Protect Me From Myself

Book 2 - Hero - Chapter 1

Welcome to book 2! This is Jenna's story, and will contain a lot of heartache and trauma. Also, talk of eating disorders. So, please be warned. Thank you for reading.

Jenna

I am well aware at this point in my life that I am all sorts of f****d-up. I have more issues than Vogue. Quite literally.

Where do these issues come from?

I haven’t the slightest clue.

It’s not like I don’t have a good job; I’m on Broadway in a major musical, for Christ’s sake. I may not have the lead role, but I’m right up there as second.

Each night, I sing and act my heart out with the best of them, all in hopes of one day being recognized for my talent and given a lead role.

I come from a good family. I attended the best schools known to man, schools for gifted children. I was academically two years ahead of my friends, along with my very best friend, Raine. Both of us are super smart. I excelled in everything I did. In school. Out of school. I was every parent’s dream child. So much potential it seeped from me in bucket loads. Not to say I was up myself because I wasn’t. I was just the girl everyone believed in, and I loved to please my parents.

With talent comes pressure, though. My parents never meant to pile pressure on me, but it seemed each time I did something well, they wanted more next time. It never occurred to me to mind as a child. Not until I was in college, at least.

I wanted to be my own person; I didn’t want to live off Mommy and Daddy. I wanted to be like Raine; she never did what was expected of her; she always lived the way she wanted to.

I also wanted to be a Star. My parents have always told me that that’s exactly what I was: a Star. It starts to stick in your mind after a while. I’ve never been big-headed in thinking I’m something spectacular. I’m just me. I strive to be the best, just as everyone I know does.

I landed my first leading role in my High School’s production of Greece. It was nothing major, but it gave me a taste for stardom and all that it could bring. I loved hearing the audience’s applause, and knowing my family was right there supporting me had me walking on cloud nine.

It didn’t take me long to work my up to Broadway. It sucked that I knew my mother had a lot to do with it. She has a lot of influence on many people, and where I’m concerned, my mother’s influence holds no bounds.

It makes a girl wonder if she’s really getting places because of her talent or because her mother made a considerable donation to the production director. She has a way with words, does my mother, and her checkbook speaks volumes.

I sometimes sit back and wonder how my life slipped by me so quickly. I also wonder how I let myself sink into the horridness of an eating disorder. I never intended to give myself bulimia, but that’s precisely what I did without even realizing it.

Actually, I didn’t give myself the disorder. You could say I inherited it. I was dealing with it, recovering from it, until I landed the part in this play. I suddenly felt fat next to my co-actors. They all seemed slimmer, prettier.

In reality, they’re no different from me. I’m naturally slim. I have legs that go on and on, and I have a flat, tight stomach. A nice ass and boobs that my best friend says look fake, but once you feel them, there’s no mistaking they’re real.

My long, pale brown, almost blonde hair with subtle waves makes me look like a Film Star walking the red carpet. Or so I’ve been told once or twice.

If only those people could see me on my days off when I wear nothing but sweats and don’t bother with my hair or makeup.

My mother always told me that sometimes a girl needs to let it out, gorge, and purge the food, and then she can feel better. By this, she meant throwing up religiously. My mother, too, has an eating disorder. One she passed on to me without even meaning to. Or maybe she did. I just don't know anymore.

I guess I would be a liar if I said she didn’t have a hand in screwing me up. Mom made me believe that being slim and pretty was the only way I would ever be loved.

My mother has done some unspeakable things to me regarding my mental and physical state. Everything she ever did, she believed, was what was best for me. For many years, I believed her to be correct.

After all, mother always knows best, right?

I have always kept myself busy in order to forget some of the bad times in my life, times I have had to keep to myself because my mother made me do so. She would never have been able to face my father had he found out. There are also things he does know, but he took my mother’s side over mine. Then there is one huge thing I just cannot forgive her for. One thing only Raine knows about.

Raine is very opinionated and has told me to stand up to my mother and take back what is mine on many occasions. But I can’t go against Mom because I fear that I’ll lose her. She may have hurt me in ways no mother should hurt her child, but regardless of it all, I love her; she’s my mother.

