Peanut Butter Cups
I’m seven, dressed as an angel, funning my pumpkin bad empty still. Daddy was against candy, so for him to let me get it this year was a surprise. The first house I go to there is only one light on, the grass looks like Daddy’s back hair, and the windows look like they want to cry. I ring the doorbell, ready to bolt if somebody too scary appears. The old lady opens the door, and smiles a face splitting grin.
“Nobody ever comes to my house” she muses.
She gives me all the peanut butter cups; there must have been almost 30. I race back to my parents, but when daddy sees how many pieces I have, he snatches the bag away, and pushes me down.
“Your too fat already” he bellows, his stomach jiggling like the red jell-o I’m not allowed to eat, “no candy for you.”
I’m on the ground crying looking into mommy’s eyes, knowing she can’t do anything to help. Daddy throws the candy at me and stalks off. I get home that night and even though it’s a holiday mommy and daddy are fighting. Daddy shouts nobody loves me or mommy, I know that’s true, without daddy nobody would take care of me and mommy. I surround myself with the peanut butter cups, they love me and they never hit me. I unwrap their shiny cover and slowly let the chocolate and peanut butter run down my throat as if it’s a race to my stomach. I eat all 30, just to feel empty inside, like I do for the next 10 years of my life.
Twix
Mom had to work; I’m nine and get allowance now. Dad stays home, mostly with his friends- all girls- and forgets about me. I run to the store around the corner before dad gets up and but two bags of Twix bars. I get home and thrust them under my bed as I hear dad come up the stairs. He comes in my room, but says nothing since I’m under the covers. He leaves and I wait what seems like hours just to climb out of my dark hide out. The Twix bars were calling my name urging me to sneak just one. I resist and go down stairs; dad is at the table with a plate big enough for grandma’s thanksgiving turkey, filled with pancakes and bacon. He pulls my chair out calling me his little princess. Dads only like this when he has not had his special drink or candy. I eat till I feel my buttons on my shirt pushing into my belly. I run to my room and grab the Twix bars, dad has friends over. Instead of those Lincoln logs I build houses for my Barbies with the Twix bars. I’m so engulfed in the aroma of the chocolate, I don’t hear dad pounding up the stairs.
He bursts in, his eyes dart from me to my candy houses. I can already smell the drink on his breath, up until this day that smell makes me sick, and I know it will not be long until his hands start flying like mosquitoes in July. He yells that I already ate all the food at breakfast, and left none for his friends.
“I’ll teach you to not eat that much you pig,” he roars.
“Daddy I will share with your friends” I try to reason with him.
He lunges for me, pushes me to the bathroom, yelling to a friend. She is blonde, dad calls her his angel. I can see her bones right through her shirt. Dad tells me to look how perfect she is and how ugly I am. I see what he means, I have a little bump you can see through my shirt.
“How do I look like you” I whisper to her.
“Just stick your finger down your throat till you get sick,” she answers, “you eat what you want just don’t let it sit in your stomach.”
Dad tells me I will never be loved by any boy if I don’t look like her, that why he does not love mommy anymore. I dash to the toilet, and throw up right there. Right then and there started the vicious cycle.
Snickers
7thgrade middle school. I hate life, I wish to be loved by somebody, anybody, but I’m not good enough. I weigh 135 lbs. Not good enough, dad says I should be 115lbs. at the most. I finally can do it; I eat no sugar, no sweets, and run two miles a day. It’s all running and throwing up for me. The track and the girl’s bathroom become my home away from home.
One day I go to my friend’s house, she has a bag of mini snickers. If I only eat a few it’s okay they are mini. I devour the bag watching reruns of cartoons, forgetting all about the punishment going to happen once I get home.
I got home knowing I had to throw up, but feared dad would hear me, and I would not be the princess but the punching bag. I waited until the moon came out snuck to the bathroom to start my usual ritual. Dad heard me, and barreled into the small bathroom. Seeing the evidence of my crime, he threw me to the wall. He hit me, over and over, finally I could not take it, I screamed. The neighbor across the hall heard the scream, and her husband, Adam came running in. He shoved dad away and yelled through the open door for jonnie his wife to call the cops. The cops came and took dad away while the doctor fixed the physical wounds, if only he could have seen the emotional ones.
Heath Bars
Dad has been gone for two years now but I still struggle with my weight. I can’t eat any candy without my stomach hurting, and not from the candy, but from the thought of my dad pounding my stomach. I just came back from church camp, it was fun too, I even made a friend, and told him about everything. He was the first one I ever opened up. I was out for my run and stopped at the mailbox to get the mail. There was a letter for me, but it had no return address. I opened it in my room and found two things. First a letter and it read;
Alysha,
I had the best time getting to know you. I wish you would understand how wonderful you are regardless of your past. Please meet me outside the stadium in Traverse City on October 15th.
P.S. Bring the other present with you. Love???
I grabbed the other present and found a heath bar with a note that said; no matter how hard you are to break you are sweet.
I flushed is this real? Two weeks later I’m outside the stadium waiting for Mr. Mystery. Almost everybody is gone and still no sign of him. Is this somebody’s idea of a cruel joke I think to myself. I hear my name then; I whip around to find Jon (my friend from church camp).
“Hi” he says shyly.
“Hi” I mutter
“Sorry for the mystery but I wanted to make you feel special.”
I start to cry, and he pulls me into his arms, holding me close rubbing my back. Oh nobody has done this for so long. He asked if I had the candy bar, and when I replied yes, he asked to share it with me. I asked why it was such a big deal he said I want to share everything with you even your problems.
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