's a fork. Why do you care so much about my fork??
I walk to English. English is fine, I just suck at it.
Stupid/ugly/alone/worthless/fat/loser/lost/dead
Lunch time: it's every child's favorite time of day. Not mine. Just a time to try to ignore the smells of nasty food and try not to give in to golden chicken nuggets. I ate an orange (70 cals) and forgot the peels on the table. When I walk to math, I get called down to the attendance office. A teacher says, "Kari, come here. You know what you were called down for?" I shake my head, no. "You left orange peels on the table. Here are some gloves and I want you to clean up the entire lunchroom." You've got to be kidding me. Orange peels? An officer and three janitors eating lunch stare at me for a while, and then the officer says, "Did you do this on purpose?" I keep silent. He shakes his head in disgust. I clean the section I thought the teacher told me to clean, but then the officer says, "You've been circling this area for a long time. You still have the rest of the cafeteria." I look confused, because I'm so dizzy and can't comprehend very fast. The janitors start to laugh and imitate my face and pretend to be idiots, like me. As I walk away from them to clean more of the room, I hear them whisper. "She's so stupid." "Huhh???" "What an idiot." I'm inches away from crying but I dig the spikes of my fork bracelet into my palm. They stare at me the rest of the time.
Math. I sit and stare off into space. I can't help it. I try so hard to pay attention, but I just can't. I don't give up or in. I just can't. Then I get called on by the teacher to answer a question. I sit and look around the classroom awkwardly. People start to laugh because I do this all the time. Then boys who I thought were dumber than I am laugh and tease me for being so stupid. The teacher yells at me to pay attention. I want to scream that I can't. But I stay silent.
Stupid/ugly/alone/worthless/fat/loser/lost/dead
I walk home, to burn as many calories as possible. The trip home burns about 100 calories.
I slip into my house and notice that my parents are gone. Thank God. I rummage around the fridge and find an icy Diet Coke (0 cals.) I down it to the last drop. I love that horrible feeling it brings to my stomach.
I’m so hungry.
I pour a bowl of oatmeal (120 cals) and use water, not milk.
I waste away the night doing God knows what. I don’t even remember.
It’s midnight now and I feel like a zombie. A robot. I am numb. I have no emotion anymore. I need to feel.
The box opens and the razors slide out. All of the badness boils under my skin. Bubbling and fighting to breathe. I inscribe three lines hush hush hush into my skin. Ghosts trickle out.
I feel dizzy and feel as if I am about to faint or vomit.
A ghost finally wraps herself around me, strokes my hair, and puts me to sleep…
I am free.


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on Apr. 25 2013 at 12:59 am
miniko PLATINUM, Germantowm, Maryland
47 articles 20 photos 13 comments

Favorite Quote:
i never said most of the things i said- yogi berra

this is really amaing i feel like reading more of it...amaing job so awsome!!!