But The Quest for Beauty is a Beast. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Clipped Wings Will Grow All the doors are locked. The priveledged hold the keys. I must be guarded at all times. I must be accompanied to the restroom, crack the stall door, ask for water, ask to go to another room... I can do nothing on my own. I am not allowed. All this because I forgot the simplest of tasks; how to feed myself properly. Yesterday I was allowed a few hours of freedom. I was given a pass with my mom and brother. Immediately I knew it was wrong. From the start my mother set in on the traffic, then the gas bill, then the new car bill. When I told her that I needed money for snacks out and meals out she yelled, "Shut up Gwen!" I knew I was better inside the brick building, hidden from the sun, like a caged bird with its' wings clipped. We went to the beach. We only had twenty minutes. My mom spoke only to my brother, furious at me for being needy. "We are not made of money! That is all that matters to you, isn't it?!" For Mother's Day I had made her a pillow. It took me hours each day, using a latch hook kit, then sewing it together. She said her thanks, but it really wasn't important. Because I am unimportant. I am worse than unimportant. I am important enough to be needy, but not giving. So I am a burden. We came back to the unit fifteen minutes late because my mother made a show of washing off her feet. Because she didn't care if I was late to snack. If I got reprimanded. And I felt so empty. Blackness filled me. A black bile, like thick tar, oozing over my beating organs, slowing my heart, blocking my tear ducts, keeping me exceptionally calm, making it impossible to cry. And I keep gaining weight. A pound a day. Tomorrow I will be up fourteen, at least. And I wonder, after seeing her, is it worth it? And I wonder, how can I afford to do it? Then I wonder, how can I not? For the thought of living in Hell, of dying in Hell, home, is worse than the thought of being selfish by accepting my body, of no longer torturing it, of gaining weight, of anything else that could possibly happen, even being licked by flames. Because I know there I would not die, but slowly grow weaker over the years, and she would grow stronger off of my weaknesses, and then she would suck the spirit out of me, and I would be a shell, a human body,souless, trapped in the dark cave forever. 9:39 p.m. - 2004-05-09 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------------------------------- |
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