Avalanche is Sullen and too Thin

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Literary Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
A day in the life of demon infested, drug addicted Avalanche. Perhaps it will be her last day.

Submitted: May 30, 2008

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Submitted: May 30, 2008

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“Avalanche you are sullen and too thin.”

The words echoed in her head for the duration of the car ride. Avalanche was the seventeen year old daughter of two supermodels and she was in therapy. What did she need a shrink for, her eating disorder, her cocaine addiction, her alcoholism, or her anger? If you asked her it would have been none of them; it was her parents who should have been in therapy or better yet prison. They were the ones that had ruined a child forever, wasn’t that considered some form of child abuse. It was because of their refusal to leave her at home when she was a child that introduced her to the dangers of drugs and alcohol. It was also their refusal to accept that she was going to be a few pounds heavier that drove her to purge herself after every meal. While she blamed her parents for the most part, Avalanche could not help but blame herself as well. She knew that all of these demons were not healthy and would lead to her end, but she did them anyways. She was a thrill seeker who wanted to live fast and die while she was on top.

Today’s therapy session had been the worst one that she had had with this therapist. Avalanche had forced this one to give up after only the third session. She had a knack for that, because those that were paid to make her realize that she was sick did not know what to do once she gave them all of the right answers. This last one had been the most fun for her, until the old woman had left Avalanche with those parting words.

“Avalanche, you are sullen and too thin.” Those had been the last words that the old woman had said to the anorexic girl before the door shut. For some reason the rung in Avalanche’s head, confusing her. Yes, she had had therapists tell her that she was anorexic but that was a technical term that meant nothing to her. Never before had anyone said that she was “too thin.” When she was younger her parents would intentionally buy clothes that would be too small for their slightly chubby daughter. The young girl would feel embarrassed and do whatever diet her parents suggested that she do so that she could fit into her clothes. It was maniacal, but her parents were vain people. They could not be raising a fat child; it would not fit their image. It was not until she was a bit older, fifteen that she discovered the real secrets to losing weight and keeping it off. Cocaine and purging were two things that she could do to stay as thin as her mother and father wanted her to be. It was odd, Avalanche had hated them even back then, but she was continually doing things to please them, even to this day.

Saying no to her parents was not an option. For some reason, unknown to her, she always agreed to whatever scheme or plans that they had. That was her other addiction, her parents. She knew that they were bad for her and that she should do all that she could to get away from them, but she could not. That was the addiction that all of the therapists seemed to miss, if they could get Avalanche away from that addiction, those demons she could begin to get her life together. They had the same addiction though, they always agreed to whatever Avalanche wanted. When she was little she used this to her advantage and so had they. That gave them the opportunity to buy her all of those clothes that made her think that she was too large.

Her booted foot tapped on the leather seat of the limo and she looked at the large empty compartment that she was riding in. The only people that Avalanche knew that were her age were just like her, full of addictions and demons though they did not understand that. It was odd to her that most people did not understand that drugs and alcohol were addictions and bulimia was a disease.

“Avalanche, you are sullen and too thin.”

“Shut up and get out of my head,” she screamed in the back of the limo. She did not worry about the driver hearing her, the passenger compartment was soundproof. That therapist was messing with her head, though that was what she was supposed to do. Avalanche needed something to clear her mind, something to let her relax. She crawled across the seat to a small cabinet on the left side of the limo. It opened with a soft click, but it was not the bottles of wine that were in the cabinet that Avalanche was after. Her poison was tucked underneath a broken piece of the cabinet. She retrieved a small baggie full of her favorite drug.

“There you are,” she cooed to the bag of highly addictive powder. “At least mum didn’t find you.” She spoke and whispered to the bad as if it were a baby and she were trying to comfort it. The limo was not stable enough for her to snort a line without spilling it or stabbing her sinuses with rolled money that she would use. So rather than risk all of that trouble, she gathered a bit of it on a finger tip and raise it to her nose. A thrill shot throw her body as she put the powdery substance closer to her nose and sniffed it up. The relief was instant and welcome. Avalanche tucked the bag away in her pants pocket and leaned back in the seat. Her head swam for a moment, but then it all stopped. She had that incredible feeling of floating on air; there was not pain, no sensation, only the wonderful numbness that she had craved.

“Good shit,” she muttered patting the pocket with her stash of blow. The rest of her ride passed in this blissful state.

