Colbie
I couldn’t find relief.
I couldn’t run. I couldn’t work out. I couldn’t even do yoga. There was nothing to pour myself into to regain the control I’d lost since coming here. There were no phones available. I could write until my hand fell off, but without correspondence, I didn’t see the point. I’d been cut off from the outside world, severed, and until I resumed therapy, that isolation included school. I needed something, anything.
Walking down the hall, peeking my head into cracked doors, I realized I’d reached the lowest of lows, and I didn’t care. There were people on this floor who suffered from the opposite of what Bright Horizons believed my affliction to be. There were yins to my yang. I just had to find them. Befriend them. Or at the very least, buy one off.
Bella sat on her bed, reading a book about nutrition. I rolled my eyes before I knocked. The girl was cloyingly thin—and I had apparently become incredibly judgmental—but we had something in common. She didn’t want to eat, and I needed to binge. If there was one thing I’d learned while being here, it was that people went to elaborate measures to handle their body the way they wanted. No treatment facility in the world could change someone who didn’t want help. Bella didn’t want help, and I didn’t need it.
I’d seen her conceal things when she left the cafeteria, and I knew she was hiding food in her room to keep from having to eat it. Sadly, I didn’t care what it was. I’d take anything. My heart longed for that full sensation, the happiness that came from a satisfying meal. My brain needed the flood of endorphins that was almost as good as sex, although not quite. I hadn’t had a runner’s high, an orgasm, or food euphoria since I’d arrived, and my mind whirled in a frenzy of uncertainty and confusion. I couldn’t grasp anything because it all moved too quickly.
“Knock, knock.” I tapped on Bella’s door. “Hey.” I smiled when she peered up from the pages of her book.
She had beautiful teeth and full lips. Her nose was straight, and she had the most unique green eyes I’d ever seen. Bella’s blond hair had probably been spectacular before her nutritional habits stole the life and body from it. “Hi, you. I haven’t seen you in a couple of days. Everything okay?” Bella placed a bookmark in her spot and closed the cover.
The two of us weren’t friends. I wasn’t friends with anyone here. They were all sick and needed help. I had school to worry about—well, until recently—and trying to get by until I could get out. Going through the motions here was taxing, not to mention time-consuming, and I hadn’t managed to create relationships in addition to the things that were required of me. The last couple of days, I’d forgone those things as well.
I glanced in both directions down the hall outside her room and then stepped inside, closing the door behind me. She watched me approach with her large, round eyes, but she waited for me to tell her what I wanted.
“I was wondering if maybe we could help each other out?” I chose my words carefully.
Her eyes sparkled when she nodded. “Sure, what’s up?”
Bella—like everyone else here—was not hurting for money. She was a B-list actress who’d made some serious cash on a daytime soap opera. Bargaining with her wouldn’t include using my ATM card.
She must have seen my hesitation because she laid her hand on my knee. “I’m happy to help you if I can, Colbie. What’s wrong?”
I took a deep breath and went for the gusto. “Do you have any snacks you don’t want?”
Her shoulders slumped, and her expression sank. “Did Raine send you in here to ask me about lunch?”
“Raine? What? No. Of course not.” I twisted my fingers in my lap and chewed my bottom lip. “It’s just…” I wondered if this was how drug addicts begged for their next high when they were out of money and dope. “I’m…” I couldn’t maintain eye contact. “I’d be willing to barter. I mean if there’s something you need. I just thought maybe we could help each other out.”
“Oh.” The surprise in her voice wasn’t that of disappointment, but rather clarity. She squeezed my knee and then patted it. “I don’t know if I have anything you want, but you’re welcome to it.” Bella stood and then moved around the room.
She shifted the vent from the air intake and pulled out a pillowcase before replacing the cover. One by one, she removed small items from her drawers, then she went to the closet and pulled stuff from the pockets of her pants and jacket. By the time she returned to my side, she had collected enough food to kill a small horse and deposited her loot onto the mattress.
