July

Summer finally came and I had just turned 17.  Normally I looked forward to not having to wear that stupid coat Dad loved, but this year I would've killed to be able to hide in it.  Let alone fit in it.  All I wanted to do was hide away and be left alone.  I could live with people seeing the damage I was doing to my body, but I hated the comments.  People felt the need to point it out as if I didn't know what my body looked like.  Like, yes, Beatrice.  I get it.  I'm fat.  Now did you come here to buy candy or to berate me? 

Working became the worst part of my day.  Being around people was the exact opposite of what I wanted.  At least my coworkers noticed my discomfort and would let me work in the back most of the time.  Especially if a customer was being particularly rude.  Most people were kind and never mentioned it, but certain ones, more specifically, returning ones, weren't so nice.  We had a lot of returning customers who remained loyal to the business since before I began working there.  They would see the changes and scoff about it.  I suppose none of them particularly liked me much anyway, so I was just giving them more to hate on.  Literally.

With the slowly increasing summer heat, I was no longer able to hide in my many layers of clothing without sweating a whole river.  I would've saved up to buy myself some baggy summer clothing, but I spent all my spare money on binge food as a desperate attempt to not eat what Mum bought.  At the very least, I wanted to make sure my addiction wasn't affecting anyone else too much financially.  Unfortunately, it didn’t always work out like that.

"Adam!!"  Dad bellowed from the bottom of the staircase.  I was hiding in my room, trying to figure out how to knit a sweater.  Maybe I could knit one big enough to forever hide in… "Come downstairs!"

With a groan, I got up and left my bedroom for once.  Of course, I couldn't leave without my blanket wrapped around me.  I didn't care that it was humid in the house and I was already sweating.  Body image issues and my hate of looking like a man bothered me too much.

"You need something?"  I asked tiredly as I walked down the stairs.  He stood at the bottom, looking quite upset.  Oh god.  What did I do now?

"Mind explaining where the leftovers from last night went?"  He growled.  "They were supposed to be for my lunch."

"Oh, uh…"  It took me a second to rattle my brain enough to realize what I did.  Blanking out during binges was something I commonly did as a method of blocking the pain out.  It wasn't intentional by any means.  However, I could normally remember where I got the food from.  Last night I was pretty desperate and went for what was in the house, which included the leftovers.  Ashamed, I looked down and felt my face burn up.  "I'm sorry…"

"No wonder you're so damn fat!"  Dad yelled, catching Mum's attention from the kitchen.  Because of my stupid, uncontrollable actions, she had an extra job on her hands now.  "You just eat anything that's available without thinking of others!!  What the hell is wrong with you?!"

"Mark, please, I'm sure she-"  Mum butted in.  She could see that I was clearly very upset and ashamed.  

"HE!! For the last time, Matilda!  He's a man!!"

Unable to handle it anymore, I turned around and ran back upstairs into my room.  

"DON'T YOU RUN AWAY FROM THIS!!"  Dad screamed.  My heart dropped as I heard him stomp up the stairs with a loud thud! Thud! Thud!  "IT'S TIME YOU DEAL WITH YOUR ACTIONS AND FACE THE CONSEQUENCES!"

With a loud BAM, he swung open my door with such force it slammed into the wall it was hinged onto.  Shaking with fear, I sat there on my bed, huddled in my blanket.  I didn't know what to do!  Who would've thought he'd get so defensive over leftovers?!

Blinded by anger, he grabbed one of my nearby belts that rested on hooks on the wall and threatened to hit me with it.  This wasn't an uncommon punishment, but it was still scary.  That shit hurts!  Before he could give me a good smacking, Mum ran in and convinced him to leave me alone for the time being.  She talked him into leaving the room and eventually managed to calm him down.  Mum had a way with words and if she was level-headed, calming someone down wasn't that hard for her.