Before she knew it the ride was over and she began to come down from her high. Avalanche searched around for her dark shades and popped them on. No doubt the Pavarotti would be out in full force, wanting to know how her therapy session went. She would tell them the same thing that she always told them, nothing incriminating but nothing promising either. The door to the limo opened and instantly a thousand flashbulbs went off in her face. Yes there was a reason that sunglasses where necessary when dealing with any part of the media. She was assaulted with questions and photographers trying to break through the wall of body guards that would escort her past the gates and up to the house.

“Are you still addicted to crack?!”

“Avalanche we heard that you were pregnant is this true?!”

“Avalanche what is the scoop on you and that convicted drug dealer?!”

“What new medications did they put you Avalanche?!”

“Didn’t you get addicted to the last prescription they gave you?!”

“Is that really you in that sex tape?!”

They were being nice today, no one had really asked about how her therapy session when. That was always a bonus when the Pavarotti ignored the major issues at hand. Though the only reason that she had been put in therapy was because she had been busted when that convicted drug dealer had, that was not a good day in the media. Rather than go to prison with him, she was required to go to therapy and stay there until the court was convinced that she had been cured. That was when all of the therapists came in. Once she was safely past all of the cameras and gossip columnist she turned to them and smiled.

“You don’t fucking know me,” she shouted back at them and gave them the finger. That was her traditional goodbye to the reporters. The body guards lifter her up and carried her inside. She could feel their hands on her body, that meant that her wondrous high was over and she would have to do more next time. The guards carried her all the way to the house and did not set her down until they were safely inside.

“Your mother and father are in the dinning area waiting for you,” said a nameless guard. Avalanche nodded and trotted off towards the dining room. She was not hungry and she would not force herself to eat the tiny portions of food on the plate that would be set before her. The house was large and that meant so was the dining room. Normally, on the rare occasion that the three did eat together it was never in the dining room. Avalanche was wondering what was up that her parents would want to eat in there all of the sudden. Her mother was sitting at one end of the table and her father the other. They were thin, something that Avalanche thought that she would never be. She did not go as far as to think them beautiful because she could see what years of living the “life” did to them. Without her make-up on her mother’s eyes were sunken and darkened from years of drug and alcohol. Her father had the same problem. Their true complexion had been ruined by years of wearing make-up and never taking it off. Their demons made them as ugly as she was.

“Why are we eating in here?” she demanded not bothering to look at either of them. She had asked the question because it was still odd to her that they would be using this huge dining room.

“How was therapy?” asked her father ignoring his daughter’s question.

“Avalanche, you are sullen and too thin.” The words echoed in her mind again. What was wrong with her and why had this counselor been able to do what all the other could not? Never before had she remember the therapist’s words after she walked out of their door.

“Wow, great answer,” she snorted pushing the words out of her mind again. “Same as always.” Her answers were going to be short until she got the information that she wanted.

“Are you going out with us tonight,” her mother asked next. This agitated Avalanche more; her question had been ignored a second time.

“Have you two lost your fucking hearing,” she laughed. In the end, she gave up on her question because she was never going to get an answer. The sooner she answer theirs, the sooner she could get to her room. “I guess, nothing to do around this place,” she said turning to leave the room.

“Aren’t you going to eat with us,” her mother implored, though she already knew the answer.

“I’ve answered two of your question and you have answered zero of mine. What’s with the “good parent” role that you two are trying to take on?” her voice had a strain of anger in it. Her anger was leaking out. “Let’s face it, neither of you are ever going to be soccer moms nor presidents of the PTA so leave me alone. I’m pretty much fucking grown and there is no use for you to start giving a damn now. I’ll see you at the party.” Avalanche stormed from the dining room, up the stairs, and to the safety of her own room. Once there she kicked off her boots and flopped down on her bed.

For the first time in her life Avalanche looked around her room. She took in the cracked mirror, the dirty carpet with its blood stain that was now covered by an area rug. Her eyes scanned the walls with their dents and dings from her tantrums or drunken rages and never before had she realize that her room was rather small. Her room and closet were two of the smaller rooms in the entire house. Oh the closet filled with it’s torn up designer clothes. Not a single item in her closet had come torn from the store, but they all bore holes and stains from her various misadventures.

“Avalanche, you are sullen and too thin.”

