Paint Me Beautiful

You said she was getting better, ” Marlena whispers, voice harsh as she takes a step back and puts a hand to her chest. “Oh my God, I have to call an ambulance.”
    “ Marlena, she is better. She's eating again.” Emmett looks at me over his shoulder, brown eyes wide and worried. “You're eating again, aren't you, Claire?”
    Marlena swings her purse around, so she can get quick access to it, digging through the gaudy golden bag like I've just suffered a gunshot wound to the abdomen and am bleeding out on the floor.
    “ Please, stop,” he tells her, stepping forward and trying to take the phone away. My sister scrambles around him, white heels clattering on the pavement as she pulls away from his reach, face scrunched in horror. Her eyes are flicking here and there, taking in all the details, noticing the bags under my eyes, the cuts on my arms, my swollen lips. When next our eyes meet, I can see that she knows everything already.
    “ Don't you fucking touch me, your pervert,” she growls at Emmett as she slides along the wet hedges that line the pathway and tries to grab my scarred arm. I step back and into the wet grass, moving away as the wind picks up and sticks the folds of my gown against my calves. “I can't even believe you, having the audacity to lie to my face in my place of business, and then you, you … ” Marlena knows that Emmett and I had sex. She's that observant which is why I've always thought her to be dangerous. Just the way Emmett and I tease the air with electricity when we're together is enough to tell her all sorts of things.
    “ Fucked a corpse?” I say sarcastically. Marlena blinks quickly, phone still stuck in her hand like it's glued there. She stares at me and just shakes her head. “That's what you were thinking, isn't it? How on earth could he want to touch me? ”
    “ Claire, no, I – ”
    “ Why would anyone want to touch me? I'm so grotesque, I should be euthanized just to put me out of my misery. That's what you think. I know it is.”
    “ Claire, you need help.” Marlena is crying now like she's the one who's suffering, but she's not. I am. I am the one that's suffering. “You're … you're just skin and bones.”
    “ Stop saying that!” I scream, clenching my hands at my sides. “I'm fat. I am fucking fat and huge and disgusting, so just shut the fuck up!”
    “ Claire, you're sick. We need to get you to the hospital.”
    “ So they can put a feeding tube in her nose? Strap her down?” Emmett asks, angry for the first time since I've met him. His full mouth is down turned and his brow is scrunched. He holds his shoulders back and his chin down, like he's trying to stay in control of himself. “Is that what you really want for your sister? Do you think that's what she wants?”
    “ In a week you've managed to take her from bad to worse. Now she's harming herself? What if she becomes suicidal? I don't care what she wants. This about saving her life.”
    “ Stop talking about me like I'm not here!” I screech at them both. Emmett stops and looks at me, but Marlena keeps going.
    “ I'm calling my parents and then an ambulance and we're getting Claire out of here.”
    “ You can't tell me what to do,” I whisper as the wind picks up and the sunshine dims. See, I told you the storm hadn't passed yet. Sometimes I wonder what would've happened if Marlena hadn't come by. Would my revelation on the rope ladder have been enough along with Emmett's love? I don't know; I never get to find out. “If you take me away from here, you'll destroy me.”
    “ Claire,” she says, bending down on one knee like I'm an animal about to bolt. “You've already destroyed yourself. Enough is enough.” She holds out her hand. “Come here and sit with me while we wait.”
    “ Don't talk to me like I'm stupid,” I say, looking down at her face with cold yes. “I can still think for myself.” Marlena shakes her head and puts a hand to her forehead before standing up and finishing her call without any consideration for my words or my wants. I really hate her in that moment.
    “ Please reconsider,” Emmett begs her while he searches my face, trying to see where I'm at and what I might do. If he was afraid before, he's terrified now.
    “ Dad?” Marlena says, beginning her conversation with a hiccup and a sob. “Dad, Claire is sick. She's dying, Dad. Claire is dying.”
    Her voice fades to black, Emmett's to silver, the sound of the wind to white. I close my eyes and