DRAGONFLY

PART I

Spencer Hastings is fighting the battle of her life.

Trigger Warning: This premise of this story involves Spencer having an eating disorder. Please read no further if this is a sensitive topic for you.

MAY 15, 2014 (PRESENT DAY)

Spencer never meant for things to get so out of control. It all started because of one (what Spencer thought was insignificant) argument with her father just over seven months ago. As hazy as the brunette's mind was these days, Spencer could rehash the scenario verbatim. Her eyelids fluttered closed as she thought back to that morning.

OCTOBER 6, 2013

"How many times have I told you to mind your own damn business, Spencer!" Peter Hastings shouted, slamming his rolled-up newspaper on the marble countertop.

Spencer rolled her eyes as she reached for her mug of coffee. On second thought, she also grabbed a stray protein bar that lay near the toaster. "You'd like that, wouldn't you, Dad?" she spat, accusation lacing each word. It was true that Spencer and her father had been arguing more and more, over what seemed to be unimportant issues. Seeing as how she was truly her father's daughter, though, Spencer didn't understand why he would be surprised that she would be relentless in trying to figure out what hand he had in the cover-up of Mrs. Cavanaugh's death. Moreover, Spencer didn't understand how her father could justify it.

"As a matter of fact, I would," Peter hissed through gritted teeth, pacing. "Any daughter of mine would know better than to go hacking into my work files! It's a gross invasion of not only my privacy, but my clients' privacy!" He pounded his fist on the countertop for emphasis.

"Privacy?" Spencer snorted, bemused. Peeling apart the thin wrapper of the protein bar, she continued, "You know what happens when you get privacy?" She stared her father dead in the eye. Calculated coolness punctuated her next statement. "You wind up having illegitimate children with the neighbor."

Embarrassed and indignant, Peter's face grew an angry red. "That's ENOUGH, Spencer!" he roared, ripping the protein bar violently from Spencer's hand and smashing it to the floor in fury. He leaned in, close to his daughter's face, and his voice dropped to a menacing low. "Your behavior disgusts me. I want you to stop sticking your big fat nose where it doesn't belong, do you understand me? I will not let you ruin this family."

Spencer jumped in shock, taking an involuntary step back. She hadn't expected that severe of a reaction. Sure, her father had a temper when pushed, but he'd never, not once, physically hurt or destroyed anything in anger. Eyes dropping to her stinging hand, Spencer gasped. A long scratch along ran along her right hand's back. Small droplets of blood raised to the surface, clotting. Her father's words, twisted, hung in the air like a suffocating fog; all of a sudden, Spencer couldn't breathe. Wordlessly, she ran to the door, her backpack left forgotten near the remnants of her uneaten breakfast. One long, final look at her father, whose head was hung in shame (or was it disappointment?) left Spencer eerily disturbed. It wasn't until she reached the end of her driveway that she fell apart, shaken. Hand clapping to her mouth to hide silent sobs, Spencer felt so confused. All she had wanted to do was to help Toby; she never meant to break her father's trust in her, to lose his respect. How little he thought of her. And does he really think I'm fat? Spencer couldn't help but wonder that if she had been as pretty - as perfect - as Melissa, that none of this ever would have happened. In that moment, Spencer truly hated herself.

PRESENT DAY

Spencer distinctly remembered the ill feeling in her stomach at the sight of her lunch that day as her father's words echoed in her head. She'd silently slipped her peanut butter and jelly sandwich back into her lunchbox and gnawed her apple slowly. "I'm not that hungry," had been Spencer's excuse. Unbeknownst to her at the time, it would be the same excuse she would give for the next seven months. Now, lying in her sterile white bed on the fourth floor of Rosewood Memorial, Spencer had all the time in the world to come up with better ones. Each second that ticked away on the clock, she felt the walls closing more and more in on her. Soon, the brunette would be fighting for her freedom. For now, though, she let herself sink into deep thought.

FEBRUARY 14, 2014

Fresh out of the shower, Spencer stood on the scale, towel wrapped firmly around her narrow middle. 111.2, the number on the scale read. Frowning, Spencer tore off the towel, discarding it onto the floor. The numbers adjusted up and down until finally settling. 109.0. "You've got to be kidding me," Spencer muttered. That meant she'd only lost eleven pounds since October. She jumped off of the scale, and, kicking it to the side, reached for her brush.

