This is a story I wrote for my Story Making Class.

“C’mon, it’ll be fun! Just get pasta or something!” Smiling down at me, comfort radiating from his green eyes, Liam squeezed my hand tight. As he ushered me into the quaint restaurant, I tried my best to fight my first act on instincts. My body turned at the sight of a sign screaming “HUGE BUFFET! First Come, First Serve!” and I felt my spine tense up a bit. I had to go along today; I had to do this for him, and myself. Curled around his arm, I hung on to Liam, keeping my face averted to the ground. It was hard not to be blinded by the sickly yellow and white bulbs looming above the encased varieties of eats. Squinting through the rays of fake lighting, I could see Joe and Amy sitting over in a booth, waving us over to join them. Straightening myself up, I followed Liam with grace and posture. However, once my denim-clad bottom slid in against the red leathery cushions, the chills came back. Shivering gently in my seat, I flashed a smile as introductions rolled on by. My hand levitated out robotically, exchanging shakes, polite laughter, and attentive nods. Though, only one thing was on my mind, really. I had to get out of there.

Constant fidgeting and tapping of the leg did not distract my boyfriend, or our friends. This was good, this was very good. I sighed with relief, knowing I was seemingly normal at this moment in time to them. A tall, lanky, awkward young man with brilliantly red hair and freckles the size of Alaska tripped over to our table. Wearing a white button down, half tucked in, and a goofy red and black tie – clearly, the colors of the restaurant – he could only be the waiter. “C-c-can I get you folks anything to d-d-drink?” the squirrelly voice trembled. It was probably his first day. Liam beamed to the kid, “I’ll have a coke!” Then it went to Joe, “Some Dr. Pepper would be good”. “Ice Tea, please,” Amy softly chirped. “Water” I nodded, eyeing the nametag. Ralph was a fine name for an awkward specimen like himself. “R-r-right away”, the waiter scribbled down on to his notepad, turning around and hurrying off to the kitchen to retrieve their beverages. Then, the chatter commenced amongst the group, which turned into a rhythmic buzz in my ears. Hunched over, I realized I still had my coat on. Well, of course no one else would need theirs, except for me. I felt cold all the time. Perhaps I should have been born a walrus. But, who is there to say I am not already one? Clearly, I could be in the same family of girth if I argued enough about it. In my head, this was true. In Liam’s head, it would never be true. He’s the lucky one, though. He doesn’t have to see what I see. And he didn’t have to endure this anxiety I was fighting right now.

My palms brushed up and down against my arms as I surveyed the restaurant. It had a 50’s style to it, mixed in with a western kind of theme. How this worked, I have no clue. But, it did kind of look absolutely ridiculous. Some waitresses scurried along on rollerblades, dressed up in “Annie, Get Your Gun” outfits. Their pigtail braids bobbed in motion with every skid of the wheels underneath their feet. It was hypnotic. Glancing down to my hands, my fingers wrapped tightly around one another, I observed the circumference of my wrists. Had they grew overnight? Is that even possible? A small whimper escaped my throat as my eyes traveled to the ceiling. The white drips of wallpaper, styled to kind of mirror icicles, did not help at all. A ringing began in my ears, overlaying the monotone buzz of chatter going on. My muscles twitched rapidly before stopping all at once. That sensation of a body part falling asleep took over my enter arm and then the other. I felt cold. I felt incredibly cold. One bit of white shook, and then another, and then all of them were shaking at the bases. The icicles chipped away slowly, ever so slowly. And then they fell. And then everything went black. And then I felt nothing.

The funny thing about fainting is that it isn’t as bad as it seems. Everyone always worries about it happening to someone they love, because of the obvious reason: would they wake up again. But, when it actually happens to that person, they do not realize it. It is just a hole of darkness, and nothing else. If anything, it is a stage of rest. It is the act of the brain trying to compose the body together, and restore things. The worst part of it is the buildup. When you know it’s coming, there is nothing you can do but try to lay straight, head lower than the body, and breathe in deep and slowly. Don’t hyperventilate and breathe in faster, because this will cause adrenaline to enter the bloodstream, and the brain will shut off quicker. If there was a class taught on this subject, I could be a teacher. Actually, I could be a guru of fatigue. Yeah, that title seems rather nice… This is much nicer than being in that “Leave It to Beaver” rodeo of a food joint. I feel free and fine here with just my air, and just the darkness.