“Seriously, get the hell out of my head,” she screamed. Then she remember the coke in her pocket. It was only when she was high that she could forget the words of the therapist. She still wanted to know why those words bothered her so much, but if that meant another trip to the woman that never wanted to see her again Avalanche could live in ignorance. Finding out the truth behind it was probably not a good idea for her either. Out came the coke, in two neat lines on her desk. From her other pocket Avalanche pulled out a bill of some amount. A pleased smile passed over her lips as she lowered herself to those two white lines.

“I suppose that it is time that I got myself ready to go out,” she muttered. The two lines were up her nose with a speed only learned from practice. She wiped the residue from under her nose and went to her closet. There was bottle of the strongest liquor that she dared to drink. She had to get ready for the party and going to a party sober was not an option in the world that she lived in. Most of the guests would spend the first hour of the party talking to each other and eating so that they could sober themselves up. As soon as the media left though, the party began in full. In a clear bottle was a liquor that was a lovely shade of green. Absinthe, the green fairy, whatever it was called, it was delicious to Avalanche. She opened the bottle and took a nice swig, the burn that the alcohol normally had was neutralized by the numbness of the cocaine. Not much would be needed if she were going to do the other few lines of coke that she had planned on. The lid went back on the bottle and it all went back in her closet. As she was bending over she saw something drip to the floor. Avalanche raised her hand to her mouth and then her nose. When her hand came away with blood from her nose, she swore.

“Fuck not again,” she exclaimed grabbing something from the closest to stop the blood flow. “I hate when this happens,” she grumbled getting up and walking to the mirror. While she held the shirt to her nose she looked that the rest of her appearance.

“Avalanche, you are sullen and too thin.” The voice chimed in her head again. She had to get rid of that voice or else she was going to really lose her mind tonight. She pinched at her love handles and shook her head. She was still too fat in her opinion. She went back to her closet and retrieved the bottle of absinthe yet again. This time she brought it to her desk. Two more lines each followed by a healthy swig from the bottle. When she stood up she swayed a little on her feet. Avalanche touched her face and smiled. This was the feeling that she was looking for. She staggered back to her closet, stripping off her clothes on the way there. She looked for something to wear, but nothing was exactly in focus for her. She grabbed an almost shredded form fitting long sleeve shirt and a torn one to go over it. Not finding the jeans that she was looking for Avalanche returned to her bed. After laying down, she spotted the pants that she wanted. They were on the floor. A shame that Avalanche could not remember that they were the pants that she had had on minutes earlier. She rolled off of her bed and snagged the pants.

“Avalanche, you are sullen and too thin.” This time the voice seemed like it came from somewhere in her room. Avalanche looked around the room full of rage. That damned woman and somehow snuck in here or someone was playing a joke on her, either way it was not funny.

“Avalanche, you are sullen and too thin.”

“Bitch you don’t know shit,” she shouted at the top of her lungs. “Now get the fuck out,” she screamed prowling around. She ended up back in front of the broken mirror. This time when she looked in it, the chubby girl that she used to be stared back at her.

“Avalanche you are sullen and too thin,” the younger Avalanche said. “Sullen and far too thin.”

“You don’t even exist you little fatass child. Get out of my fucking room!” Avalanche was furious when she turned from the mirror.She stumbled back to her desk and grabbed the bottle of absinthe. The small girl was also in the reflection caused by the bottle.

“Too thin,” the reflection whispered. “Too thin Avalanche.”

“What would you know about thin?!” she growled taking another long drink. The bottle came down with a crash.

“Ava! Your father and I are heading out, we’ll send the limo back for you when the press leave,” shouted her mother. That was how the family did things. Too keep the rebellious and problematic Avalanche out of the papers at these parties they waited until the cameras were shut off to bring their daughter in.

“Don’t give a damn mother,” she shouted, knowing that her mother had probably not heard her. Avalanche was wrestling with her own demons tonight. She put the bottle to her lips and took another drink and then looked at the pristine powder on her desk. She picked up the rolled money and lowered her nose to the bag. After a big snort, Avalanche was content that the demons awakened by her therapist were laid back down to rest. All that was left was for her to wait for the limo to come back in a few hours for her.

Avalanche stumbled her way out of her room and down the stairs. She went to the dining room where her parents had been. It was now empty except for the bottle of wine that housekeeping had not picked up yet. Avalanche went to sit down at the table with that bottle and wait. As soon as she sat down she felt rather tired. She took a sip of wine and leaned her head back in the chair. Perhaps a nap would do her good was her thought before the bottle fell from her hand and the world faded to black.


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