Breathe Me (A 'Me' Novel) Read Online Free Page A

pain in my back, I got up and, after setting the intact container on the table, started cleaning the mess off the floor. I was afraid to turn my back on her but more afraid of what she’d do if I didn’t clean up the mess fast enough. She watched me the whole time, my heart beating erratically. When I got up to go and put the food in the trash, she stopped me.
    “What are you doing with that?”
    “I…I was putting it in the trash. There is another container.” I gestured over to the table where I had set the other one down.
    “So you are not eating? We don’t have money to waste on food because you can’t hold a bag right.”
    “But it spilled on the floor. It’s trash now,” I said meekly.
    “So? You are what you eat. Come sit and eat. Stop wasting food.” She looked at me expectantly, daring me to challenge her. Of course I wouldn’t. I never did. Fear had rooted me to that spot, and it took her fist connecting with the back of my head to spur me into action.
    I went over and plated her food, then plated my messy burger and fries and set them on the table for us. I sat across from her and watched her as she ate. With every bite she took, she gave me a look as if to say, “EAT.”
    “I’m not really hungry. I was going to take this for lunch tomorrow,” I tried and lied. I was starving, but I didn’t want to eat off the floor that I knew hadn’t been cleaned in at least a week.
    “You need to eat. Look at you, straight as a board. Maybe some of that food will go to your breasts and ass, since you don’t have either of those.” She gave me the once-over as she said this. It wasn’t necessary. I knew that at 5'7", I was too tall and awkward and had no curves whatsoever. I found it amazing that I was able to get Ember and everyone else to believe my stories, considering the body I had.
    My mother suddenly slammed her fist down on the table, causing the salt and pepper shakers to topple over. “EAT. I won’t tell you again.”
    With tears stinging in my eyes, I picked up a fry and nibbled it. It wasn’t so bad. They’d probably been cooked in worse. Maybe I could get by with just eating the fries. I never finished my burgers, anyway.
    “Eat the burger. You can’t get an ass with just fries,” she said with such malice in her voice I swore she was enjoying it, which she probably was.
    I looked at the burger. I knew the black flecks on the bun and in the cheese were not sesame seeds, and I almost vomited. I had to do this; otherwise, the outcome would be worse. I had to weigh my options: either suffer a stomachache or a blow to the stomach. Slowly, I picked up the burger, swallowing back the cry in my throat. I didn’t cry. I knew she got off on it, and I hated to give her the satisfaction. I bit into the burger and chewed as fast as I could to swallow it down. She watched me the entire time, taking bites of her own and smiling at me like we were having a normal family dinner and I was telling her about my day. After my last bite, I waited to be excused. And when she finally said I could go, I all but ran to the bathroom and turned on the shower and the sink to mask the sounds of my vomiting.
    I stayed in the bathroom, inspecting my head where she had hit me. She was always careful, always. I felt a knot forming on the base of my neck that my hair would cover. I tried to look at my back in the mirror, but then I stopped. What was the point? My clothes would just cover it up if it was bruised. I showered and stayed in the bathroom. She wouldn’t bother me anymore tonight if I stayed in here. I cried silently and thought back on what I could have possibly done to make her hate me so much that she would find joy in hurting me. I stayed in the bathroom until I was sure she was in her room sleeping, then I crept to my room and lay on my stomach and dreamed of a place where I was strong. A place where I was strong enough to fight back, strong enough to make her stop.
    A place where I was strong enough