Knowing I would be upset, she left me alone for a bit.  Time to myself was definitely not what I needed though.  Dad's words repeated in my head.  Especially the one about being fat and not caring about others.  It made me question how much worse things had gotten.  Had I gained even more weight?  Was I eating more than I normally did in a binge?  Was I unconsciously binging more than I was aware of?  Question after question kept popping up, leading to irrational decisions.  See, I always told myself that I could deal with my weight as long as I still fit in that magnificent blue dress.  If I got to the point that it no longer fit, then I promised myself I would change.  So, as an attempt to tell myself I was okay, I grabbed that precious dress and attempted to put it on.  Horrible logic, I know. 

When I say my heart sank when I was unable to tie on the petticoat, I mean it SUNK.  Tears began welling up in my eyes as I came to the realization of how badly I let myself go.  Hopeful that I just messed up, I tried again.  Sadly, I just couldn't get the damn strings around my waist enough to tie them.  Absolutely destroyed, I quickly took it off and threw myself into bed.  I broke out into tears.  Part of me wanted to do something about it as I promised myself, but the other part of me wanted to give up and eat my feelings.  How much longer would I keep doing this?  I couldn't keep doing it!  Dad was getting more and more upset with me and I was worrying Mum to no end!  Eventually, I was going to have to stop or ask for help… But when would I?

It took me hours to stop crying.  It took another extra hour to finally get up out of bed.  This time, with a new motivation.  After running through my options many times over, I finally decided I would change.  This was it.  The turnaround point.  To make up for the previous day's binge, I would walk it off.  I made a plan that I hoped would work.  The plan was to hold off on eating for as long as I could and make sure to exercise throughout the day.  In my imagination, I would be able to hold off until supper and eat a fair amount that I burned off with exercise.  A perfect plan, right?

Apparently, I was just full of bright ideas.  That whole exercise thing?  Yea, instead I caused myself another spiral.  Now on top of binging, I had a habit of trying to burn it all off by exercising.  It would look a bit like this: begin to eat, realize what I'm doing, panic and exercise to no end, come home feeling starved, and finally, binge.  Skipping meals before supper probably wasn't helping the situation either.  No matter what I tried, I just couldn't seem to take control of anything.  All control in my life was slipping out of my hands.   And it was only about to get worse.

One hot summer day, I was doing the usual work shift at the shop.  Unfortunately, it was one of those days where I had to be in the front to help customers.  Thanks to my stupid decisions from the night prior, my legs were aching horribly.  Every step I took felt heavy and painful. That's what you get for walking 10km I guess.  To add to things, I was exhausted from lack of sleep.  Binging caused me endless hours of puking last night, resulting in no sleep.  I still felt pretty sick to my stomach, but I had to work.  

"Doing okay, Adam?"  My coworker asked with a look of concern as he passed by me.  "You look like you're going to be sick."

"I'll be fine…"  I sighed.  "I just hope there aren't any fussy customers."

"Don't we all.  Look, are you sure you're okay?  There's nothing going on at home or something you're dealing with?  A lot of us are worried about you right now."

"As I said, I'll be okay."  I nodded.  "Just got a bit of the flu."

"Awfully long flu, but if you say so…"

I smiled awkwardly.  Situations like that were always so awkward.  With a sigh, I looked around to see if anyone had shown up yet.  So far, nothing.  Maybe it wouldn't be a busy day?  That would be amazing, honestly.  I could sit at the front desk, sneak in a couple of naps, and maybe feel a bit better.  Right as I began to fantasize about the naps I desperately wanted, the bell at the front door rang, signifying someone walked in.  With a small groan and eye roll, I peeked over the shelves and saw none other than Beatrice and Angel.  Oh god, please no.  Not today.  

"Hello?"  Beatrice announced with a rather whiney and pissed-off tone.  I could almost hear that fitting theme music begin to play in the background with the sinister violins screeching about my doom.  With every step she took, I swear I could hear a tuba thumping to the beat.  

"Hey."  I gulped as I stepped out from behind an aisle.  I was literally praying that this would be a quick business and Beatrice would stay quiet.  Heck, I even tried to lower my voice for her. "How can I help you?"