I sometimes wish for a life that isn’t so busy and dominated by painting on the fake smile, the smile that tells everybody that everything in the world of Jenna Christensen is just perfect. When, in truth, my life is anything but.

Don’t get me wrong, in between productions, I am an ordinary girl living life to the fullest. Or at least, I try to. I love my friends and family; I would do anything for them. But just lately, I feel like something is missing. Something I can’t quite put my finger on.

Okay, that’s a lie; I know full well what is missing, but I’m not allowed to think about it.

How do you stop yourself from thinking about the one thing you can’t forget?

Raine is going through something really tough right now. I want to be there for her, but she won’t let me in. It’s just not like her; we used to tell each other everything. I want to be there for her the way she’s always been there for me. I wish she understood that she could still be independent while leaning on me. I feel redundant as a friend.

My other best friend, Sarah, who lived with me, moved out a couple of months ago. I’m still yet to interview anybody to take over her room. I guess I kind of hoped things wouldn’t work out with her and Benton. I honestly thought Sarah would return to the apartment we once shared within a week.

But I should have known that would never happen when she’s butt crazy in love with Benton, engaged to him, and carrying his baby. Everything seemed to fall into place for Sarah after the hell she went through, and I am happy for her.

How could I not be?

I envy the life Sarah has now. She’s never given up work, even though Benton wanted nothing more than to take care of her. He’s successful at what he does, owns many businesses, and comes from one of the wealthiest families in the country, and he’s capable of giving her the world. But Sarah has never been one to let anybody pay her way. She’s strong, and I love her for it. She’s a lot like Raine in that respect.

God, I miss Raine right now. She’s the only one who knows my big secret, the only one who knows everything about me. She has been my friend my whole life; she’s my inspiration and my rock. She gives me the courage not to live in the past but to move forward no matter how hard I might think it is to do so.

Without her, I seem to wallow on things I can’t change. Raine may only be outside with the rest of my friends, but it’s not the same as having her alone so we can talk.

Talking of strong, Sarah’s brother is just heavenly. He is literally every girl’s wet dream. He’s an Adonis. My Adonis.

I wish, at least.

Brandon is beauty in its most pure form. Tall, dark-haired, and muscle-clad in a way that screams God of Zeus-like proportions! A Marine of territorial proportions. A friend. The man I have done nothing but pine after since I met him a year ago.

Brandon had been visiting Sarah in the early days of her relationship with Benton. He and I hit it off immediately. We became steadfast friends very quickly. When Brandon left to rejoin his troops in Iraq, he made me promise to write to him and to video call with him whenever he could do so.

I love talking to him. He is the most interesting man I have ever met. I love hearing about his tales as a Marine. The things Brandon gets up to, the lives he protects and saves. I love seeing him in his uniform.

Christ, is there anything hotter than a Marine in his uniform?

I don’t think so!

I swore to myself three years ago that I would never fall for a man again.

What’s the point when all men do is lie to you?

The only memories I have of my one relationship are heartache. I never want to feel that kind of pain again. But it’s hard not to fall for a man you have such a connection to. It’s harder to see him only once or twice a month on a computer screen, a man you send a letter to once a week.

But fall for him I have, hard, and against my will. I’ve never let on to Brandon that I've fallen for him.

How could I when nothing could ever come of my feelings for him?

I fake dates with men because Brandon asks me if I’ve had any and if the guy was nice to me. I don’t want to lie, and that’s not technically what I do because I have had dates.

But how can I tell him I’ve had any other kind of relations with those men when I just can’t bring myself to?

Brandon laughs a lot at the fact I refer to myself as a nun. I could be one. It’s been almost three years without se.x of any kind with another person.

How did I go from a s*x-crazed nymph to a woman who can’t bear to let a man touch her?

I can’t bear to because they’re not Brandon. It’s all well and good thinking about Brandon nonstop, mas.turbating to thoughts of him and what I want him to do to my body. But it won’t change the fact he’s with someone else. Has been for two years.

God, I’m pathetic!