Love, Kira

“Life is a jigsaw puzzle, and I’m just one broken little piece, torn and forgotten in the box.”1

Anya Rivers had her legs crossed and was tapping her left foot furiously. Her hair was swept up in a black bun, her narrowed brown eyes darting back and forth. But the most painful part of it all was her body. Frail and sickeningly thin, it was no wonder her mother had noticed her change in weight – or Kira’s.2

“You aren’t forgotten,” Kira soothed, putting her hand on Anya’s leg, though only half-heartedly.3

She knew Anya would push her hand away, and she did.4

“I wasn’t talking to you,” Anya said roughly. “I was talking to Rachel.” Then, as if she had applied glue to her lips, they shut tightly and did not open again.5

Kira knew Anya had a right to be angry. After all, wasn’t she the one who introduced her to the website? If only she had been smarter then, maybe this whole thing wouldn’t be happening. “But I’m making it right again,” she mumbled under her breath. Rachel looked at her curiously but said nothing. Anya glared and shuffled her chair an inch farther.6

“God, it’s not my fault you’re so sick, Anya!” Kira shouted. She put stress on the word “sick”, saying it like one might say “gross”. And in a way the gross was the best way to describe it.7

“Yes, it is.” While her lips did not move, they didn’t have to; Anya’s eyes said it all for her.8

“That’s enough, Kira,” said Rachel, her voice full of that gentle firmness that only counselors can pull off. “You’re in this together, so it’s best if you start acting like a pair instead of two individuals dealing with this alone.”9

I am an individual. I am alone, Kira thought miserably. Still, it wasn’t like other people hadn’t helped her get through this – Anya’s mother had put in the money to hire Rachel as a private counselor, and her own parents had not complained once when she told them she needed a journal. Just a few months ago, when Kira had requested a new backpack to replace her torn one, they had gone ballistic about “wasting money” before complying. 10

It was as if Rachel had read her mind. “Ladies, get out your journals, please,” she said, her voice as irritatingly calm as ever.11

Kira’s notebook was pink with two ballet shoes in the corner. In the first page her name had been written in big, loopy letters in basic black ink. She already had the first ten pages done. She was very conscious of Anya’s notebook beside her, with only three pages filled out.12

“Today,” Rachel continued, oblivious to Kira’s observation, “I would like you to write down why you think you’re here. Why your parents sent you here.”13

“That’s easy,” Anya said, speaking for the first time since their “feeling discussion” a few minutes earlier. “It’s because >i>Kira>/i> told my parents about everything. ‘Cause she’s a snitch.”14

“No I’m not, I’m being your friend!” Kira’s voice came out louder than she’d meant it to, but she didn’t care. “I’m trying to make you better.”15

Anya just smirked and rolled her eyes. “I’m not the one that needs help, Kira,” she said quietly.16

Then why are you here? Kira’s mental voice may have showed in her expression, because Anya’s eyes widened and she looked away.17

There was a moment of painful silence. Then: “Perhaps this should be a talking session only. Books and pens away, then.” Rachel smiled her red-lipsticked smile. “Gooooooooood,” she said, and coming from her it sounded like she was stuck on the “o”, never reaching the “d” and completing the word. “In that case, I suggest Kira should go first. Kira? Why do you think you’re here today?”18

“Dance,” was the first thing out of Kira’s mouth. Both Rachel and Anya looked at her strangely. So Kira elaborated.19

“I dance for eight hours every week with a personal trainer, I go to competitions monthly, and everywhere I go it’s always the same thing: ‘light on your toes, Kira Miller!’ And I was so damn sick of it, because I wasn’t doing it right, and everyone kept commenting on how my belly kept poking out of my bodysuit, I didn’t even think I was fat. So this girl, Jenny is her name, she came up to me and was like, ‘Why don’t you go to a pro-ana site?’ And I was like, ‘Uhm, what?’ So she showed me this website, it’s called Living Thin, and there was a special section for athletes like me.20

“I thought at first that it would be fun, getting skinnier without anyone noticing, and that I would be pretty and look glamorous and maybe even become a part-time model or actress or something. But nothing happened like that, and I didn’t look pretty being this thin, and I was crying so often – you have no idea how hard it was, doing it alone. So I showed the site to Anya, ‘cause I thought it would be fun, having someone to do it with.21

“And it wasn’t fun,” she sniffled. “We got thinner and thinner but I was never proud of my weight. And neither was Anya. And I got made fun of all the time because of my weight – I used to think it was because people thought I was fat, but then I realized it was because I was >i>skinny>/i>. And then someone hacked into Living Thin and gave an “anti anorexia” speech and showed me scary pictures about anorexic girls. And then Anya kept posting messages like, ‘Where should I hide my dinner tonight?’ and it scared me.” Anya looked over, seeming startled.22

“So yeah, I told our parents,” Kira snapped, getting her nerve back. “At least I’m a good enough friend to try and repair the damage I made.”23

“Nothing to repair,” Anya quipped, but she was silenced by a wave from Rachel’s hand as she gently said, “Thank you for sharing. I appreciate your point of view.” She paused. “You did the right thing by coming to your parents.”24

“Told you,” Kira whispered to Anya, who glowered. Rachel cut her off by saying, “I’m going to make a call to each of your parents. I will be asking them to disable your internet or at least supervise it until your sessions are over.”25

“What?!” The tone of horror Anya used confirmed Kira’s suspicion that Living Thin was still on her bookmarks list. “You can’t do that!”26

“Do you feel that’s unfair?” Rachel said, leaning forward slightly in her chair. Anya didn’t bother respond; they both knew what the answer would be.27

“All right,” the counselor said, checking her watch and sighing with satisfaction. “Good session, ladies, by our time is out. See you both tomorrow.”28

Kira smiled. “Thanks, Rachel,” she said as she got up. Anya said nothing at all, just left the room silent as a ghost.29

They had to wait for their parents to pick them up. Side-by-side. “I hate you,” Anya whispered quietly, probably to break the silence more than anything.30

Kira sighed. “I know.” The silence returned.31

“I’ll never forgive you for what you did to me,” Anya continued.32

“Do you mean the part where I made you anorexic, or the part where I tried to get you better?” Kira snipped. And then, mainly to distract herself from the guilt inside her stomach, she opened up her journal, tore some paper out and began to write. Anya looked at her curiously but said nothing.33

Kira’s parents pulled up first. As she was about to leave, the girl paused, turned around, and handed Anya the torn paper bit. She had no idea what her reaction would be, but Kira wouldn’t be around to see it.34

The paper said the following:35

Dear Anya:36

Three things.37

First, you’ll still be my best friend, no matter how long you hate me for. Second, I miss the old us, before Living Thin ruined us.38

Third, life is a jigsaw puzzle, and even though you’re just one little piece, you’ve never been forgotten in the box.39

Love, Kira. 40