All Nonfiction
- Bullying
- Books
- Academic
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Heroes
- Interviews
- Memoir
- Personal Experience
- Sports
- Travel & Culture
All Opinions
- Bullying
- Current Events / Politics
- Discrimination
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Environment
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
All Hot Topics
- Bullying
- Community Service
- Environment
- Health
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
- Back
Summer Guide
- Program Links
- Program Reviews
- Back
College Guide
- College Links
- College Reviews
- College Essays
- College Articles
- Back
Skinny (7)
When I was able to come home, my mom kept me on watch every second of the day. She or Joe had to be at the house to make sure I ate every three hours.
Joe had softened up since the day I fainted. He was still mad, but not as mad. He said he would stop being mad at me only if I stopped wearing so much make up.
Of course there was no deal. At first. Joe wouldn’t talk to me or laugh with me. He didn’t hug me. He just came when my mom went to work and made sure I was fed. I couldn’t take not talking to him so eventually I agreed to stop wearing as much makeup.
“I hope you’re happy,” I spoke angrily.
He sighed and looked at me, “How can I be happy when you’re putting yourself through all this?”
I didn’t respond and continued to eat the food he put in front of me. I looked up at him and his face was soft and kind. He smiled at me and I looked away.
When I finished my plate I handed it up to him and went back up to my room. He followed me up after he cleaned the dishes and plopped down on my bed.
I stood in the full-length mirror and examined myself. There was a crack on the side of the mirror that I had never seen before. I stopped looking at myself and focused on the crack and I heard Joe chuckle.
“What’s funny,” I asked.
“Your precious mirror has a crack in it.”
“I fail to see the humor in that.”
He shook his head at me and put his head down on one of my pillows. A few minutes later I heard his breathing get deeper and when I turned around he was asleep.
I sighed and walked over to my bed and looked at him. He must have been exhausted, watching over me like he has. I grabbed a blanket out of my closet and draped it over him.
A piece of his hair had gotten on his face, so I ran my fingers through his hair to push it back. I studied his face and smiled. He was more handsome then I remembered.
I felt bad for putting him through this. He really must have been worried. I don’t like it when my actions directly affect him. He never does anything to make me stressed out or upset.
I went over to the chair in my room and sat down. I watched him sleep until I nodded off on the chair as well.
?
Similar Articles
JOIN THE DISCUSSION
This article has 0 comments.