School days have already gotten tiring by the end of the first week back from spring break. I hardly had the energy to make it through the day, and lunch today just made it a bit worse I think. Sophie’s the best sister ever, but when she gets angry it’s almost like looking into mom’s eyes when someone broke a vase. I was scared out of my mind that she was going to do something in the middle of the school, but she just made me eat a sandwich. Not what I wanted, but it wasn’t the whole lunch.

The past few days have also been kind of… bad, to say the least. After Monday, the kids only got worse about saying I was going to have Grandma Emilia’s body, so by Thursday I thought of something. If I didn’t eat much, I wouldn’t grow much. It was simple logic.

Yesterday I had ditched my food where I could, and made sure that dinner didn’t stay with me for long. I think it made me happier, but I wasn’t sure in all honesty. I definitely felt something from doing it, but I wasn’t sure what. At least not yet. Maybe a feeling of triumph from defying what those kids said about me. I’d have to wait and see to say for sure.

I walked out of the front doors of the school and saw Dad waiting for Sophie and I in the car, computer on his lap. He didn’t even quite notice me until I knocked on the car and he let me in. 

“How was school?”

“It was fine.”

“Learn anything cool?”

“Below us are a lot of dead people’s bones.”

“Interesting curriculum…” Dad mumbled, maybe a bit concerned. “I’ll bring that up at the next parent-teacher conference.”

“How was your day, dad?”

“Been working, Ben. And stopping your mother from gardening again.”

“Not again,” I shivered.

Sophie opened the door and hopped in the car, buckling up so we could take off. I could tell something was definitely wrong though. When she saw me she still looked angry, or at the very least upset. She didn’t say anything though. I took out my phone and texted her.

“Hey,” I texted. “Did I do something? You look upset.”

“We’ll talk when we get home.”

Those were six spine-chilling words to hear from my sister. It was like looking at my obituary. I didn’t like long talks, but my sister’s talks were soul-draining. She just kept talking, and talking, and talking… I was brain dead by the end of it all.

When we got home, Dad ruffled my hair and went off to go back to work. My sister and I placed our backpacks on the kitchen table and started taking homework out. The whole time, I was completely on edge at what Sophie was going to talk to me about. 

“Ben,” she said, leering my way. “You want to ask me something?”

“Y-yeah… w-what’s w-w-wr-“

“Ben, words. Don’t stutter.”

I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and calmed down.

“You just looked angry… What’s wrong?”

I prayed it wasn’t going to be about lunch today.

“You’ve been acting weird lately, Ben.”

“Weird how?”

“I-I don’t know, just weird!” she said, shaking her hands. “You’re keeping your distance from everyone and won’t say anything!”

“But we’re talking right now.”

“That’s not what I mean. You’re hesitating on eating dinner, and how about when you tried to leave without packing lunch? How about when you gave away your lunch?!”

“Just make something up,” said a voice in the back of my head.

I read once that storytellers make the best liars, so the best way to tell if someone’s a crafty liar is to have them write you a story. Because a lie is basically just telling a convincing story for others to believe, like if you were trying to write something. I don’t know if it’s really true or not, but I knew I was good at storytelling.

“I’ve just felt out of it. Being out of the country then back in, and going back to school without having anyone who really gets me is just hard…”

“So why the lunch?” she pressed, not letting up.

“I’ve just had a lot on my mind from school, and it slipped past me. It won’t happen again. Honest.”

“And giving it away?”

“I can’t stop kids if one decides he wants to reach into my lunchbox. When one does it, they all do it, and I’m not really strong enough to stop them.”

Sophie looked at me for a few seconds, eyes narrowed as if deciding if I was feeding her bold-faced lies, which I kind of was. Like all stories, there were some truths in there that she knew to make it believable. At last, she sighed and gave me a worried look.

“Listen, just don’t slack on basic living and I won’t be on your back. You know how Mom and Dad are with that kind of stuff. You know how they’d see it.”

When she said that, it reminded me there was one more thing I had to do so I could get away from this unscathed.

