New story :] Now called "Don't Forget Me"
 

I decided I would start a new story to make myself ridiculously cool..I'd love to know what you think :eyeroll: and if I should continue.

I'm not sure why the beginning bit is in bold..it won't go away =P


Chapter One



As the rest of my family tucked into their sausages and chips on the sofa, I remained at the dining room table across the room, pushing my food around the plate and willing my brother to focus on the television rather than what was on my fork. After what felt like a lifetime, he diverted his eyes to the screen, where my parents’ eyes were also glued. Quickly, I slipped a small handful of chips into my pocket and pushed the rest around my plate again.


Slowly I cut up both of my sausages in half. In half again. And again. I kept cutting them up until each piece was smaller and thinner than a pound coin. These were easier to hide. I dropped them down my sleeves and dropped some more chips onto the floor, complaining about how I couldn’t eat them now and left the room with my plate to scrape the rest of the food into the bin.

This is getting far too easy, I thought. Or that’s what my head told me, I don’t know. It was getting harder and harder to decipher what were my thoughts and what were the thoughts of the voice.


Upstairs, I snuck into the bathroom and carefully took the food out of my pockets, holding my breath as not to be tempted, whilst wrapping the food in tissue and dropping it in to the water. Pulling the lever, I washed my hands three times to make sure every calorie had been washed away with the water and checked the toilet to make sure every scrap had disappeared.

I smiled to myself as I watched the clear water ripple, then stood there for a few more minutes so no evidence of my illness came back. Once I was satisfied that it was all gone, I tip-toed across the landing into my parents room and quietly searched through the drawers under their bed to reveal the scales they had so ‘cleverly’ hid from me. Removing them, I went back into my room and locked the door behind me, putting the scales in the middle of the floor and removing the many layers of clothing keeping me warm for the day. Stepping on, I willed the numbers would have gone down from the last time I had weighed myself, two hours before. Inevitably it had not, but my mood was still good from the fact I had lost 1lb since the day before.

Better than nothing, I had said to myself. But not as good as 2lbs, my head had rudely answered back. I’ll lose 2lbs for tomorrow, I thought to myself and set about my hidden exercise videos after I had returned the scales to their original place. Turning the volume right down so I could scarcely hear it, I put on the 45-minute workout and began to work up a sweat. After about half an hour, the fast I had been on for the past three days began to catch up with me; my breath was hard to catch and I saw little black spots in my line of vision. Keep going. I kept going. Work harder. I worked harder.

After what felt like a lifetime, the video ended and I moved towards the TV to switch it off. Hiding the video under my bed beneath a pile of clothing that no longer fitted, I got a glass of water from the tap in the bathroom and switched on the shower. Even though I was still sweating, goose bumps were noticeable on my arms and I turned the temperature on the shower up until steam filled the entire bathroom. Jumping in, the scald felt good against my icy skin and I spent much longer in there than originally planned. Eventually, my mother started banging on the door, shouting my name and asking if I was all right. I awoke from my daydream and switched off the shower, wrapping my towel around me and gathering up my clothes.

“Just a minute,” I called to my mother who was impatiently tapping her foot outside. She can wait. I turned to the sink and took my toothbrush out of the cup on the side. I heard her walk away and I began slowly brushing my teeth, taking as much time as I could, making sure I was thorough. It was very rare I wasn’t under the watchful eye of my parents, it surprised me they hadn’t disabled the lock in my bedroom. Perhaps their parenting books had told them I needed my privacy. Suited me just fine.

I finished brushing my teeth and looked in the mirror, scrutinising every single part of my face. The imperfections screamed at me to fix them. The bags under my eyes showed the sleepless nights I had suffered. I continued to stare at my own worst enemy in her self-destructive state and slowly the black dots I had seen after my workout reappeared. I tried to ignore them, but they quickly doubled in size, then again. I became light headed and I grabbed onto the sink for support, but my thin, brittle fingers easily slipped away and the floor came rushing up to meet me.

Damn..no one? =P
That's mighty lonely XD

tis good huni - would love to see more!!!

