Holy Water

Here is a story that Keli wrote for an English class.

Holy Water 

My days are busiest early in the mornings or after dinner time. The life given to me was built off of being used for everyone’s personal needs and self-relief. I am a necessity for life, more than you may realize. I sit proudly in the corner of the room while knowing that I help people daily. I get bathed once a week by the housekeeper and an occasional checkup by a pipe-fitter. It’s my version of self-care since my work has put a heavy toll on me recently. 

Ever since Keli started high school, she has been feeling life’s pressure now more than ever before. The weight of her aura becomes heavier, even though when she uses me, she becomes airier than the day before. I notice that our session begins with her looking into the mirror when she arrives home from school. She sobs in the quietest way possible. She doesn’t want her family to know how much her mind is filling her up with negativity. I’m not used to seeing Keli this way. I am concerned for her, but right now I am positive I’m the only support she truly has. Normally, I believe I’m a superhero because I am so useful to everyone in their daily lives. Yet, I can see the depression on her face every time she leans toward me. The tears

fall into me as the food she previously ate fills me up with helplessness I could never explain. For the first time ever, I regret being useful to someone. 

Am I the problem? Is she becoming too addicted to my life’s work? Does my ability to vaporize her depression and anxiety fuel her affliction even more? I am the only one that truly knows what is behind the mask she puts on for everyone else to see? I question my existence every day because of her now. My pride and confidence are nowhere to be found. The way she looks at me so desperately with overwhelming pain dissolves my joy in life. Once she’s done with me, Keli always sits back against the wall and stares at me seated on the floor. I can see through her eyes that she has a deep hatred for her bad habits. Her head begins to pound from all the blood she had rushed to it. Yet, Keli also looks relieved that I am the only thing on this earth she doesn’t have to hide from. Her rotting yellow teeth shine toward me. She manages to smile with a moment of bliss because she got rid of her dinner. 

The constant pain she is feeling clearly takes a toll on her body. Every day she is paler, her bones become more visible through her skin, and her hair continues to fall out little by little. It frustrates me. I know she wants to scream for help, but all I ever hear are her prayers to God mumbled under her breath. After the moment of bliss is gone she cries. While seated on the floor with her face in her hands, she says, “Lord take this pain away or take me away from this world. Just do something, I beg you!”. 

Keli continues to give me food without it being fully digested. It breaks my heart knowing that our relationship has been ruined by the mind that keeps her a prisoner. She is suffering, yet this is the closest we have ever been. Those puffy and red eyes I dread to see. The

stream of acid running down her cheeks is a sight I wish to unsee. I hope the pain holding her hostage does not continue. 

Unfortunately, once a day turned into five times a day. I was hoping this would be temporary. But little did I know, our toxic relationship would last for 5 more years. My water cleanses her soul and purifies her mind as often as she needs it to. I have the power to create a moment of relief and wash down the anxiety eating up her mind. I use to be prideful and confident my work meant something to this world. But, Keli has shown me, I can do more harm than good. Will she ever be happy again? Will she ever be able to be free from her bulimia demon? Will God make life beautiful for her again? Those are questions I believe she wants the answers to as well. Fortunately, we do know something for sure. I will always be able to flush away her fears and she knows she can find companionship wherever I am placed. Prayer can help, and God can listen, but my holy water works wonders.

Write it down. Take a picture. I don't give a f*ck!

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