Skinny Love

I was walking the halls in my oversized sweatpants and sweatshirt, barefoot and my hair was tangled and dirty. I walked around with a shirt Tommy gave me years ago just because it smelled like him still.

"Issabelle." There's that voice again. "Issabelle? Issabelle?!" Huh? I turned to look at the person calling my name. "Yes." I softly said. "Your parents are here to see you."

My parents? The lady grabbed my hand and led me down the hall. We stopped at a door and the lady pushed it open.

"I find her, she was walking down the C hallway." I looked around the room, trying not to look at them. Finally I had to. My mother was in tears, while my father was trying to calm her down.

"Please sit Issabelle, we have some good news." The lady who found me said. I sat across from my parents.

"Mom," I softly whispered. My father spoke instead. "Issabelle, we sent you here to get better for being...anorexic." He hates that word. "And you've gotten so much better, but now you seem to have gone into depression and the nurses have done all that they can but they just can't treat you here so, we've decided to take you home. Although there will be some rules, one you have to get weighed weekly and you have to weigh in at atleast 125, two you have to go to a therapist every other day, and finally you are going back to school, no more home schooling."

Finally my mother spoke. "And daddy and I are going to try to be home more often. We're going to be better parents." Too late, I'm alread screwed up.

My parents stood up and came over to me. I stood as well. They hugged me and I could feel the tears falling on my shoulders.

I didn't want to go home, what is home? I don't want to be srrounded by maids and servants that didn't care for me, I don't want to be reminded of my past life. Of memories were George and I shared childhood memories, or where Tommy and I fell in love at.

***

I was home, in a bed that was in a room that I should call mine, but I couldn't. My bed was back in a place where twenty other girls resided at.

It was eight a.m. I lie awake, starring at my ceiling. I'm starving, I should probably eat something, but that would mean coming out of room and having the help look at me in odd ways.

I pushed the covers off my body and got out of bed. I stuck my head out of the door and listened for a second. It was quiet. I silently went down to the kitchen and heard someone rumiging in the cabinets. Oh great.

I walked in and saw and muscular tan body.

George? I didn't say anything and just went over to the fridge. Of course it made a sound. Thanks. George screamed and turned around.

"What the hell?!" He shouted. "It's just me." I said not looking at him. "I didn't know they let crazy people out of the crazy house." I rolled my eyes. Lame. I pulled out some cherries and wentver to the cabinet and got a small bowl. I dumped a bunch of cherries into it and tossed them back in the fridge.

"I see you're still mad at me." I said as I began to leave the kitchen. "Not mad just dissappointed." I stopped, I began to say something but decided against it.

It was going to be a long weekend till George went back to college, if this is how things are going to be.