“Wow.” There were apples, granola bars, a couple of snack cakes—I didn’t have a clue where she’d gotten those. They certainly weren’t on the menus I’d seen. Bagels were wrapped in napkins, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to know what had caused the grease stains on the paper towel.
Bella shrugged. “Some of it you probably shouldn’t eat. It might make you sick. I try to get rid of things before they go bad, but it can be hard. And the packaged stuff won’t go down the toilet.”
I didn’t want to know how she’d managed to get all this food out of the cafeteria. I just needed to know what she wanted for it. “How much?”
She plopped onto the bed next to me, but as light as she was, the mattress barely shifted. Her frail fingers pushed the food around as though she were sorting through it to see how valuable it was. Then she met my eyes. “Can you get any laxatives?”
I’d known this would all come at a price. I had hoped it wouldn’t include theft, but in my mind, I justified that by telling myself that the patients paid a steep tab to be here. That money was what Bright Horizons used to buy the medication they had on hand. So technically, I wasn’t stealing. I was taking something my parents had paid for when they enrolled me in this place.
I nodded to answer Bella’s question. “I’ll be back.” I didn’t reach for the food. This was an exchange, not a handout. I wouldn’t get the goods until I’d given her the payment. That was the way deals worked.
The door remained ajar when I left. I didn’t bother to look back. I could feel Bella’s hopeful eyes staring holes into my back. She had her own needs that craved attention, and I was desperate to find a mutually beneficial solution.
In the time I’d been here, I’d kept my head down. I might have been naïve, but I wasn’t stupid. The adage everyone has a price proved itself over and over again within these walls. There were ways to get things you wanted, needed. Contraband was only unobtainable if you didn’t keep your eyes and ears open. I stayed alert. I knew where to go to get what Bella had asked for and whom I’d have to pay off to be able to swipe it. What I didn’t know was how long that would take to facilitate.
It wasn’t as easy as just walking down the hall to the nurses’ station and swiping it off a shelf. Braxton was the rumored conspirator, and he had just come in for his shift. I sat in my room and watched the hands tick by on the clock, trying to give him time to get in and get the previous shift out. The fewer people around, the better my chances would be. After twenty-two minutes, I’d waited as long as I could. My leg bounced in nervous anticipation, and I’d nearly chewed a hole in my lip.
I stuck my head out my door and strained to peer around the corner. Braxton sat alone at the computer. He was a cute guy, in a nerdy sort of way. And clearly, he was intelligent, or he wouldn’t have a nursing degree. What he wasn’t was ethical, and that worked in my favor. So did the fact that he’d made no secret over finding me attractive.
God, I missed Eli. One phone call—just to hear his voice—would end this nonsense. I wouldn’t need the fix I currently sought. I wouldn’t feel justified in breaking a rule much less a law. This idea that eliminating outside distractions somehow benefited a patient was nothing short of ludicrous.
Before I talked to Braxton, I checked myself in the mirror. I couldn’t imagine what he saw in me, but if he fancied patients in rehab centers and that got me what I needed, then I’d play the game. I took a deep breath and pulled down the front of my shirt a smidge to expose my cleavage.
I hated myself for this.
The hall was clear coming and going. I waltzed down it like I had all the confidence in the world when in actuality, my hands shook, and adrenaline pumped through me causing my heart to hammer in my chest. The pounding nearly drowned out Braxton’s overly friendly welcome.
He stood as I approached. “Hey, Colbie.” His gaze dropped to my neckline before quickly rising back to meet my eyes. It was a tad creepy, but the smile he tossed out made this a little easier.
I glanced around like a crackhead checking for cops. “Hey, Braxton.” I kept my voice low to prevent drawing attention or being overheard.
His head of dark curls leaned in close, and I could smell the peppermint on his breath. “Why are we whispering?”
I straightened my back when it dawned on me that whispering might draw more attention than casually talking. “Sorry.” I cleared my throat, touching it lightly with my fingers when I felt heat rise up my neck. “I heard you provide a service for people here.”