“Juno! Juno!! Oh God, oh God, please… Please wake up! JUNO!!!” I knew that voice. That warm, gentle, loving voice could only belong to one person. Opening my eyes, I found my eyesight blurred, slowly coming to. Liam’s face was pressed up in my vision, taking over a majority of it. I blinked then, and arched an eyebrow. That was all he needed. Wrapping me up into his arms, a hug of urgency and worry was tight against my body. But, it was nice, and so warm. I had a feeling other people were standing around, but I didn’t want to move my head and look. Actually, I couldn’t really move at all yet, as my muscles felt the soreness of spontaneous spasms prior to waking. As Liam pulled back, I could see the scared little boy in his eyes, staring down at me while pecking softly at my cheeks between words. “Juno, please stop scaring me like this. Please, please stop…” His words meant a lot to me, and his plea was heard. Yet, how would I know if I would listen? My future self may not have been here to hear this at all. I simply looked at him, and mustered up a smile. No promises.

I really do not enjoy disrupting an event. Although, ending lunch with friends is much less awkward than ending Thanksgiving Dinner, it still is embarrassing. And who does all the eyes fall upon when this happens? Well, the girl who is sprawled out on the floor unconscious, of course. I’ve never wanted to be the attention grabber type. Drama and acting on the stage never appealed to me – and yet, I’ve become a natural at causing a scene.

After I was dragged away into the back of an ambulance outside the restaurant, I could still feel the stares burrowing into my skin. It was as if a parasite had laid eggs beyond my flesh overnight, and little creepers were shuffling along against my muscles, up and down my spine, finding all my weaknesses. No, I did not like being stared at. The paramedics ran through the necessary tests, throwing a blanket over me since I was still trembling. Through all the shudders, I could still manage to focus on Liam sitting next to me inside of the vehicle. At all times his eyes were either on me, or looking down to my hands, both of which he held tightly. I could almost feel the fright flowing through his veins. His thoughts were out there on his face, easy to read, at least for someone who knew him like I did. I looked away, dipping my chin under the blanket, I went into hiding. A feeble attempt to disappear from the world, it didn’t work out like I wanted it to. Darting my eyes weakly over to one of the medics, the one with the goatee and shiny bald head, I watched as his lips moved and I tuned in to pick up the sound. Handing over my information hastily, it was clear I just wanted to go home. I just wanted to go home and apologize to Liam, and make it all better. The latter always seemed impossible, though.

Leather was a bad choice for tonight. The jacket on my back turned into a bag of bricks as I slumped on to the burgundy couch. Honestly, each blink was like running a mile to me in that moment. I watched Liam as he shut the door, locking it, turning directly to the fridge. My eyes strained to watch what he was grabbing out, his tall body curving down to level out with each shelf. The breeze from the contraption eventually found its way over to me. As my jacket suddenly became my warm cave, it took a few minutes to realize I was being addressed.

“Here,” his dirty blonde tufts obscured my view of his eyes as he bent down to gently push a Gatorade into my nervous hands. “You need to balance out your electrolytes. It’s important.” I squinted until the back of his crocheted, forest green sweater faced me. Like a spy, I quietly rushed to turn over the gigantic plastic bottle. Pale pink mystery liquid swished along inside in response before the white label was shown. Aha, so that’s what is inside of thi-

“Stop that”. Liam rolled his eyes at me, his fingers taking to the cap of the bottle. He continued to twist it along against my strength until the shiny label screamed at me. “Honey…” I didn’t want to look up at him as he came closer. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see him crouching, shuffling awkward on his toes until his chin rested on my hands, folded lightly over the cap now.

“Please, look at me,” his voice was cotton, so soft, so tender and gentle. I looked up (how could I not?). It was then I could see his eyes. Gosh, were they beautiful. His palms were so intimidating and big on top of mine, as if his fingers could annihilate mine in one flick. But, I was never afraid of him. Besides, everyone seemed big to me – including myself. A metallic taste entered my mouth, my lip pressed between my teeth. Here came “the talk” once again. Oh, if I had a nickel for how many times I heard this talk. I had to be fair to Liam, though. Hearing this from him was much more tolerable than from my mother.

