Chapter Text
Jemilla Madeline Reed had had a wonderful childhood. She had a nice house, nice clothes, nice friends, and lovely parents. Her parents always told her that they’d love her no matter what, and for a very long time, Jemilla believed that. However, as she crept into her teen years, she was beginning to doubt that statement.
Her parents began to expect perfection from her. “You’re a teenager now, Jemilla Madeline. You have to grow up. A ‘B+’ is not acceptable. We want ‘A+’’s from now on. ” (They always used her middle name.) “Jemilla Madeline, I don’t like that girl. Stop being friends with her. What if she does something bad and you get connected to it? How would that look on college applications?” “Jemilla. Madeline. Stop crying. That’s for toddlers.” “Jemilla Madeline, how on earth could you not fit into that dress? We bought it last year. You’re going to have to lose weight.”
It was safe to say that by seventeen, Jemilla hated her parents. She didn’t talk back, because that would earn you a slap across the cheek. She didn’t object when her little sister began getting the same treatment. She would only pull her into their room and let her cry whenever she needed to. She didn’t object when her little brother got the same treatment. Jemilla may have hated her parents, but what could she do about it? All three of them had been adopted. None of them wanted to go back to the foster system and Mr. and Mrs. Reed had an image to uphold. All the kids knew that. That was their main excuse for their behavior.
“Jemilla Madeline, I will not have you going out looking like that. You can see every inch of fat on your body. What if someone from church were to see you?”
“Tiblyn Grace, you stop crying right this instant. I will not have you screaming your head off in public. No child of mine will be misbehaved. What would the papers say? We have an image to uphold, you know.”
“Sebastian Blake, you need to stop talking to that little boy immediately. His dad is gay, which likely means he is the same way. I will not have you grow up to be like that. We simply cannot have that stain on our image.”
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Yeah, Jemilla hated her parents. Tiblyn, who had just turned thirteen already hated herself and Jemilla was doing all she could to keep Tiblyn from turning to the behaviors she had. She knew that they were bad and she absolutely should not do them, but no one had told her not to. She lost weight, which pleased her parents. She cut herself, which pleased her. Jemilla did not want Tiblyn to go down the path she had. She got Tiblyn to talk to her, late at night, when their parents were asleep. Jemilla made herself the person she didn’t have.
She also tried to get Sebastian (SB, as he preferred to be called. Their parents never called him that, but Jemilla and Tiblyn did when it was safe.) to open up. SB was a ten-year-old boy who, naturally, was not always in the mood for listening to his older sisters. He did talk to them, though. Whenever he needed to, he knew that Jemilla and Tiblyn would be in their room, willing to talk to him.
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Jemilla controlled nearly every aspect of her life. There were somethings she couldn’t control, like her feelings, her siblings, her parents’ thoughts of her. But what she could control, she did. She planned what she was going to wear (always conservative clothing in pastel colors. Always skirts, never pants. Always white converse, never bright colors. Always glasses, never contacts.). She planned her week meticulously (tutor kids on Mondays, student council on Tuesdays, work at the library on Wednesdays, meals on Thursdays, work again on Fridays, “family time” on Saturdays and church on Sundays). She planned her meals. Well, actually, it was just a meal. One meal, on Thursday afternoons. She would snack throughout the week so she wouldn’t pass out, but she only ever ate a full meal once a week. If she was forced to eat a full meal outside of that time (dinner, usually), she would eat it, to be polite, but as soon as she could, she would stick her fingers down her throat and throw it back up. She didn’t like how the weight of the food made her feel. Besides, what would her mom say? Most likely, “Jemilla Madeline, I can’t believe you’ve gained more weight. You were doing so well.”
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No one noticed that she didn’t eat. Jemilla got up before anyone else, so saying that she ate before Tiblyn or SB came downstair was easy. She spent lunch in the library, reading. Usually, she was alone, except for the librarian, Mrs. Richardson, and a few teachers that came in. They never minded because it was Jemilla Reed, who was practically perfect in every way. She ate dinner with her family, hating every second of it and throwing it back up afterward.
Jemilla had expected the library to be the same as it always had when she walked in one Monday in October. She crossed over her usual corner in the fiction section and sat down on the floor. She pulled out her most recent book, Wintergirls by Laurie Halse Anderson, and began to read. She sat in peace when she heard someone coming. She glanced up from her book and saw someone she had never seen before. It was a short girl with long brown hair and a dark green t-shirt tucked into jeans. Given her height, Jemilla would’ve guessed that she was a freshman, but you never knew. Maybe she was a junior, like Jemilla. The girl looked lost in thought when Jemilla spoke, “Hello...”
The girl jumped. “Jesus! I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there. I was looking for a hiding spot, but it seems you’ve already taken this one. I’m new here. Don’t really know where the best places to escape are.” Jemilla nodded but didn’t say anything. “My name’s Elizabeth Cole, but for the love of God, do not call me that. I go by Zazzalil or Zazz. I-” she paused. “I’m rambling. Sorry. Nervous habit. I’m sure you’re spending lunch in here to be alone, but would you mind some company? I promise I won’t talk, but you know…” she trailed off.
Jemilla contemplated for a moment before patting the carpet next to her. Zazzalil sat down and Jemilla spoke again. “I’m Jemilla Reed. I’m a junior and class president. This is where I spend lunch if you ever want to find me.” Jemilla was shocked at herself. Talking to someone who wasn’t Mom-approved? What was she doing? She couldn’t have someone here during lunch! Zazzalil would notice that she wasn’t eating! Jemilla was going to have to cut tonight. How could he be so stupid?
“I’m also a junior!” Zazz spoke up. “I’ll probably take you up on that offer. Seems like a nice place to eat lunch.” Jemilla nodded her head, screaming at herself.
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That afternoon, Jemilla did exactly as planned. After she picked up SB and Tiblyn, they all went to the library so Jemilla could tutor someone. SB and Tiblyn went over to where the legos were and began to play. When it was time to go, the three of them drove home. All of them went into Jemilla and Tiblyn’s room to do homework until dinner time. Jemilla ate her meal, put her dishes into the dishwasher and went upstairs. She opened the door to the bathroom and gagged herself until she had gotten everything out of her system. Usually, she would’ve rinsed with mouthwash, washed her hands, and gone back to her room, but today was different.
She had talked to someone. Someone who clearly wanted to be friends with her. That someone did not go to their church. That someone was not Mom-approved. Jemilla took a blade out of the medicine cabinet and cut it into her hip. Small, hairline cuts, so that once they healed over, it would be impossible to tell anything had happened. She cut once, twice, ten times before rinsing off the blade and sticking it back to it’s hiding spot and going to bed.