I Measure My Self-Worth by the Numbers on the Scales

Frank’s P.O.V:

“I love you.” Mom called sadly, sounding like a songbird with one last song to sing.

I sniffed to myself as I watched her walking away. The lady beside me placed a hand on my shoulder and rubbed it comfortingly. But I shrugged her off irritably. I didn’t want a stranger feeling sorry for me. She just stood beside me and waited until I turned to face her.

“Are you ready?” She asked patiently.

I took one last lingering look at the road that the silver car had driven off down before nodding. She smiled and gestured me to follow her. I followed her, starting with my right foot.

“I’m Clare by the way.” She said, tossing her short brown hair.

“Hi I’m Frank.”

“I know.”

“I know you know.”

She laughed and said she knew I knew she knew. And I didn’t reply. I was hardly in the mood for stupid little games. There was a silence between us until I asked where we were going. She smiled and said she was showing me to my room. So I shrugged.

The walk took us up a flight of stairs and through endless mazes of corridors. I jumped as one of the doors was thrown open and a girl walked out. She was really slim and had long blonde hair. Her eyes were sparkling blue. She smiled at me and nodded. A shy smile was my reply. I wondered if the smile was to conceal a smirk as she saw the fat kid waddling after the woman in front. I’ll admit that I’m not a lump of lard but I don’t look the way I wish I could. I’m not skinny.

“This is it,” Clare smiled, stopping in front of a door “You’ll be sharing with someone else, will that be ok?”

I shrugged and she pushed the door open. My right foot was the first to step over the threshold as I entered the room. There were two bunk beds and each had a dresser beside it. There were two desks made of synthetic wood beside each other. The walls and carpet were dark blue and the bed sheets were all a navy colour. It seemed this place was obsessed with the colour blue. A black bag had been left on one of the bunks. I assumed the other person was already here.

“Frank?”

“Mm?”

“Do you mind being weighed?” Clare asked almost apologetically.

“Yes.”

“Because we need to know how much you weigh.”

“I don’t like being weighed.”

“None of the other kids will know. It’s just gonna’ be kept on file.”

“Please don’t make me.” I half begged.

“We have to, Frank.”

“I really don’t want to.”

“I understand but we really need to know.”

I sighed heavily and hung my head in defeat. Clare looked sympathetic as she gestured to the door. My right foot made the first step to follow her as she held the door open for me. I kept my head down miserable as I followed her. She took me down the hall to a white door with a hand-made plaque that said 'Weighing Room'.

It felt like I was gonna' puke from nerves. Clare knocked politely and poked her head around the door. There was a quick conversation and then a woman with blonde hair down to her shoulders and shining brown eyes stepped out. She smiled warmly at me.

"I’m assuming you’re Frank? Nice to meet you, my name’s Hannah."

"Hi." I replied politely.

Someone stepped out behind her. A guy a few years older than me. He had black hair, which he hid behind shamefully, and empty hazel eyes that perhaps were once filled with laughter. He looked like a sad, lonely little boy. He was eye-poppingly skinny and I couldn't help but feel a teensy bit jealous of him.

For a moment, we both stared at each other. He was so good-looking. I felt incredibly awkward as he looked me up and down. Almost as if he were judging me. I twitched my fingers awkwardly as he stared at me. I finally managed to bring myself to give him an awkward smile and then shuffled into the room after Clare.

"These are the scales." She said, gesturing to them.

I felt like I was gonna' hurl. She was explaining how they work and what we were gonna' be doing but I wasn't listening. It took me a moment to realise that she was asking if I was ok. I blinked and looked down at the scales through watering eyes.

"I can't do this."

"Of course you can." She encouraged.

"I can't, I really can't do this."

"Ok, look, Frank," She began gently, placing both hands on my shoulders and looking closely at me "If you could please do this for me now, I understand it's hard for you. “ . . .

. . . “When you look at yourself in the mirror, what do you see?”

I stared hard at myself, trying to think of how to put it. She looked at my reflection in the mirror, making me feel self-conscious. I was shivering in my thin underwear with Clare standing beside me.
“I can see that I’ve lost a little weight, which makes me happy, but I can see there’s definitely room for improvement. Just a few more pounds and I’d look fine.”

“Well, do you know how much you actually weigh, Frank?”

“No but I bet you’re gonna’ tell me.”

“You only weigh sixty pounds, Frank.” She informed, causing me to choke on nothing as I struggled back into my clothes.

“You’re not serious?”

“Yes, Frank, and that’s unhealthy for your age,” She explained “We’re going to help you get over this. You have something called Anorexia Nervosa. When you look in the mirror, you see distorted images and become fearful about gaining weight.”

I listened carefully, still in shock from what she’d told me my weight was. How could I weigh that little? There was no way, was there? I looked up at my face in the mirror. Pudgy little baby cheeks stared back and a round belly showed through my shirt, not enough to make it strain but enough to show. She was lying. She had to be.

“Would you like to go and get settled into your room?”

“Yes please.”. . .

. . . He was looking out the window when I entered the room. My right foot went first over the threshold as I entered. There was a blur of black as he spun around to face me. His hands were rubbing together in front of him. He looked mortified as I noticed and he quickly snatched something off of the windowsill and tucked it into his back pockets. I smiled politely.

“Hi, I’m Frank.”

“Gerard.” He replied curtly, sweeping over to the bunk beds and jumping onto the bottom one.

“I guess I’m top bunk then.” I said, trying to strike up a conversation.

“Yeah, I guess you are.”

I sighed inwardly and lifted my bag onto the top bunk, clambering up on top and sitting cross-legged, staring at my hands. All I was trying to do was get to know this guy. As a friend of course, there was no way he’d be into guys. But I’m not either.

“So, you’re here ‘cause they think you’re too skinny?” He mumbled from below.

“Um. . . yeah. You?”

“I’m not skinny enough.” He said bitterly.

“Are you kidding?” I questioned, leaning over the edge to look at him “You’re so skinny. I wish I could look like you.”

“But why?” He demands “I’m the fat freak of a doormat that the other kids used to mock in the locker rooms.”

“That’s horrible,” I sympathised “Is that why you’re here, then? I mean. . . y’know, anorexic?”

“I’m not anorexic. I collapsed last week and they think it’s ‘cause I’m not eating enough. It’s just ‘cause I was taking so many laxatives.”

“Oh.” I replied, uncertain of what to say.

“They make you. . .um. . . go to the bathroom.”

“I know what a laxative is.”

“Good. I really didn’t want to go into detail.”

I smiled, encouraging him to smile too. He looked nicer when he smiled. His empty eyes sparkled as he did so. He looked like some kind of broken angel.