The look of horror on her face when she saw me was indescribable.  Her eyes darted to my hair that was now shoulder-length, then my body, then back to my hair, then to my tired eyes.  Emerald green snake eyes pierced through my soul, making me regret my whole existence.  

"You.  You're the boy from last time!"  Her voice had gone high-pitched from disgust but also had a slight cackle.  Believe it or not, Beatrice hadn't been at the shop since November.   Candy wasn't something she was interested in.  It was usually her siblings who dragged her along against her will.  Basically, this meant she saw all the changes to me and my body in their full glory.  

"Uh, yea?"  I mumbled.  "Can I help you?"

"Getting out of my sight would be a good start."  Beatrice made a shoo motion with her hand while her nose went in the air.  "Can someone who doesn't look like they've been stuffing their face all year come and help me?  Well, my sister actually, as I don't eat candy, but you get the point."

"Beatrice!"  Angel shot her a glare.  "This young man was kind enough to offer help and that's how you treat him?  That's out of character, even for you!"

"Well look at him."  Beatrice leaned closer to her sister, trying to seem secretive even though I could hear her perfectly.  "He's obviously a tranny.  Either that or a faggot.  The hair gives it away-"

"One more word out of you and I'll make sure Mum and Dad don't pay for that maid of yours."  Angel scowled at her before turning to me with a softer expression, clearly very apologetic.  "I'm terribly sorry for her behavior.  I really am."

"Oh, it's, uh, okay."  I sighed.  This wasn't what I wanted to deal with that day.  Hearing it all made me feel sick to my stomach again.  "So… um…"

"I'm looking for peppermints,"  Angel said.  "Where could I find those?"

"Right over here."  I pointed at the nearby display.  She smiled and headed over, dragging a very upset sister with her.

"Thank you!"

The whole time he browsed for what he wanted, Beatrice kept shooting me death glares.  Occasionally her sister would notice and tell her to stop, but like a child, she continued doing so with the utmost composure. Finally, she found what she was looking for.  All I had to do was ring her up at the cash register and they could leave.  It seemed easy enough… until I felt a familiar feeling rush over my body.  Lightheadedness and weak knees, along with a nice touch of shakiness.  The warning signs hit too late and with no time to react, I leaned over and puked.  Ever so luckily for me, Beatrice happened to be close enough that a small bit splattered on her dress.   Or at least she thought some did, which was just as bad.  That's when all hell broke loose.

"You absolute pig!!!"  Beatrice shrieked.  "How dare you let your grossness splatter on my beautiful dress!!  This dress is more expensive than all your belongings put together!!"

"Oh shush."  Angel rolled her eyes, coming to my aid.  Gently, she helped me down to the floor since I was struggling to stand, and grabbed the nearby trash can for me.  "You're imagining things.  None of it got on your dress."

"Why are you helping him?!"

"Because unlike you, I have a heart!  If it bothers you so much, then step outside and wait for me!"

"Listen here, tranny."  Beatrice set her glare on me, giving me the chills.  "I WILL have you fired for this.  So don't expect to hold on to your pathetic job for much longer!"

With that, she stormed out, loudly complaining about how she was going to have to bleach her dress to make sure none of my germs got on her.  Angel sighed and gave me a sad look.

"I'm sorry about her.  Is there a co-worker nearby who can help you?"

"They're o-out back…"  I mumbled as I hung my head over the trash bin.  

Luckily for me, they heard all the screeching, and right as I finished my sentence, they came out to see who was causing the commotion.  They saw me on the ground and ran over right away.  

"Are you okay??"  One asked.

"Did you really puke on Beatrice?"  One mumbled.  "Who knew you had guts like that, Adam!"

"I'll be okay…"  I mumbled, clearly out of it.  

"I think you oughta head home,"  Angel said.  "I'm sure they don't want you making others sick, right?"

My coworkers nodded in agreement.  

"Come on, I'll help you up, and we'll get your stuff."

"Thanks…"  I mumbled.  Sadly, my biggest worry wasn't the sickness I felt.  It was the probability of me losing my job.