“Promise to keep this between us?” I asked, holding out my pinky. Sophie winced slightly and wore a face of guilt, which told me that she was planning on probably telling Dad about me before I stopped her. Reluctantly, she held out her pinky and met it with mine.

“Promise…” she painfully whispered.

*   *   *   *   *

Tonight we ate dinner on time, and it was spaghetti and meatballs. It wasn’t fancy, but I think Dad burned whatever he was going to give us first. I did think it was a bit strange that Mom was happy to set the table, but that’s only before I saw her trick tonight.

“Sorry Kevin,” Mom sighed. “I just can’t seem to get the food in my mouth tonight.”

“Are you using a spoon for spaghetti?” he asked, narrowing his eyes.

“Like I said honey, I just can’t seem to do it.”

“Diane, go get a fork.”

Mom grumpily got up to get herself some silverware she could actually eat with. I have to say, all of mom’s attempts are always tricky, but aren’t practical for actually getting away with anything. She’s been doing it for years, but can’t seem to cover her tracks well.

I, on the other hand, had been twirling around pasta and letting it fall off my fork for minutes. I stopped when I felt a small kick from under the table from Sophie. When I glanced over, she acted like nothing was wrong and kept eating, but I could sense some tension from her. Fine, I could eat some.

I stabbed into a meatball and held it up to my mouth. My hand shook slightly and my teeth shaved a small piece off of the food, swallowing it.

“Hm… eating dinner, again are we?” said a small voice in my head.

“Sophie’s going to kill me if I don’t.” I countered.

“And the food’s going to make you massive if you do. You know what those kids said about you is true. You’ll end up like Grandma Emilia if you don’t watch yourself. You’re already halfway there anyway.”

“But it’s just one dinner…”

“And you wouldn’t say it’s just one drop of poison!” the voice growled. “So drop the food, and find a way to weasel your way out of-”

“Ben!” Dad said, interrupting my thoughts. I realized that everyone at the table was staring at me, and I dropped my fork. I had been just holding it to my mouth, shaking. They all looked at me, concerned; especially Mom and Dad. “Ben, are you ok?”

“I- Yeah, I’m fine,” I said, rubbing my eyes. “I’m sorry, I just spaced out again.”

I did have a habit of just staring into space all the time, so my excuse wouldn’t really be that out there. The excuse seemed to calm down Mom and dad.

“You had us worried for a sec, Ben,” laughed Mom lightly.

“Yeah, I thought you fell asleep at the table,” admitted dad.

We all had a small laugh about it and continued eating. In the end I ate all my dinner, and without seconds. I did notice that Sophie was giving me a side-eye the whole time though. Clearly she saw through the lie, but wasn’t about to say anything. I was in the clear, but I still had something I had to do tonight.

*   *   *   *   *

“Time to get up.”

I had been lying awake for about half an hour, and decided it was time I made my move again tonight. I knew Dad was still awake and in his office, and I think Sophie was probably asleep. I nodded off for a few minutes once or twice, but she was always asleep by this time.

I slipped on a pair of fuzzy socks to block out as much noise as possible. I wasn’t taking chances with people hearing me, even if most don’t listen as much as I do. I cracked my door open and bolted out of my room and into the bathroom. Naturally, nobody saw me.

I closed the bathroom door and sighed as I made my way over to the toilet. The fun part was sneaking around; here was the worst part. I did this last night too, and it was horrible, but I needed to do it. My hands shook as I held two fingers up to my mouth.

“Good boy,” said that voice again. “It’s showtime, Benjie.”

Down my throat I forced my fingers, and up my stomach forced my dinner. Or, at least what was left of it. It was terrible looking back at it once it was up, and I closed my eyes the best I could while doing it.

After I was done with doing it, I heaved my chest and flushed the toilet. I wiped my mouth and got up, ready to just go back to bed. My blood froze and my mouth went dry; my heartbeat also immediately picked up tenfold. Standing in the doorway was Sophie with her hands covering her mouth. She looked terrified out of her mind.