“You know I just want you to be healthy, Juno,” his palm worked at hugging the outside of my fingers, rubbing spontaneously with care. “You have to eat to be healthy. It’s okay to eat, you know.” His warmth intermingled with my icy temperatures, like a couple on their third successful date (and then some). My ears stung a little to that word – the “e” word. My spine twitched as a shiver shot up along the bones while I didn’t reply. Taking this as a sign to keep going, Liam nodded and clicked his tongue after clearing away his throat. “I want to eat with you, and be happy. I want you to enjoy it just as much as I do.” The giant palm moved over, and now I felt it caressing my cheek. I closed my eyes, though nodded a little to let him know I was listening. Yes, I was actually listening. I was hearing each word that crossed his worried lips, and I took them in to my heart. Still, the “e” word was hitting the back of my skull. I focused as hard as I could, and just could not push away that word. As I stared against the darkness behind my lids, cloaking over the windows to my emotions, I began to remember where this fear began.

I tend to compare high school to a wild, exotic zoo. There is a wide variety of different species to observe throughout those four years of “growing up”. For example, there are the skittish, awkwardly built nerds who are often hunted down by the carnivorous, muscular jocks. Then, there are the slick and shady hipsters, with their undeniable sense of “cool” and “retro”. They say they became endangered before it went mainstream, but everyone knows they are just as common as oxygen on Earth. Amongst all of the other mammals, finally, there are the dainty, graceful and always smiling popular girls. I was part of a neutral class, an animal with no defying quality or trait. For some reason, the girl at the top of the food pyramid picked me out as her target.

I figured it might have been my electric blue pixie cut that caught her attention, like a holy beacon in the middle of a dark oasis. But, perhaps, she had just grown tired for the day, and coveted for someone new to share her precious secrets with. If I remember correctly, it was the middle of winter when Monica Doxie first approached me. I can still see her in my head as a vision complete with purple garments and emitting the most blinding light from her teeth. After a few exchanges of spontaneous questioning, and abrupt answers on my part, we had been sitting at the same lunch table for a good fifteen minutes. It felt like an eternity to be even in the same five-foot radius as her. I wasn’t sure if this was a prank at the time, which would explain the way I had whipped my head around midsentence in the conversation. Something about her beauty and voice captivated me soon enough, and held me there, as if I turned to stone from her mesmerizing gaze. A week later, we would become best friends – this is how quickly friends became close in high school. Another two weeks later, Monica revealed to me her most helpful, and yet utterly destructive, hints to beauty and happiness.

I always pondered why she would spend so much time in the bathrooms at school. During some classes we shared together, I would watch as she claimed a hallway pass without any fuss from the teachers, and disappeared. It would almost be twenty minutes later until she would return, smile, and sit down next to me in the back row. I made the decision one Friday to ask her the reasoning behind visiting the little girl’s room for so long, when at lunchtime she barely ate more than an apple and some almonds. This was a big choice I made, to ask such a question, and actually listen to the answer.

Instead of simply telling me, Monica tugged me along with her in the middle of History class one afternoon. I was fairly confused to why she would want to share a single stall, since that would not be proper or hygiene-friendly. Still, she continued to defy my expectations as she locked the door, and pulled a white, lace trimmed doily out of her jean pocket. I recall the scene perfectly, watching this Barbie-esque idol kneel down on the fabric, which gathered up delicious germs from the tiled floor. She beckoned me to do the same, and for some reason, I did. From there, I was told to copy her every motion. It all happened so fast – lowering my head over the fake-porcelain toilet bowl as my index and middle fingers teamed up on an expedition to reach the dangling uvula. Like the great Indiana Jones, the adventuring digits were ultimately successful, even as the painful effect came rolling out from my throat like an uncontrollable tumbling boulder. Being introduced to the world Monica Doxie had been living in for years was a blessing at the time, a gift that only was meant for me – the chosen one under her guidance. As a polite and devoted friend, I followed in her footsteps from that day on, and built a book of rules in my head. Chapter by chapter, I knew what to eat, what not to eat, when to work out and for how long, who to hang out with, and how to keep my family from finding out about my new hobby. By senior year, my mind novel was completed with the last few drops of cerebral ink.

