Where Do We Go From Here?

The rest of school dragged on with the same kind of attention I had been receiving earlier. It wasn’t until I was at work that things started to feel normal. I spent my entire time at work forgetting the fact that I was a part of the gossip’s mill run and the fact that I was with Tony, someone I never thought I would have been with. At work I felt like the Verity I’ve always known; the outsider who didn’t mind being an outsider. I don’t think I ever pined to be someone noticed in school, since I always knew that school was a temporary thing that will act as a stepping stone for my future.

Driving home from work, I started blasting The Killers through my speakers. I was singing along to Mr. Brightside when I was immediately silenced at the sight of ambulance lights flashing from my driveway. I felt a wave of trepidation crash into me as I slowed my speed and pulled up to the curb. Quickly throwing my gear into park, I rushed out of my car just in time to see the medics carting Veronica into the back of the vehicle. My breath caught in my throat as I saw my mother and father bustle behind them. My mother was in tears as my father, who at the moment held himself together, climbed into the back of the ambulance. It was like the wind was knocked out of me as the ambulance peeled away from my driveway, its sirens blaring down the street. I was frantic at first because the sirens startled me. However, I soon calmed down when I realized my mother was standing nearly two feet away from me.

I walked over to my mother who was stifling her cries and wrapped her in a hug. I wasn’t sure who needed comforting more, me or my mother, but in that moment I just wanted to make my mother feel better.

“This is my fault.” She hiccupped.

I was shushing her and rubbing her back while leading her back into the house. “It’s not your fault mom.” I said softly, even though I had no idea what happened or what she was referring to.

We sat on the couch in the living area as my mother wiped away her tears. She didn’t cry often, and when she did it meant that things were serious. It’s the reason why I too was getting worried.

“I’m the one who booked her first modeling job when she was fourteen.” My mother said before adding “I encouraged her to model. This could have been avoided if she didn’t go into modeling in the first place.”

I remained quiet since I didn’t know what to say. I mean, what could I have possibly said to make her feel better? I was at a loss of words as I continued to rub small circles in my mother’s back, silently comforting her.

I remember that day when my mother proposed the idea to Veronica. We had just come home from school and my mother had set a number of pamphlets out on the table. It was modeling agencies in search for young, fresh, new models. I knew that this wasn’t directed to me so I didn’t pay attention to the details that my mother launched into. However, Veronica was sold. I could see the way her eyes shined like diamonds and the way her voice squeaked with excitement.

That night my mother called Sunrise Ridge Model’s agency where she spoke with a woman named Tammy Hayes, who would then became Veronica’s manager for such things. It was the beginning of Veronica’s successful modeling career, scoring herself printed advertisements and a few commercials that didn’t just air in San Diego. Veronica became a regular in the model circuit that it soon became her income throughout her teen years. Modeling paid for our trip to France—something that Veronica gladly paid for since it was her way of thanking my parent’s.

I remember flipping through magazines and seeing Veronica’s face. She was strikingly beautiful, and it wasn’t only because she perfected a smize at such a young age. No, Veronica had a hauntingly beautiful face. She had high cheekbones with green eyes that sparkled beneath overhead lighting. Her thick lashes hooded her haunting stare that could draw people in whenever they saw her picture. I remember coming across that ad and stopping to observe her face. We were sisters who shared the same gene pool, and yet we looked nothing alike.

I’ve accepted my role as the ugly sister a long time ago, but I couldn’t help but think when Veronica started to feel insecure about herself. I wanted to know the exact moment when she peered at her own reflection and didn’t see a beautiful face staring back. I wanted to know why she started starving herself for modeling jobs since back here in San Diego she never had to stoop to such extremes. I wondered if maybe it was a comment someone made about Veronica, taking a jab at her weight even though she was naturally frail and thin to begin with. Her height added to the extreme sight of Veronica’s weight. I was 5’8” while Veronica topped me with 5’10”. The thought of someone making my sister feel like this fueled an unruly fire in my brain because Veronica was never fat, never ugly, never undesirable. She was always beautiful in my eyes.

I was instantly snapped back into reality when my mother asked “How was your day?”

“It was okay.” I said but I wasn’t feeling okay at the moment. “Mom, none of this was your fault.” I added in a small voice.

I heard her sigh. “It might not have been, but as a mother you’d think I’d have the prerogative to innately know when my kids aren’t feeling like themselves.”

“What happened, anyway?” I asked even though a part of me didn’t want to know the specifics.

“Ronnie was eating just as we had all seen over these past few days. However, your sister has been throwing up her food while in the shower.” My mother said in a soft, wavering voice.

I felt myself intake a large puff of air. “I thought that Moira lady was supposed to be helping her.”

My mother’s features softened more at the sound of my voice cracking. “Moira was doing her best, but your sister also needs to be willing to recover. If she can’t accept that she has a problem then there’s nothing we can do.”

My mother was always so reasonable that it helped ease my frantic brain. “What’s gonna happen now?” I asked hesitantly.

“Your father and I have been discussing some ideas and since our original plan didn’t go as smoothly as we hoped, we thought it would be best that she goes into rehab where she will have people who know how to deal with this at her dispense.” My mother answered calmly.

“Rehab?” I questioned.

She sighed. “We wanted to avoid it, but with today’s episode we figured Veronica needs more than family at the moment.”

I nodded since forming words at the moment seemed impossible. My throat had tightened in a vice grip which was my anxiety.

“I think I’m gonna finish up on my homework.” I said while getting up from the couch. “If you hear anything from dad or the hospital, please tell me.” I said softly before ascending up the staircase.

Notes

Just as I promised, my last update for the night! Hope you like it guys <3

I actually enjoy building up Veronica's character because she really does have an effect on the story.

As for my other story, it's on hold because this one is taking most of my writing time. But once this story finishes, I'll pick 'On The Edge' back up.

Thanks for reading! And let me know what you think :)