Mirror, Mirror on the Wall; Who's the Fattest of Them All?
To Weak to Die and Go To Heaven
He didn't make it up. He was gone when I woke up, shivering under the covers from the open window. I don't even remember opening it. I buried myself deeper into the warm blankets, trying to retain body heat. I felt sick.
My mother thought so, too. She made me soup and tea and made me stay in bed all say, even giving me extra blankets to keep warm. I heard how disappointed she was, though. She said it was almost ninety degrees out and her son was shivering under the covers. Although I greatly appreciated the soup, I only ate two spoonfuls of it, claiming that I didn't feel good enough to eat. She bought it. Every time she would leave the room, coming back only seconds later with crackers and more tea, I would silently laugh at how gullible she was.
I did drink the tea as I watched Disney movies all day. Shane even kept me warm as we watched Anastasia together. He couldn't stay the night, though. He said he had to go see his mother. I told him to tell her I'm sorry. He didn't say anything as he walked out.
And for the rest of the day, I just kept curled up there, shaking from sobs and the chills. I don't think he noticed, but I did. He didn't kiss my forehead or use my pet name. It tore my heart out and ripped it to shreds to think that I was right, he was only with me because he felt sorry for me.
Later that night, I had woken up from a deep sleep, sweating profusely, but shivering uncontrollably. I stumbled to the bathroom, landing with a thud on the floor in front of the toilet bowl. The little contents of my stomach came up quickly. All that tea I'd drank was mixing with the chlorinated water. It made me want to curl into a ball and die when the dry heaves began, becoming more painful than ever. Eventually I'd fallen asleep right on the cold tiles, to weak and tired to move my limbs and climb back into bed.
I thought I was dead. My dream seemed so real of heaven. It was pink and white clouds with the huge golden gates and a podium that matched in front of it. An old man with a trailing silver beard stood behind it, crossing off names as a line of people with wings flew through the gates as they opened. I noticed that I had wings, but I didn't know how to make them work. I walked to the podium, looking up at the man with tear filled eyes. I hadn't gotten a chance to say goodbye.
"Do you think you deserve Heaven?" a loud booming voice asked of me.
I looked at the man, more tears coming. I was scared. What would happen if I lied? Or the answer wasn't right? "N-no..." I stammered. "I've been a bad boy. I don't deserve anything."
I was sobbing at this point, guilty that I couldn't have done better in life and lost more weight.
"Why?"
"I couldn't lo-loose enough we-weight!" I was wailing now, afraid of what would happen. The least I could do was tell the truth, right?
"Fly."
I looked up. "What?"
"Fly."
"I... I can't!"
And the next thing I knew, my dad was carrying me to my bed. I wasn't dead. I was so happy about that. I could try again! I could try to get to perfect so maybe God would accept me!
"What's Heaven like?" I asked my Grandma later that day.
I noticed her lips tightened as she paused in her needle work. I watched to apologize and ask her to forget I even mentioned it, but she answered. "It's supposed to be a place where people go after they die. It's said to be marvelous if you haven't sinned."
"And what if you have?"
She stopped and looked at me. "What have you done?"
"Nothing, nothing. I'm just wondering. How can we know what it's like if you have to be dead to know?"
"The Bible."
"So it's like... everything you ever wanted?" I asked, thinking that this would be a good idea...
My mother thought so, too. She made me soup and tea and made me stay in bed all say, even giving me extra blankets to keep warm. I heard how disappointed she was, though. She said it was almost ninety degrees out and her son was shivering under the covers. Although I greatly appreciated the soup, I only ate two spoonfuls of it, claiming that I didn't feel good enough to eat. She bought it. Every time she would leave the room, coming back only seconds later with crackers and more tea, I would silently laugh at how gullible she was.
I did drink the tea as I watched Disney movies all day. Shane even kept me warm as we watched Anastasia together. He couldn't stay the night, though. He said he had to go see his mother. I told him to tell her I'm sorry. He didn't say anything as he walked out.
And for the rest of the day, I just kept curled up there, shaking from sobs and the chills. I don't think he noticed, but I did. He didn't kiss my forehead or use my pet name. It tore my heart out and ripped it to shreds to think that I was right, he was only with me because he felt sorry for me.
Later that night, I had woken up from a deep sleep, sweating profusely, but shivering uncontrollably. I stumbled to the bathroom, landing with a thud on the floor in front of the toilet bowl. The little contents of my stomach came up quickly. All that tea I'd drank was mixing with the chlorinated water. It made me want to curl into a ball and die when the dry heaves began, becoming more painful than ever. Eventually I'd fallen asleep right on the cold tiles, to weak and tired to move my limbs and climb back into bed.
I thought I was dead. My dream seemed so real of heaven. It was pink and white clouds with the huge golden gates and a podium that matched in front of it. An old man with a trailing silver beard stood behind it, crossing off names as a line of people with wings flew through the gates as they opened. I noticed that I had wings, but I didn't know how to make them work. I walked to the podium, looking up at the man with tear filled eyes. I hadn't gotten a chance to say goodbye.
"Do you think you deserve Heaven?" a loud booming voice asked of me.
I looked at the man, more tears coming. I was scared. What would happen if I lied? Or the answer wasn't right? "N-no..." I stammered. "I've been a bad boy. I don't deserve anything."
I was sobbing at this point, guilty that I couldn't have done better in life and lost more weight.
"Why?"
"I couldn't lo-loose enough we-weight!" I was wailing now, afraid of what would happen. The least I could do was tell the truth, right?
"Fly."
I looked up. "What?"
"Fly."
"I... I can't!"
And the next thing I knew, my dad was carrying me to my bed. I wasn't dead. I was so happy about that. I could try again! I could try to get to perfect so maybe God would accept me!
"What's Heaven like?" I asked my Grandma later that day.
I noticed her lips tightened as she paused in her needle work. I watched to apologize and ask her to forget I even mentioned it, but she answered. "It's supposed to be a place where people go after they die. It's said to be marvelous if you haven't sinned."
"And what if you have?"
She stopped and looked at me. "What have you done?"
"Nothing, nothing. I'm just wondering. How can we know what it's like if you have to be dead to know?"
"The Bible."
"So it's like... everything you ever wanted?" I asked, thinking that this would be a good idea...