the second battle

Have I mentioned that I do not like people all "up in my face"? The fact is, that I am a very good liar, and if I do not want you in my business, you won't stand a chance - that is a fact. If you push me I will fight - I always have.

It started with that teacher - calling my dad - acting like she knew me - knew what I needed. That's when I started to fight - and at 13 I used what ammo I had.

The not eating was a big deal. A VERY big deal. I didn't mean it to be. It didn't start out that way. It started by skipping a meal at summer camp.

I was preoccupied, things on my mind, but the why is not important. Like missing one sloppy tuna-fish sandwich is going to kill me . . . but when you are 13 and you skip communal dining, everybody knows. The pastor stops first - to check on me. Then Pete, then JP, then Shelly comes in laughing like crazy. She sits on my bed and says, "Wow - half the camp is talking about the fact that you missed that crappy lunch."
"Why?"
"Don't know - but you are in trouble."
She's right - but it's trouble of the strangest kind. My counselor asks if I am OK. She pats my head, calls me sweetie. She walks me to the dining hall. It's embarrassing. I sit down and the whole table is staring at me but pretending not to. Dinner is meatball something - it is mushy and full of gravy. Nobody else looks too jazzed about eating it either - so why are they all looking at me?

I don't eat it, not even when the camp director asks me to sit at her table so she can talk to me. I am tired in a way I have never felt before, but Shelly and I both laugh at the ruckus this is causing.

The whole thing drags on - for days.
And it is only the beginning.
I have not been able to control anything in my entire life, and I have just been handed the ultimate weapon.