03 | T

TRIGGER WARNING :

-> Mention of ED's/disordered eating

KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.

The sounds repeated themselves over and over like a broken metronome unavailingly. If they were hoping for a polite response from the resident of the room, they were better off hoping for a miracle.

Olivia Harton wasn't someone easily distracted once she had fixated herself on a topic. And at the moment, that was exactly the case.

Eyes lasered on the plate of food in front of her, she didn't bother greeting the nurse that entered regardless of her ungiven reply.

The dish consisted of white rice, stir-fried vegetables with mixed nuts, a small portion of chicken on the side as well as a bowl of mixed fruits.

"All elements of the food pyramid." She could almost hear the condescending tone of her therapist.

Nevertheless, she had complied in drafting the meal plan— as per usual. She'd listed down foods she knew she could eat, all safe foods. She wasn't ready to conquer any 'fear' foods, at least not yet. This wasn't Olivia's first rodeo after all. She had battled anorexia and orthorexia since she was thirteen years old ; three long hard years.

Despite that, it still didn't make eating any easier.

The food seemed to swim in front of her eyes, each individual component taunting her in their own ways. From the light-brown gravy drenching the chicken to the oil splashed carelessly on the vegetables, to the white—not brown—rice which seemed to stand out further under the harsh white light of the room.

"Unneeded calories," the voice in her head echoed as her gaze skimmed past the thin slice of butter placed atop the chicken.

Even though her meal plan had never stated any exact calories, it was as if Olivia had a built-in calculator. Better yet she was the built-in calculator. For she had already calculated the calories for this meal down to the last calorie ; 489 calories. 53 grams carbohydrates, 40 grams protein and 13 grams fat.

She couldn't decide what was worse to deal with ; the guilt she knew she would feel after eating or the droning voice in her head telling her every minute that she was awake that she wasn't worth it. The voice that would make an appearance even if she appeased it and didn't eat.

At least if you're skinny, it'll have one less thing to comment about.

Olivia sighed aloud as her thoughts battled themselves internally. Growing up, Olivia had never even dreamed that she would end up in this predicament but even the best people fell.

Before anorexia overtook her life, Olivia had been like every average child her age. She loved playing in the sandbox, never bothering with self-image. It had been when she was 11 that she had become conscious of her appearance, the merciless teasing at school about her chubby cheeks and healthy-looking legs were the reasons Olivia laid awake in bed at night crying.

The drawing point was when one of her brother's best-friends told her that she would have been beautiful..if only she hadn't been so fat.

It had been a gradual incline, starting small with wanting to shed a few pounds in order for herself to fit into a size S. It worked. The merciless teasing seemed to halt and suddenly boys took an interest in her, as though she had passed a criteria on their checklist.

The euphoria only lasted so long. Like many others before her, the voice came back. This time, with a vengeance. Soon, the number on the scale just wasn't pleasing to her anymore. It didn't matter that all of her clothes seemed extra large on her petite body, nothing seemed to be good enough for the voice in her head. Her mind became consumed with how to limit her intake of food. The food she did eat, she would compensate with exercise.

It was a vicious cycle of restrict, eat, exercise and repeat. On and on it went until one day— it didn't. She slipped up.

She had fainted during school hours. The nurses had measured her heart rate, instantly sending her to the local hospital when they found that it was dangerously low. She had woken up to find herself inserted with an NG feeding tube. Soon after, she was diagnosed, labelled, with anorexia.

Her parents sent her off to a treatment centre abroad where she spent over a year and a half getting treatment and recuperating after which the doctors had deemed her well enough to be sent back to Germany.

And she had been doing well. That is, until Serena's suicide.

Olivia Harton had relapsed after discovering about her closest friend's suicide. Though Serena had been a year older, both of them had been closer than two peas in a pod when they were at the treatment centre together.

She was devastated, to put it lightly. She couldn't sleep or eat. Wracked with guilt of being oblivious of the pain Serena was going through sent her on a one-way ticket back to anorexia because she felt that it was her fault for not seeing the signs sooner, that she was a horrible, selfish friend for being so caught up with life that she hadn't even spared her closest friend a call in the recent weeks leading up to her death.

Her weight was something she could control. When everything else in her life was going wrong, she turned to the one thing she could control. Because if she couldn't control the unexpected, she could control what she knew.

Her parents hadn't even batted an eyelash before sending her back when she fainted again from exertion.

Olivia scoffed bitterly, finally picking up her plastic fork, stabbing the plate in anger. Her parents always took the easy way out-after all, it was so easy to pretend that you only had one child when the other was in a hospital in a foreign country.

The rules were simple. Here, you didn't have the privilege to choose. You merely ate whatever the nurses fed you from your drafted meal plan, stay away from the bathroom for two hours, head to therapy and repeat.

It was a generic routine, but Olivia had to begrudgingly say it was better than nothing. She didn't bother interacting much with the girls here, some were nice but others treated their disorder like a competition ; betting on who could eat the least, who could get away with the most and the like.

She made sure she steered clear of girls like that. The stranger stopped in front of Olivia, momentarily uplifting her from her thoughts.

"Olivia," she said gently, "You have a letter."

Only then did Olivia glance up, her sharp eyes scanning over the stranger's features. With apprehension, she spotted the letter the stranger held in her hand.

Though her face remained impassive, inwardly Olivia's eyebrows raised themselves in confusion. Olivia never received letters. Her parents refused to send ones to her in case it got intercepted in the mail and 'ruined' their reputations.

Hesitating, she let the hand of the stranger remain outstretched for an awkwardly long length of time.