I loveee this :D xxxx

Wow I have only just seen this but I love it

This is very good. I would love to see more. I particularly like the style this is written in. More please!

Please write more! This was amazing.

oooooo please right more =) xxx

bumpppppp x x

Thanks, kids :3
I'll be writing some more tonight and tomorrow so hopefully I'll get some on here on either tomorrow or Monday..I've been very busy, so XD
Hehe.

Ooooo I love this! =D *Sits impatiently*

Bumppppp!

DAMN IT.
You impatient kids are going to have to wait another day or two =P
A load of stuff has come up which makes poor Nic very busy.

But I'll write some more :]

Actually, things weren't quite as bad as I thought :]
Here's the next installment:


Chapter Two


“Keira?” I heard my mother’s voice repeating my name as her face slowly swam into focus. I blinked a few times before I could properly see her staring down at me with tears in her eyes and her hand tightly wrapped around mine, then closed my eyes again. “I thought we’d lost you there,” she said, squeezing my hand. “But we’re going to get you the help you need now.”

That last sentence made my eyes snap open and I recognised the sound of an ambulance siren in the distance, several roads away from me. It’s coming for you. I snatched my hand back, tried to sit up, but my mother hushed me and pushed me gently to the position I was in to begin with. Gently, but with a reasonable amount of force, she held me there. I was too weak; too tired to fight back, so I stayed there without more fuss. After she realised I wouldn’t try to move, she lifted my arm and ran her fingers along it, stroking the scars and cuts; some a few weeks old; others, just a few hours. I flinched and tried to pull away from her, but she tightened her grip and tried to soothe me with her words. “I’m sorry I never noticed before. I’m sorry I didn’t realise you needed help.” I opened my mouth to protest against my ‘needs’, but she continued, “We’re going to get you what you need now, don’t worry. How long has this been going on?”

I wasn’t going to answer, but before I even had a chance, the doorbell rang. My mother shot down the stairs to answer it and in her absence, I could slowly feel my eyes closing again. I couldn’t force them open again, so I just listened to the voices around me instead. A paramedic asked my mother what my name was. Keira. Just Keira. Don’t forget me. Keira. Keira. He kept repeating my name, told me his was John. I tried to answer. My throat was dry. Tell them you’re fine. You’re okay. They don’t have to be here. Keira. I’m okay. Don’t worry about me. I couldn’t say it out loud. My eyes flickered and I tried to sit up again. John didn’t stop me, but slowed me down and eased my into an upright position. “Easy,” he said.

Then he beckoned a woman paramedic to my side and they both gently lifted me up and placed me in a wheelchair. The woman looked at me and smiled sympathetically. Her name was Becky, she told me. They wheeled me across my landing to the top of the stairs, John taking the front of the wheelchair, Becky clutching the handles. Stair by stair, they lowered me to the hallway and swiftly moved me through the living room to the front door and the ambulance outside. They could be helping more important people. You’re not worth this fuss. They lifted me into the back of the ambulance and Becky turned back to my mother.

“Would you like to come in the ambulance with your daughter? There’s space for one more person.”

I closed my eyes safe in the knowledge my mother would be with me, after what she said in the bathroom, she wouldn’t leave me. I didn’t want to admit it, but even at seventeen years old, I still needed my mum. There was a pause before she answered. I didn’t like the pause and slowly opened one of my eyes to find my mother still stood outside, arms crossed with a slight scowl on her face.

“No thank you. That’s not my daughter,” she replied bitterly. “Someone took over my daughter years ago.” And with that, she walked back into the house and closed the front door. Becky turned round to face me and slowly shut the ambulance door behind her. Told me it was okay and we drove off to the hospital.

I likey. This is reaaly good, I can't wait for more.

huggs ^ same its realy good hunny xxxxxxxxxx

wow i've just read both parts - its really good!
I want to read more! NOW! =D

Oh my.... Nic you are well awesome.

I can't wait to read more! =D

you can't leave is like that - this is amazing - like WOW!!

teaghanbea - i apologise for my earlier spelling mistake!! lol

But it's so much more fun to leave it like that =D
You'll probably have the next installment after I get home from college tomorrow and have written some more :]
So you'll just have to make do for now =D

Awesome job! Poor girl...makes me sad :(.

