‹ Prequel: Ana
Sequel: Relearning Laura ›
The "You're Not Fat" Campaign
Scream A Little Louder
I am sitting on the couch when Rick pulls back into the driveway.
"Hey," I say as I slide into his car.
"Hi. I thought your mom was coming home?"
"She did. She picked up Meg and Chloe like five minutes ago, she was taking them to a movie."
Just then, Mom pulls up to the house. I feel a sinking sensation in my stomach. Rick glances at me.
"They must have forgotten something," I say. "Park?"
"Sure."
We drive to the park and get out of the car and walk around. I feel dirty from purging. I just want to go home and shower and crawl into bed and cry.
Walking burns calories, Laura.
Never mind. I want to walk.
Rick stops and leans down and kisses me. I kiss him back, forgetting about the taste that still lingers in my mouth. I brushed my teeth after I threw up, but the vomity flavor remains lodged in the back of my throat. Rick pulls away, making a face.
"Laura, are you sick?" he asks.
"What? Why?" I say, trying to play off the innocent thing.
"You... Okay, sorry, this is gross, and I'm not trying to be mean, but you tasted like... You tasted like puke." My stomach drops. I don't say anything. I tug away from him and sit on the nearest park bench.
"Laura, what's going on?" Rick says gently. "I won't get mad at you. I won't yell. You just need to tell me what's going on. Is everything okay?"
Yes.
"No," I whisper. The word barely escapes my mouth, but I still manage to utter it. Rick sighs. He looks very very sad.
"Laura, please. Tell me what's going on."
Don't you dare.
I sink down lower on the park bench, pressing my arms against my massive stomach. I cannot look at Rick. I will not look at Rick. I know that if I do I will start crying and not be able to stop.
"Laura."
"No," I say, suddenly very angry. My hands are clenched into tight fists and my face burns coldhot.
"What do you mean, no?" Rick asks. I glare at the ground.
"No. I will not tell you what's going on because nothing's wrong. NOTHING IS WRONG. Okay?" I spit. Rick stares at me.
"Clearly something's wrong," he says. I shake my head - an action that I immediately regret, because it makes the world spin and my head feels alarmingly light.
"No."
You need to get out of here, Laura. Run off that nasty Italian food and get away from Rick and his horrible questions and just get away!
"Laura, you have to tell me what's going on," Rick insists, his voice urgent and low.
"NO!" I scream, a sob ripping out of my throat. I turn and run as fast as I can. The skirt of my dress flaps behind me as I sprint away from Rick. I can't see anything. My eyes are blurry with tears.
Strong arms wrap around my waist and I am lifted into the air. I scream and flail and sob but Rick doesn't let go of me. All strength seems to have left my body. I slump against Rick's chest and he holds me close.
"Laura, it's going to be okay."
I just need to scream a little louder.
I need to open my mouth and let out a huge full throated scream because it is loud and painful and everything inside me is loud and painful.
I just want to die.
It will never be okay.
"Hey," I say as I slide into his car.
"Hi. I thought your mom was coming home?"
"She did. She picked up Meg and Chloe like five minutes ago, she was taking them to a movie."
Just then, Mom pulls up to the house. I feel a sinking sensation in my stomach. Rick glances at me.
"They must have forgotten something," I say. "Park?"
"Sure."
We drive to the park and get out of the car and walk around. I feel dirty from purging. I just want to go home and shower and crawl into bed and cry.
Walking burns calories, Laura.
Never mind. I want to walk.
Rick stops and leans down and kisses me. I kiss him back, forgetting about the taste that still lingers in my mouth. I brushed my teeth after I threw up, but the vomity flavor remains lodged in the back of my throat. Rick pulls away, making a face.
"Laura, are you sick?" he asks.
"What? Why?" I say, trying to play off the innocent thing.
"You... Okay, sorry, this is gross, and I'm not trying to be mean, but you tasted like... You tasted like puke." My stomach drops. I don't say anything. I tug away from him and sit on the nearest park bench.
"Laura, what's going on?" Rick says gently. "I won't get mad at you. I won't yell. You just need to tell me what's going on. Is everything okay?"
Yes.
"No," I whisper. The word barely escapes my mouth, but I still manage to utter it. Rick sighs. He looks very very sad.
"Laura, please. Tell me what's going on."
Don't you dare.
I sink down lower on the park bench, pressing my arms against my massive stomach. I cannot look at Rick. I will not look at Rick. I know that if I do I will start crying and not be able to stop.
"Laura."
"No," I say, suddenly very angry. My hands are clenched into tight fists and my face burns coldhot.
"What do you mean, no?" Rick asks. I glare at the ground.
"No. I will not tell you what's going on because nothing's wrong. NOTHING IS WRONG. Okay?" I spit. Rick stares at me.
"Clearly something's wrong," he says. I shake my head - an action that I immediately regret, because it makes the world spin and my head feels alarmingly light.
"No."
You need to get out of here, Laura. Run off that nasty Italian food and get away from Rick and his horrible questions and just get away!
"Laura, you have to tell me what's going on," Rick insists, his voice urgent and low.
"NO!" I scream, a sob ripping out of my throat. I turn and run as fast as I can. The skirt of my dress flaps behind me as I sprint away from Rick. I can't see anything. My eyes are blurry with tears.
Strong arms wrap around my waist and I am lifted into the air. I scream and flail and sob but Rick doesn't let go of me. All strength seems to have left my body. I slump against Rick's chest and he holds me close.
"Laura, it's going to be okay."
I just need to scream a little louder.
I need to open my mouth and let out a huge full throated scream because it is loud and painful and everything inside me is loud and painful.
I just want to die.
It will never be okay.