The next morning we sat at breakfast filled with suspense. Jemma stared down at her tray. "I don't know if I can do it." She stated.
"Do you still have to be ninety-six pounds?" I asked.
"Ninety-four." She corrected.
"You need to eat." I said in a motherly tone. She cautiously picked up her fork and picked at her food. "It's mashed potatoes come on, it's like literally the only good thing they have here." I laughed. She actually took a small bite. She did it. She's eating because she wants too, not just enough to survive. She took another, bigger bite. "You got this!" I said. Marissa jumped up and hugged her. Jemma teared up a little bit but continued eating. "It's alright. It's good isn't it?" I asked. She nodded back at me, mouth full of food.
"I'm going to feel so bad after this." She began to cry even more
"No, you won't!" I explained. "You'll feel healthy and strong and you'll be able to workout and have energy and feel genuinely healthy." I smiled at her.
"It's so good!" She said, moving on to the steak. "Even the garbage steak tastes alright!" The smile on her face lit up my entire world, but that all came crashing done within ten whole minutes. Her smile quickly faded into a look of despair. "I can't do this!" She screamed. Tears poured from her eyes at a constant stream.
"Jem, whats happening?" September asked.
"I was doing so good! Ninety-four pounds! Ninety-four! You don't understand." She threw her tray onto the floor. "You don't have my family. You don't know what its like!" She was crying so violently she threw up on the floor.
A nurse quickly ran over. What did you do to her? The nurse asked.
We all felt so ashamed.
"I need a cigarette" she yelled. Running down the hall and out the door. We followed her out.
"Jemma!" I begged. "I'm so sorry! You were doing so good!"
I caught up to her in the court yard. She jumped up in my face. "Don't you understand that I am NEVER getting out of here?" She questioned. "You're healed. You're recovered" She mocked. "Well, I will never be. I want to eat. Don't you get that? I can't eat. That's the point. I eat enough to survive and I don't care if I'm tired or unhealthy because my family approves of it." I held in my tears. "You think you were so miserable? You have no idea what miserable is, Violet! You will never understand." She took a long hit of her cigarette. "I walk around here acting happy all the time, but obviously, I'm not or I wouldn't be in here."
"Jem, I'm so sorry, I swear." I jumped in and hugged her tightly. We fell to the ground and she cried in my arms. I began rocking her back and fourth. "I'm so sorry," I repeated. "I won't do it again, okay?" September stood over us, crying. Marissa walked over and handed Jemma her panda.
"Our mascot loves you." Marissa said.
I sat outside holding her until the therapist showed up to tell us it was time for group. I walked her to the table and we sat together. "Why don't we start our day with Jemma." The therapist suggested. "Tell us how you're feeling."
"I feel like I want to live here forever. At home, there are such high expectations of me. After all my mother left me for drugs when I was nine and I was adopted into a rich bitchy family that doesn't appreciate anything. I should feel lucky but I don't. I always have to be perfect for them so I'm not forgotten and lost behind their other, real children."
"Jemma," The therapist explained. "your parents put you here because they want you to eat."
"I don't care." She rolled her eyes. "They have three other children and then there's me, the adopted one. They barely even know I exist." This is all my fault. I felt like all eyes were accusing me and the walls were closing in.
"You ate today, isn't that an accomplishment?" The therapist asked.
"I guess. I'm happy my friends were there for me." She shrugged it off. "I'm just saying until you live with my family, you will never understand. I remember my real mother. We were poor, but we were happy. It was just the two of us. She used to take me to the park and push me on the swings and then we would have a picnic. Sometimes she'd scrape up some change and take me to the arcade. Everything was perfect until heroin. Suddenly she just couldn't be bothered with me, but I loved her then and I still do. So I got adopted into the Rowland family. I was their first child. They have more money then most people could imagine and they gave me everything, materialistically, but emotionally, they weren't there. They never were. I guess they don't know what love is. Then they started popping out kids like it was fun for them. With every kid, I became more and more invisible. I tried to be perfect for them so they'd notice me. Instead, they threw me in here." She looked around the room, at every patient. "Be thankful for your family." It hit me harder than a ton of bricks. "I want to eat, but it's hard."
"It's gonna take baby steps, Jem." I said. "But you can do this. I know you can."
"Me too." September spoke up for once.
"Make a group of mentally unstable people friends and you have a hot emotional mess." I Laughed. "But you also have the best friends in the world and you're capable of doing anything."
After getting Jemma to calm down. we talked more about mindfulness and anger management, which I figured out I actually needed. The day flew by and soon enough the sun was gone and stars covered the sky. I was excited because it was movie night. Tonight we're watching Pearl Harbor. I sat at a table and September came to join me. "Where's Jemma?" He asked.
"She's asleep. I just checked on her" I replied. "What are you holding?"
"Oh..." His body stiffened with nervousness. "It's a bible."
My heart warmed. He's adorable. Almost too perfect. "That's cool... are you going to share?"
He smiled and slid the book between us. We began flipping through the pages. "I didn't know you were religious." I said.
"I wasn't." He replied. "After I tried to commit suicide, my brother appeared to me at the hospital. He said. "God wants you to live." So I asked my parents to buy me a bible. That sounds totally crazy, doesn't it?" His nervousness worsened.
"Sounds pretty bad ass to me." I laughed.
"Well I was reading the new testament and I found a verse that reminded me of you. Its Proverbs 31:25. She is clothed in strength and dignity and laughs without fear of the future."
"I'm in a psych ward for suicide, why would that remind you of me?" I asked, confused.
"Where you're at isn't who you are, Violet." He smiled. "We aren't going to be in here forever. We're gonna get out and you're gonna do so many amazing things."
"I do feel better." I stated.
"Good." He replied.
I never thought my dream date would be sitting in a deteriorating psych ward, in pajamas, reading a bible, but it was perfect beyond belief. We spent the rest of the night flipping through the bible together and talking about our plans when we get out. I learned he lives about thirty minutes from me and plans to attend art school. I could see him being a famous artist. I told him I plan to go to church. He was still awkward, but at least he was talking.
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