Chapter Twenty Seven
Third Person POV.
Amber stirred from her deep sleep, her entire body weak from exhaustion. The abrupt sound of the doorbell
ringing pierced her ears, jolting her awake for a few fleeting moments.
She groaned, burying her face in the pillow, hoping that whoever was at the door would simply give up and go
away. She desperately wanted to find peace in the comforting embrace of sleep, and the fact that someone had
cut short her sleep, made her extremely cranky.
She pretended to not hear the doorbell, covering her head with a pillow to block out the sound. But as the
ringing persisted, growing more insistent by the second, frustration overrode her weariness.
Amber grumbled under her breath, tugging herself out of bed and trudging towards the front door, her
steps heavy with annoyance.
As she approached the door, she spared a fleeting glance at the monitor to confirm who it was that had
interrupted her precious sleep at such an ungodly hour.
Her eyes widened in surprise and irritation when she saw Alison's face displayed on the screen. Of
all the people she had hoped to avoid, Alison was at the very top of the list.
“Oh, for crying out loud,” Amber muttered in exasperation, her annoyance palpable in her voice. She had been
dodging Alison’s attempts to reach out for days, not wanting to deal with her persistent nagging for her to seek
therapy.
Therapy was the last thing Amber wanted at the moment, and facing Alison’s relentless insistence would only
add more stress to her already chaotic life.
She also didn’t want to have anything to do with Alison, because she was starting to think that Alison didn’t
understand her pain as well as she wanted, and her nonchalance toward her anger had made Amber believe that
she wasn’t on her side.
With a resigned sigh, Amber reluctantly opened the door, the weariness etched on her face transforming into
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtforced politeness. “Alison,” she greeted curtly, her tone laced with frustration. “To what do | owe this early
morning visit?”
15:57 Thu, 29 Feb G BB.
Chapter Twenty Seven
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Alison’s face contorted into a slight frown as she looked at Amber, concern and worry etched on her. face. “For
goodness sake Amber, I've been trying to get in touch with you for days now, and you haven't been picking up
my calls,” she hissed, her voice tinged with mocking anger. “Do you have any
idea how worried I've been in the last few days?”
Amber sighed, her expression devoid of any sign of interest. “But | remember telling you that | was
doing just fine, Alison. Stop worrying aboutlike I'm ssick person that needs to be taken care
of,” she hissed, hating how Alison made her feel like a patient on the run.
“But you're sick, Amber! Why in the world do you keep trying to pretend like everything is okay when
you and | both know it’s not?” Alison hissed.
Amber scoffed. “And what is it that’s wrong withaccording to you, Alison?”
Alison sighed, her frustration evident. “What did you have for dinner last night?” she asked suddenly, causing
Amber to furrow her brows in confusion.
“What exactly is that question supposed to mean? How is it relevant to what | asked?” she retorted.
“Just answer the question, Amber!” Alison snapped.
Amber sighed. “I had a heavy lunch late in the afternoon, so I didn’t need to eat anything for dinner,” she
responded.
“Did you throw up again last night?” Alison asked.
“I already told you that | stopped throwing up a long tago, Alison. I'm fine now!” Amber responded
defensively, feeling sick and tired of Alison treating her like she was dying.
“You're not fine, Amber. You're not! How can someone who can’t sleep without popping several sleeping pills,
and grows thinner and thinner every day be okay? For Pete's sake, the woman in front ofisn’t the Amber |
know!”
Amber stood there, the weariness etched on her face, staring at Alison with anger flickering in her eyes. “Did you
seriously cto my place this early in the morning just to questionabout what | eat and remindthat |
suffer from insomnia?” she seethed, her voice dripping with frustration. “Is that why you're here, to monitor my
life?”
Alison coffer har avnression filled with avasneration “Amhar | chere to check on my friend”
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Chapter Twenty Seven
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Alison scoffed, her expression filled with exasperation. “Amber, | chere to check on my friend,” she retorted
sharply. “You clearly haven't been eating properly, and I'm worried about you. | can’t just stand by and watch
you ruin your health.”
Amber's anger flared, her voice laced with anger. “It’s none of your da mn business what | eat and don’t eat, or
how | take care of my health,” she spat back, crossing her arms over her chest. “I'm doing just fine, so stop
botheringand treatinglike I'm skind of dying patient.”
Alison shook her head, her voice filled with frustration. “Amber, you know as well as | do that you have struggled
with your eating habits for a while now,” she stated firmly. “Even if you don’t want to return to therapy with me
for whatever reason, you can’t just ignore the fact that you need help when it comes to your eating disorder.”
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Amber's anger flared into a blaze, her voice rising as she shouted back, “I don’t have an eating disorder!” She
felt a surge of irritation at Alison's persistence, at her refusal to believe that Amber could handle her issues on
her own.
Alison’s gaze met Amber's, the worry etched in her eyes. “Then how else do you explain your constant lack of
appetite?” she challenged her voice a gentle but firm demand for truth. “Or your inability to digest cooked food?
And let's not forget your tendency to throw up after every meal.”
Amber's frustration with Alison shifted into a mixture of frustration and self-disgust. She sighed heavily, hating
the fact that Alison was right. For weeks now, she had barely been able to stomach anything, and even when she
forced herself to eat, it always ended in nausea and vomiting. Even last
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anything, and even when she forced herself to eat, it always ended in nausea and vomiting. Even last night,
despite how much she had enjoyed Martha's food, she still ended up throwing it all up before bed.
The thought of cooked food made her stomach churn, leading her to live off snacks, soda, and alcohol instead.
“Get out, Alison!” Amber snapped, not wanting to hear anything else.
“Amber, I'm trying to-"
“I said get the hell out of my house, Alison! And don’t cback if all you care about is making me
into a sick person.”
15:57 Thu, 29 Feb GBB.