He clamped a meaty hand over my mouth as quickly as the words had left it. “Keep your voice down.”
I rolled my eyes and pushed his arm away. “Can you help me or not?”
Suddenly, Braxton appeared sketchy, on edge. “Yeah, yeah. Sure.” His eyes darted up and down the hall, and he checked over his shoulder before saying anything else. “What do you need?”
I wasn’t sure if I needed to make as big a show of checking for onlookers and eavesdroppers as Braxton had, so I raised my brows and waited until he gave me a visual go ahead. “Laxatives.”
“Child’s play. That it?” His dismissal irritated me. Braxton had no idea how hard it was to be trapped here, cooped up like an animal. Prisoners had more freedom than those of us still in the dorms.
I shrugged. “Unless you can get me a conjugal visit, yes, that’s it.”
“Two-fifty for the service and a hundred for ten pills.” He swiped his thumb under his nose and continued to glance around.
I nearly choked. Three hundred and fifty dollars for ten laxatives. That wasn’t just highway robbery, it should be punishable by death. “Seriously?”
He crossed his arms and shrugged one shoulder. “Take it or leave it. I’m not the one who needs it.” Braxton cocked his head to the side, eyeing me like a sirloin on an all-you-can-eat buffet. “Unless you want to work out another form of payment.”
I sighed and realized why Braxton carried a flame for women in treatment. Not only did he lack game, but he was also a slimeball. “Does cash work for you?”
He smirked. “Good as gold.”
Five minutes later, I returned with money from my commissary fund. I didn’t see the point in having a commissary when I was forbidden from buying half of what they offered and wasn’t interested in the other fifty percent. Thankfully, it provided me with an influx of cash—the only sign that my parents remembered me being here. When I handed over the bills, Braxton sidled up next to the counter in order to discreetly tuck a small blister pack of laxatives into my jeans’ pocket.
He leaned in, and the heat of his breath on my skin crept down my spine like spiders. “I’m more than happy to work out another form of payment anytime you’re ready.” The sound of his voice was worse than nails on a chalkboard, and it made my toes curl. A person could go from decent to despicable in the blink of an eye.
I stepped back and thought he ought to be grateful Eli wasn’t here to show him just how little he thought of Braxton’s violation of my personal space. “Cash works. Thanks.”
I didn’t stop to analyze the way my skin crawled or the gleam in his eyes. This had a purpose, and I’d accomplished my mission with relative ease. As fast as my feet would carry me, I beelined toward Bella’s room, and there I exchanged her want for my need. It all felt like a covert operation that could go wrong at any point, but I didn’t care. No recourse could have stopped me from what I was about to do.
Consequences be damned.
* * *
I’d made sure to wait as long as I could into our dinner hour before I started eating so that once I got back to my room, I could add to it what I’d gotten from Bella. I was giddy with excitement and felt a bit like a rebel when I rose from the table to go to my room.
“Hey, Colbie?”
I turned at the sound of my name called to find Bella still in the dining room. “Yeah?” My hand tapped the side of my leg in anticipation. I was wasting precious time.
“You want to watch a movie with us tonight?” She thumbed over her shoulder to two other girls. They all stood with smiles, awaiting my reply.
I didn’t want to think about a movie right now. “Sure. I’ll come find you in a bit.” It was hard to keep my voice level when all I wanted to do was scream at her to leave me alone.
Bella had to know my plans. I hadn’t bothered her when she’d downed her laxatives or raced off to the bathroom. Surely, she could give me some time to enjoy satisfying the beast that clawed inside me. I didn’t need long. Bella bit her pouty lip and nodded. Yep, she knew.
I waved, but my clenched fingers and balled fists probably didn’t do much to ease my awkward reply.
