I was curled up in a ball on the couch next to my dad. The amount of food entering my system all at once shocked it and made me puke it all back up. And I mean all of it. I didn’t even have to try!

“Feeling any better?” Grammy asked after cleaning up the mess I made. Well, it was technically the mess she caused, but I won’t argue it.

I shook my head. My stomach was still cramping and I was nauseous. Grammy sighed guiltily.

“I’m sorry, dear. Perhaps I did force too much on you…”

“I-it’s ok…” I whimpered. 

Gramps was on the other side of me testing some things. Since he used to be a doctor he knew to test things like blood sugar. Apparently I wasn’t looking good to him.

“David, I think you oughta take her to a doctor soon.” Gramps said, also worried. Everyone was just in the living room all stressing out over me. I hated it.

“I know, dad. I’ve already booked one, but the soonest they have is months away!”

“I don’t think she can afford to wait that long,” Gramps said, shaking his head.

“No kidding,” Grammy agreed. “Maybe start with a dietitian. Fixing her eating would be a good start.”

Dad sighed and I felt the guilt settle. I was just stressing him out. I was being a burden to everyone. 

“Sweetie, are you sure you won’t take a ginger ale?” Grammy asked me. Usually it worked on sick people, but soda wasn’t worth the calories right now. “It’ll make you feel better.”

I insistently shook my head no.

“Could you eat something else then?” she asked with a worried expression. I shook my head and almost everyone sighed. “Dear, just something like crackers would help you feel better…”

I shook my head no. I couldn’t do it. I wouldn’t allow it.

“Have you had anything else to eat today?” Gramps asked gently. I silently turned my glance to the ground. “Diane?”

“…No.”

“Oh my god Diane!” Grammy cried, jumping to her feet. “You have to eat something! You’re getting some food before you leave this house!” Immediately fear seized my body that she’d forcefully shove food down my throat again. I started to tear up.

“Mom, I know you’re just as worried as me, but she just puked!” Dad reasoned. “I don’t think she wants to eat anything right now.”

“D-dad…?” I asked weakly. I was scared of having to eat again and just wanted to go home and sleep. “C-can we g-go home…?”

“Yeah, we should probably go,” sighed Dad. “Jack, Bella, you ready?”

They both nodded and helped me out of the living room. I was so shaky that I had to lean on Jack for support. Dad wanted to stay behind to talk to my grandparents. The three of us could hear them arguing about me.

“I guess they’re really upset, huh?” Bella pointed out.

“No kidding,” replied Jack. “Oh, Diane, so you want help with your jacket?”

I was struggling to lift my arm through the sleeve, and he helped me. I thanked him.

“Let’s just go to the car,” Jack said, dropping the joking attitude. “I don’t want to be around if they start fighting.”

“You mean you wouldn’t wanna join?” Bella joked. Jack smiled.

“Ha, no I like to cause trouble, but this one’s out of my league. Let’s go.”

We headed to the car and waited for the three adults to stop arguing. I don’t know how it ended, but the car ride home was very silent, with a cranky Dad at the wheel. The only noise was the soft tunes of the Christmas radio, but that got shut off after hearing the same song four times in a row. The Christmas spirit was fairly low right now.

*   *   *   *   *

When we got home that night I went straight to bed, but Dad stopped me. He wanted to sit down and talk. I knew what it was about and didn’t want it, but I could only prevent arguing by just doing what I was told.

“So,” he started with a heavy sigh. “Eating. We should work on that. Agreed?”

“I’m fine,” I lied.

“Diane, I’m not stupid,” he said sternly. “I know you’ve been skipping meals. But this is too out of hand now. You have to start eating more.”

I just stayed silent, not wanting to risk another argument.

“Would seeing a dietician or therapist help?” he asked. “Bella’s come to me saying she’s worried you’re anorexic. Whether you see it or not, people are worried about you.”

“I’ll fix it on my own, alright?” I lied. “I don't want to talk about it with anyone. Now can I go to bed? I feel sick again.”

“Alright,” he sighed, knowing he wasn’t going to win this one. “I hope you feel better tomorrow. Just… I’m always open to talk if you need it, okay? Don’t forget it.”

I nodded before retreating to my bedroom. I flopped into my bed and wrapped myself in the many warm blankets. Almost instantly, I fell asleep.