He exploded. He kicked the kitchen door off its hinges with a sickening crack. Then he swept his arm across the table, sending glasses and plates crashing to the floor.
“Dad, please! No!” Emily begged, but he didn’t even seem to see her. He was lost in his own rage, a beast unleashed.
The horror of that night was never to be forgotten. The people who were supposed to be Emily’s safe place had become something else. That staggering, slurring man was not her dad. And her mum’s face that streaked with mascara and tears was not the face of the calm, strong woman she knew. They were strangers, monstrous versions of themselves.
Fear and shame became Emily’s constant companions. There had been times, back before Mum moved into her room, when Dad would wet the bed. Emily was so ashamed. At first, Mum would pull off his wet trousers and underwear, her face tight with disgust. Then, she just stopped. In the morning, he'd strip off the soaked clothes himself, a look of weary disgust on his face before shuffling towards the bathroom. The heavy, acrid smell of urine would linger in the big room for days. Sometimes, he wouldn't even make it to the bathroom, and the hall or the living room would be stained. He'd vomit in the bath, leaving Mum to clean it.
His binges would last for three or four weeks, turning the house into a living hell. He gave his wages to Mum, but when he needed money for a drink, he would first beg, and then force it out of her. The gentle giant, slowly dissolving into a monster.
Emily just wanted him to stop. She just wanted her mum to smile again. She just wanted her family back.
Jessica's stomach rumbled, a loud, embarrassing groan that echoed in the otherwise silent library. Her head swam, and the edges of her vision began to blur. Black spots danced before her eyes. Five days. That was all. In five days, she’d managed two oranges, a single boiled egg, and a handful of leafy greens. There was also the chicken, but she didn’t count that. She’d bolted to the loo and brought it right back up.
“I need to lose weight”, she thought, clutching the edge of the table for balance. “I'm too fat.”
The numbers flashed in her mind, a brutal, unforgiving equation: 54 kilograms. 169 centimetres. It was disgusting. Ann, from her form, was so much better. She floated through the halls, a wisp of a girl at a mere 49 kilograms. The older lads noticed her. Everyone wanted to be her boyfriend. Jessica? Invisible. She was always on her own.