The letter could have been a prank or a spiteful message from someone who had discovered where she had resided. After all, bullies were relentless and the amount of information they could uncover was downright startingly.

The stranger gave her a gentle smile, sensing her worry. "It's not from anyone you might fear. I collected this letter from my mother, Dr. Marryweather. She told me you'd really want to read this letter."

Her eyes blinked in brief recognition of the nurse that attended to her daily. Curiosity was now laced her worry as she slowly plucked the letter from the stranger's hand.

As the stranger quietly exited the room, she turned her attention back to the letter, turning it over to see the word 'LIVY' written in neat block letters.

Her heart soared. Only one person ever called her Livy.

***

DEAR OLIVIA,

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry for breaking our promise, for leaving you alone in this cruel cold world. I hate myself for disappointing you this world...it just isn't cut out for me.

I don't believe that this life had a happy ending for me no matter what path I chose, or what choice I made, it all would've fallen down to this time and time again. Everytime I thought I had defeated one of my demons, they just came back even stronger than before.

People always say it gets better, when will they realise it won't?

That sometimes, life doesn't get better before you run out of fuel, before you get tired of fighting.

Believe me because I tried. I tried changing my fate, myself entirely. I tried changing, to be accepted, to reach a point where I didn't want to die when I woke up each time in the morning.

It was as I hit the last wall that I surrendered—entirely and completely.

People thought I had recovered, but I hadn't. I kept counting my calories, kept counting my macronutrients. I felt like I was living a lie. Here I was, convincing everyone around me that I was 'recovered' but going behind their back to do otherwise.

I lived by the routine of restrict, eat, exercise, repeat. I thought that I was fine--but I wasn't. I was falling down a pit of despair and anorexia was just the stepping stone. It wasn't just anorexia that led to my downfall Livy, it was so many other factors that you wouldn't have been able to stop.

Tears flooding her eyes, Olivia paused, needing to take a breather.

Though she had heard stories and had even herself experienced that once you had anorexia, other mental health issues were sure to follow, the strong front Serena had put up had been so convincing that there had never been a doubt in Olivia's mind that her friend was almost recovered.

Olivia had never expected her to choose death.

Serena's death was just the epitome of proof that nothing was always what it seemed like on the surface.

I'm at peace with what I've done. Seventeen years on this earth is still a good chunk of time and I'm so grateful that through my pain, I was able to meet you. Because for these short, few years, you helped heal me, if only briefly. You guided me to be a better version of myself, inspiring me to challenge myself day in and day out.

You're one of the strongest people I know. The one with the kindest heart. The one who knew my darkest secrets.

Livy, I wrote this letter to you because I knew that you'd be shocked, devastated because you were one of the few people that truly cared for my well-being. I knew that you'd want an answer to why I died when you, along with everyone else, thought I was doing fine—improving even.

I was tired Livy, tired. It's literally just that, I feel horrible for saying that because others have it so much worse but it's the truth. I was overcome with this unexplainable feeling of loneliness. It got to the point where I was merely passing through each day by its seconds, minutes and hours.

Time faded into a cross-junction and that was how I came to the realisation that it was my time.

Eventually, you'll come to terms with what I've done and you'd be just the slightest bit more empathetic than others as to why I chose to do this. Because we're both the same, with minds that turn against us when we've done nothing wrong.

We've both been through so much, from that time we met in the clinic till now even when we've both been discharged. The only difference was you finally got rid of the voices, or at the very least, learnt how to live with them. I merely learnt how to hide it.

You were there for me when we both had eating disorders and constantly purged. You were there for me through thick and thin When you found out I had relapsed, you kept it a secret, continuing to be there for me and making sure I ate every meal.

I'll forever remember when we tried to make non-alcoholic Feuerzangenbowle to celebrate new years and I the same with you for Chinese New Year during our overstays at the centre.

Those were good times but, of course, like all good times, they never last.

Nevertheless, I want to thank you.

Thank you, livy, for keeping my secrets ever so safely in your arms. I'm eternally grateful and indebted to you.

You're the strongest person I know, I know you'll get over my death eventually but don't punish yourself for my death. Don't. Don't overthink every little situation we shared or regret the last words that you said to me. Nothing would have worked. Please, just know that I'm at peace now and (hopefully) happier than I've ever been in the last 4 years.

I love you, Livy. One day, I'll see you again.

ALWAYS,

Serendipity

***

OLIVIA'S EYES FILLED with tears once more, but this time, they were tears of acceptance.

There had been so much guilt she had harboured for the past three months.

Notably, her last words to Serena. I'll call you back.

Not even 'I love you', or something more meaningful; no, it was an empty promise of 'i'll call you back' said two weeks before her passing.

Yet, Serena had asked her to move on, to forgive herself.

It wasn't going to be easy, not at all. No one can just erase years of punishment, but in time she would heal. And in a perhaps psychologically crazy way, understood why Serena did what she did.

She truly did.

Not many would, some might think she was weak for losing to something that wasn't even quite real but Olivia knew better.

Her friend was tired, tired of the continuous battle and had finally laid herself to rest with her demons.

As she placed the letter to the side, a key-chain slipped out. A real smile graced Olivia's face as she picked it up.

The key-chain was one she had made with Serena during their stay here ; a transparent casing shaped like a dolphin with a picture of both of them in the middle of it. It was one of the first memories they had made together.

Clutching the key-chain in one hand, she thought of Serena and how the girl wouldn't have wanted her to end up back here.

She swore then and there, that she would make an effort — to get better. For Serena. For the life that she would live for the both of them.

Gritting her teeth together, she picked up her fork with resolve and began to eat.