Wow, is pretty much all i can say :)

Amazing :)

More soon??? I will start bugging you in chat if not! :P

Moremoremore. =]

pleaseeeeeeeee can we have some more? x x

ok I just read both parts and this is so bloody good!!

More, more, more, more more, more....

please more......

I like this, please write more now for us.... please....

Pleaseeeeeeee.

I'm working on it, kids =P
Patience is a virtue.
But you'll get the next instalment very soon :]

YEY!!

Impatient, you lot =P


Chapter Three

I had been waiting on the made-up hospital bed for around 45 minutes before a doctor opened the curtain separating me from the outside world and came inside, taking a clip board from the end of my bed and studying it for about five minutes before even looking up and acknowledging I existed.

“Keira?” he asked. I nodded. Don’t forget me. “Keira…” he hesitated, looked down at his notes again and then said, “Thompson?” I nodded again. Don’t forget me. “Okay. Looks like you’re going to be in here for a couple of days I’m afraid.” He saw my face fall, then continued to explain why this was so, which was pointless, I knew why. “You’re sugar levels are far too low. We’re not entirely sure what has caused this, but we have a pretty good idea.” He eyed me suspiciously, “Are you eating okay?”

“Yes,” I replied, perhaps a little too quickly. This did not go unnoticed.

“Hmm. Well, we’re going to have to weigh you. You look very malnourished and underweight. Just by looking at you, I’m surprised you’ve not been admitted to a hospital or anything before.” He waited for me to reply, maybe even to defend myself and tell him I was fine, but I knew there was no point; I was not going anywhere. Not tonight. He realised I wasn’t going to say anything, so he simply said, “We’ll send a nurse in to collect you once we can so we can send you off for weighing.” He left a hospital gown on my bed, clearly expecting me to put it on and left the cubicle, leaving the folder behind.

What does it say about you? Does it mention me? Before I could reach across to the end of my bed to retrieve the folder, a plump nurse with her brown hair scraped back into a bun and a face like a wet weekend flung open the curtain and walked into my cubicle. I diverted my hand towards the hospital gown and picked that up instead, bitterly disappointed of the interruption and my failed attempt at looking at the folder and finding out just how much information they had on there. Failure. I looked up at the nurse and she stared back at me, hands clenched into fists and placed on either side of her waist. “We haven’t got all day,” she informed me. “I do have other patients I need to be seeing to, so chop-chop, get that hospital gown on you.”

I looked at her, willing her to leave. There was no way I was going to get changed in front of a stranger; I wouldn’t even get changed in front of my own mother. Huffing, she took the hint and left. I quickly undressed; folding the three layers of clothing I had worn and put them at the end of my bed. Putting on the hospital gown, I climbed off the side of the bed and straightened out the blankets, making sure everything was the same as when I had entered. I took a moment to feel how the gown fitted. It practically hung off me and I smiled to myself; I felt a sense of achievement. I had seen some of the other patients in these gowns as I had been brought in and none of them were as big on them as this one was. Told you I would do a good job in looking after you. You don’t want to be as fat as them. Thin is beautiful. Thin is beautiful.

I picked up my pile of clothes and opened the curtain to exit my cubicle and walked straight into the nurse, who briefly introduced herself as Donna and ordered me to sit down in the wheelchair in front of her. You don’t have to sit down. There’s nothing wrong with you. I’m fine, I told her. Hospital policy, she told me. She removed the pile of clothes from my clutches and handed it to another nurse, mumbling something I couldn’t make out. With a slight push, she sat me down in the wheelchair. I told her I had to walk. You need the exercise. Fat. She refused to let me stand up and in the end, I had to admit defeat; I was still too tired to fight with anyone. Weak. Pathetic.