White light reflected off of the snow from outside as it bounced through the window, dancing in rays upon the navy carpet of our bedroom. The brightness hurt my eyes as I opened them to see that Liam had escorted me to stand and walk without my knowledge. As he fidgeted around the room in the background, I felt amazed by each flake of snow drifting towards the ground. I don’t want to brag, but I was gifted with some pretty spectacular vision. Being an active carrot nibbler, my telescopic sight doesn’t surprise me. I scoped out one snowflake over another as they all fell spontaneously, identifying with some of the unique designs. These little patterns of beauty represented individuality, and often went unnoticed by the world around them. My fingertips pressed to the icy glass, creating sweat from the slight warmth of my hand against the window pane. My shoulders jumped as I felt an arm wrap tightly around my waist. Alas, my lovely distraction with the snow was over.

Despite my best efforts to avoid it, Liam had placed me perfectly in front of the reflection. At first, I couldn’t look up, knowing what I would see is what I run from every single day. But, his strength and his voice were stronger than I was. “Juno, look at yourself”. I shook my head rapidly, wisps of soft chestnut curls whipping at my cheekbones. ”Juno…” Liam sighed against the back of my neck, which made me pause and hold still to listen. His palms moved up to the outside of my shoulders, keeping me steady, keeping me there in front of the full-length mirror. “I want you to tell me what you see, please” he did not want to give up just yet. I gave a whiney groan as my head rolled to the right, messing with my view of the bedroom. Even with this alteration to how I viewed my reflection, staring blankly back at me, everything continued to look distorted. I could feel my lower lip tremble the longer those huge green eyes stayed on my figure, inching downwards and then back up.

Scanning over each little detail of my body beyond the maroon, baggy sweater, black leather jacket, dark skinny jeans and lace up boots, was very hard to do, though I’ve done it without even noticing before. As difficult as this was, I forced myself to not tear away and cry. No, I let the beads of liquid salt trickle down my chin and taint my neck – these would be signs of my regret, my guilt and my apologies to myself as the tears dried into my fragile muscles.

Eventually, I found my voice. “I see a sad and,” a sniffle broke through my words before I continued, “a very flawed girl”. His arms squeezed back around my waist from behind, and I could feel Liam’s chin weighing down lightly on my head as I watched it happen before me. “No,” he shook his head with the reply, holding me firmly with the utmost care. “I agree with the first part, but not at all with the last. Not one little bit, not even slightly.” I breathed in deeply as his voice muffled out at the last part. I was too fixated on the disgusting bump beneath my stomach, where my lower abdominals laid. My palm rolled over this spot over the wool as I focused then on the revolting curves of thunder thighs inside the “skinny” jeans.

“Stop it.” Liam hugged me tighter again, pulling me away from my world of self-criticism and complete loathing of this vessel my soul, mind and spirit inhabited. In one swift motion, I was turned around to face him, falling in against his chest which matched up with my head perfectly. Pressing in with my ear close to his sweater, I listened in for a heartbeat, comforted by the rhythms it played out. “You are the most beautiful, most wonderful and precious person in the world to me, Juno.” A finger came down to lift my chin up, and there I met with his eyes. I could tell he was fighting back a tear as his pupils glistened. I never meant to make anyone cry, especially not him. I never meant to hurt anyone, or worry anyone. This should just affect me and only me; this is my responsibility and pain. More salty goodness rolled down my face, though I didn’t try to move and clear my face, or check my makeup. I didn’t want to look away. “You are not alone, Juno”, Liam smiled after sniffling a little, gently kissing the spot a tear had fell along beside my nose. “I’m right here. I’m going to be right here with you. I’m going to help you, and I won’t let you fall.” I bite down on my lip, and felt the wound from earlier open up a bit. But, Liam placed a kiss there as well before I could continue to tear at the skin. “We’re in this together.” His face stayed close to mine as he spoke, bending over a little to be at my level. How I ended up with such a catch, I will never know. In that moment, I felt very lucky. Oh, so damn lucky. Something inside of me grew, something felt warm and bright. It would take a lot of work, and a very long time. I would need to give my best effort, and not let the demons inside lock me up again. I could do it. I can do it. We can do it. We will do it.

I finally looked into Liam’s eyes, really looked. I took in his words, his sincerity, and his expression.

For the first time, I felt a real smile curve up at my face. I decided I would like to smile more often, it felt pretty damn good. There was only one thing I could say to him as I tangled my fingers in along his hair.

“Thank you.”

The snow outside had no right to watch the scene unfold, yet each flake seemed to be applauding as they fell frequently beyond the window. They knew as well as I did, this was going to be one hell of a ride.