Tuesday, July 22, 2014

Generation 2 | Chapter 2: Lost it All

Author's Note: Lol I guess I've decided to write chapters on here every now and then until I get bored. So enjoy!

*7 Years Later* 

I lost everything. My father and siblings unfortunately passed away in a car accident caused by a drunk driver two years ago. The only reason I survived was because I wasn't in the car. To forget, I moved to Sunset Valley and changed my last name to Shepard. Celesta Shepard was a name I somewhat enjoyed. But the memories stood. Every day I stood in the mirror and hated myself for living with the people I loved most dying. Watching myself get thinner and paler slowly as it killed me a little inside. The mirror was my enemy but in a way I couldn't live without looking into it, as if it was an addiction. I knew I wasn't supposed to be here, but somehow I was staying. Now there is barely anything on my body one could call fat. Each day was now a sickly struggle. I was exhausted every day but not able to fall asleep.

It was difficult to get my frail body out of bed. Someday my body would give in to this disease they call anorexia, but it's not yet. A faint, white light gleamed in the corner of my eyes, and I knew that my body was ready to give up on life. Somehow I managed to get up and go to the kitchen to swallow a whole lot of unnecessary medications that I had found.

I started to feel more cold and the faint light grew stronger. Something told me that this was the day I could finally be free of all pain and guilt and be with my family again. But an unnatural instinct knocked me to the ground along with the landline phone. The fight or flight instincts I had kicked in and managed to dial the emergency number as I went limp and coughed heavily.

While the line rung I felt my lips go numb. The end was almost near for me. But when an operator finally picked up I coughed out softy "Help.... I'm dying" before going completely numb and limp. Nothing could save me and and light shone in my face. Slowly, I closed my eyes and let my soul go and be free. No more pain and torture. It was done. Life was over.


Slowly, I opened my eyelids and looked around. Monitors around me beeped and I quickly was aware of the tube connected to my stomach. Somehow somebody managed to save me even though I was about to die. A nurse walked in and asked me if I needed anything. A quiet "no" escaped my lips. She sat on my bed and told me that I had to be resuscitated five times but still managed to escape death's grip. I was going to be here for quite a while, but the nurse rubbed my hand and told me as long as I cooperated I could get out in less time and be healthy.


The hospital made me start going to a support group for people with eating disorders as soon as I was able to sit up in a wheelchair and walk a bit. The two hour long sessions every Tuesday felt longer than they actually were. I didn't talk much in group, besides introducing myself as a 17 year old girl who's family died and now dealing with survivor's guilt.

When not in group or anything, I usually sleep, since there's nothing to do at all in this stupid hospital full of stupid people.

Enough was enough and I decided escape from this hellhole. Quickly, I threw on a pair of clothes that once hung off of my body, but not anymore. The hospital was small, with only two floors, and I was on the first. Using what strength I had, I pushed up the window and climbed out. The smell of fresh air was exhilarating after not being able to smell it for months.

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