Trying desperately to remain discreet, I shuffled down the hall and kept my head down. The corridor was relatively quiet since most people went to the recreational rooms—there was no recreation, only movies and board games—after dinner. It was the only place we were encouraged to socialize. Apparently, getting a bunch of people with eating disorders together was a recipe for disaster. I’d heard through the grapevine that patients exchanged secrets for how to. It didn’t matter if it was anorexia or bulimia, meetings of the minds became strategizing sessions when they were unsupervised. Hence the reason we were discouraged from having visitation outside of the common areas.
Personally, I didn’t care what anyone else did. I was just here to do my time and get out. That was more difficult than I’d assumed it would be, which was what currently had me at the brink.
There were no locks to our suites, so I moved a chair against the door and under the knob to prevent anyone from casually wandering in. I retrieved the pillowcase of food I’d hidden in the suitcase in my closet. I also grabbed my headphones and the MP3 player I’d bought from the commissary. I’d picked the device loaded with classical music—they offered country, pop, rap, and some alternative grunge—because my fingers could dance on an imaginary set of keys as I listened. It was as close to a piano as I could get, and without Eli, I had to make do.
I crawled onto the bed and covered my legs with a blanket. A strange nostalgia washed over me as I sat Indian-style with the pillowcase in front of me. As a child, this had been how I’d gone through my Halloween candy. Caden and I would sit on my bed and dump out our loot. He’d toss me his Snickers, and I’d give him all my Kit Kats. But Caden wasn’t across from me, and there wasn’t any candy in my bag. I was alone. My family had dumped me here. They’d stripped me of everything I loved.
I ripped open a granola bar and took a bite—that was for music.
The dark notes of Mozart pounded into my ears and washed out everything around me.
I didn’t even taste the little bits of chocolate as I tore through the first snack.
The bag of pretzels didn’t stand a chance as I demolished them—that was for running.
Puccini killed Mimi in La Bohème as I ate through an apple.
One bagel, then two—they were for Eli—gone through like the men in Platoon when Samuel Barber’s “Adagio for Strings” rang through my headphones.
And Bach brought it home when he stole every ounce of happiness, and I begged him to take me like “Come, Sweet Death.”
It was mindless.
My memories played on fast-forward as I ate my way through thousands of “healthy” calories. My stomach swelled, and for the first time since I’d seen Eli before Christmas, a glimmer of euphoria danced around my thoughts’ edge. It was so close; I could almost touch it. I reached with each bite, desperate to hold its ha
nd for just a fraction of a second. I stretched every time I chewed, grasping for a shred of happiness.
But when Henryk Górecki’s Symphony No. 3, “Sorrowful Songs,” echoed in my ears, I lost the battle. The tears won out as the chilling music, inspired by the words of an eighteen-year-old girl—a World War II prisoner—engrained themselves into my soul. The war was over. My heart ached. My body was weary. I was crushed in the agony of defeat. The days I’d gone without bingeing or purging had been shattered in this moment of weakness.
The food rose in my esophagus, threatening to make its way free before I lifted the lid to the toilet in the bathroom. I ripped the headphones off and tossed them onto the bed with the MP3 player and trash and remnants of food and all of my sanity.
Eli.
Dr. Chalmers.
Jess.
Caden.
I’d failed them all. They’d been right, where I’d been wrong. Each of them had known, and I’d been blind. I’d let them down. Fools rushed in. I was lost. More lost than I’d ever been. Drowning in the weight of my choices and the unhappiness it always brought in the end.
The control was an illusion, and I was sick.
Not just sick right this second.
Sick as in sick.
Worthlessness.
Hopelessness.
Betrayal.
Demise.
Hatred.
I purged those words into the water before me. Tears streamed down my face and neck. My fingers couldn’t go deep enough to rid myself of the self-loathing that ate at me like maggots on rotting flesh. There was nothing good in what was left of me.
Saliva clung to my fingers like a web, and bile ran down my palm. I fell to the bathroom floor and begged God to have mercy on me, to show me a light that would point me in the direction of happiness. I pleaded with the Almighty for compassion right before I tried to bargain with the Devil. I’d take either or; I just needed something.
But God didn’t rescue me.
Satan wasn’t interested in my pleas.
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