The day was near over, while we were having our night time snack together. I didn’t take anything, nor did Kate. We all sat around the table just having some typical conversations. A girl named Beth came in that evening. She told us she was sent here because her parents hated her and abused her, and just threw her out. I didn’t understand how someone could do that to her. She was really pretty and nice. The thought of someone hitting her made me cringe.
We decided to change the topic, because she was getting a bit emotional, which is totally expected. We didn’t want her to be sad, though. Somehow, the topic of weed came up, no thanks to Nick. A nurse soon butted in.
“Weed makes your breasts grow,” she said. We all burst out laughing, but she was being serious. I never thought of something like that. Nick was pretty ripped, so I just ignored her silly comment. It was completely irrelevant to me, anyways.
A new discussion was thrown out there. It was about music. I said that I’m a musician, and everyone thought I meant I played guitar or drums or something, but I told them that I just play the oboe and sing a bit. However, I REFUSED to sing for them. I was way too embarrassed.
Snack time had ended, and we were sent off to our rooms for bed. I decided to take a shower, so I asked for my soap, shampoo, and conditioner. I got them, and walked into my bathroom. I hopped on the cold, tile floor so my feet would stay warm, and turned on the water.
When it was hot enough, I stepped into the shower, and felt my cuts sting as the water hit them. I got over the pain, and washed my body very thoroughly. Since I couldn’t wear make up or nice clothes, I at least wanted to be clean. I ran my soapy fingers through my brittle hair, and scrubbed it until it smelled nice and fresh. I did the same with my body.
I couldn’t stand smelling bad. I would hate for someone to cringe and ask “What’s that smell?!” because of me. It seemed like a total nightmare to me, having all of that attention on you. Never in a million years would I be able to bear having everyone’s eyes on me. It was one of my greatest fears.
The water started to feel cold, so I stepped out and dried off. A nurse knocked on the door and asked if I was okay. I told them I was. It was so weird to me, being talked to while I was unclothed. It made me feel incredibly self-conscious, because I didn’t know if they were going to come into the bathroom or not. My eyes filled with terror, but luckily, I heard my room door close again. I sighed with relief.
“That was a close one!” my mind whispered. It really was a close one. If someone saw me naked, I would die. They’d look at how large my thighs and stomach are, how much flab I have everywhere, my lack of muscle, and my presence of scars. No one could see me unclothed. I’d die.