Donna wheeled me down the hospital corridors, all of which looked the same and it seemed like something I could easily get lost in. It was so big and it made me feel so small, just like I was a little girl again. A little girl…

He was there. I could hear him, smell him, nearly taste him. I was a bad girl when I cried. Such a good girl when I was quiet. He crossed the room…

I snapped my eyes open and focused on the upcoming double doors in front of us. We stopped in front of them and Donna went to the side of one of the doors and typed in a code to prompt the doors to open for us. She pushed the door and asked another nurse to hold it open whilst she wheeled me in. She then asked me to get out of the wheelchair, making me think it was pointless in the first place, and guided me towards a small room in the corner of the ward we had just entered. Inside was a large set of scales with height measuring equipment attached to it as well as a desk and a computer, with one of those swivelling chairs in front. On the wall was a large, colourful poster. At first glance, it looked as if it was decoration and to make children seem more comfortable. On the second, it raised terror inside me, to the point I could feel it in my throat. It was a BMI chart. I knew my own BMI, but being weighed meant everyone else knew it too. My secret was going to be out. I thought about turning round and running, but I knew they would catch me and bring me straight back. Even if I didn’t think they could, I was frozen to the spot.

“Climb on,” said Donna and pointed to the scales. I couldn’t move, so she said it again. Again, I didn’t move a muscle, which agitated her. “Keira.” She touched my shoulder. I flinched away and slowly stepped towards the scales. “No,” she said quickly. “Backwards, please. We don’t want you to see your weight. It could scrap chances of recovery.”

I felt like telling her I knew my exact weight, my exact BMI, the exact target weight I needed to get to, the exact number of calories I would have to consume per day as well as the exact amount of time I would have to exercise for to burn this off and get thinner. Thinner. So much thinner. Instead, I turned to face away from it and stepped up, allowing her to bring some sort of metal device attached to the ruler to measure me down, gently upon my head. She wrote things down on a clipboard, then looked at the BMI chart on the wall and wrote something else. “Thank you,” she said blankly. I stepped off.

She asked me to sit down on a chair in the corner and opened the door to ask for another member of staff, whom she talked to for about five minutes, all the while glancing at me every few seconds to make sure I had not moved from my place. Even though I tried extremely hard to listen to what they were saying, I could barely make out my own name and weight, which she must have said about three times. Eventually, the other nurse came in with Donna and sat down next to me. Donna left the room. I shied away from the new nurse and she turned the chair round to sit at a forty-five degree angle towards me.

“My name is Rose,” she began, and then took a deep breath before continuing with what she really wanted to say. “We are very concerned about you’re weight. It is far too low and your BMI is way below what it should be. According to your notes, you have not yet been diagnosed with anything, is that correct?” I nodded and she continued, “We have been talking to your mother over the phone about your behaviour at home. She has told us about your self-destructive behaviour, including the food she has found under your bed, the diary with your food intake, calorie intake, weight and BMI at that time.”

I tried to stop listening. My mother had been through my personal belongings. She had been in my room. But Rose carried on. And I knew what she was saying. I zoned in and out of her talking about my mother. How worried she was about me. She told me she was going to send me to a clinic. An eating disorder clinic. They could ‘help’ me there. She was obligated to and she could not let me carry on like this. It was then she diagnosed me. Officially or unofficially, I wasn’t sure, I didn’t want to listen. But she said the two words, which pushed me into a box. A category. Took away any individuality I had built for myself. In two little words. “Anorexia nervosa”.

This continues to be amazing!
=D

You are amazing.

I'm just damn sexy ;]

amazing! please keep on writing.

can't wait for next bit!!! me wanna read more!!! this is very good.

You write really well.
Good stuff.

oo i hate lables lol!!!!! realy good hunny i wana read more!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Nic!
This is amazing :D
xxxx

totally amazing!!! x

more??? please!!!!

WOW i love it... amazing.. so much talent PLEEEASE keep writing more

Loved the update :)

u is cooler than cool nic
i swear!!!

once again, this is amazing!
=]

Thanks, kids :]
It's nice to get good feedback XD
I hope you all mean what you're saying rather than just trying to be polite =P

oi - we're not being polite - we're demanding MORE!!!

Tis wicked - Honest!!!

This is really good

more more more more more!!!

me getting impatient now:p

very good! Can't wait for more :)