"Failure!" the voice in Spencer's head screamed as she yanked the brush roughly through wet curls.

It persisted, even as the brunette slid on her favorite pair of skinny jeans, jeans which were now quite obviously loose. "No one could love someone as fat and disgusting as you! Melissa would never let herself get this big."

Staring at the visage in the mirror - her worst enemy - Spencer made a promise. There would be no Valentine's dinner with Toby tonight, she decided. Her next words were barely audible. "You don't deserve it."

PRESENT DAY

Spencer could still hear the hurt and confusion in Toby's voice when she'd called to tell him she had to cancel their Valentine's plans. For a long time after the incident, she recalled, he wouldn't give up on her, even when Spencer had been giving up on herself. The past month or so, though, the barriers Spencer had built had grown so strong that even Toby couldn't break them down. God, did Spencer miss him. His smile, his smell, his voice. Toby hadn't come to visit her yet, though he must have surely been informed of her whereabouts by now. "Oh, Spencer, you know what they say about hope," that evil, critical voice tutted. She knew. For better or worse, she knew.

MAY 10, 2014

"Earth to Spencer!" the diminutive Aria Montgomery hollered, waving a manicured hand in Spencer's face.

Brown eyes widened, disoriented, as Spencer was jostled from her thoughts. "Huh? What'd I miss?"

Aria sighed with mock hurt. "Only half of our conversation!"

"Oh," Spencer smiled weakly. "I'm sorry Aria. I've just been really out of it lately."

Her tiny friend surveyed Spencer with concern and what appeared to be pity. "Me too. This stupid English test had me pulling all-nighters this week." Spencer knew that Aria was lying, and was grateful for that.

"You find The Great Gatsby stupid, Miss Montgomery?" Ezra Fitz interrupted, chastising Aria with the slightest trace of amusement. Spencer watched their interaction, and would have felt bad for her friend had she not been certain that Ezra was feeding her test answers over dessert in his love-nest. Ezra – Mr. Fitz! Spencer scolded herself – walked over to Spencer and handed her a stack of test booklets. "Take one and pass them on, please," he instructed. Spencer didn't miss the way his eyes lingered on her hand as the booklets exchanged possession. Since losing twenty pounds, her fingers had taken on a pinkish-purplish hue, almost as if she'd been standing in the cold for too long. She was aware of this, and even a bit proud; this was a sign that her weight was moving in the right direction. That didn't mean she wanted the whole world to know her secret, though. Hand recoiling, Spencer gave her teacher a tight-lipped smile. "Thanks," she muttered, passing the booklets to the pockmark-faced boy behind her.

Opening her test booklet, Spencer quickly scanned the first question. "What did the green light across the water mean to Gatsby and why?" Easy enough, Spencer thought. She whipped out a pencil and set to task. Mid-way through the exam, Spencer's stomach growled loudly. Clapping a hand to her belly, she quickly glanced around to see if anyone else had noticed. Her eyes were met by Ezra's. Dropping her gaze back to the exam, Spencer hurried through the final couple of questions and excused herself to the bathroom.

"Ten minutes left, class," Ezra announced behind her.

Standing in front of the mirror, Spencer examined her reflection. Anyone who looked at Spencer would see a gaunt and sallow face, framed by dull, limp hair. They'd gasp at the sharp protrusion of her collarbones and scrawny arms spotted with small bruises of unknown origin. They'd frown at the bagginess of Spencer's pants that hung loosely below her hipbones despite being belted to the innermost hole. Turning to the side, Spencer ran a hand over her flat belly and, pinching the skin, frowned. Though she'd been obsessively performing sit-ups every night, there was still the slightest bulge of tummy.

She wanted to cry.

Spencer got back to Ezra's classroom just before the bell rang. Gathering her things, she turned to follow Aria out the door to lunch. "Spencer!" Ezra called out. "I need to talk to you for a minute!" A pit formed in the brunette's stomach. Aria gave her a reassuring squeeze before shutting the door on her way out.

"What's up Ez – Mr. Fitz?" she asked, feigning nonchalance.

Ezra smiled, that same look of concern and pity as Aria had worn earlier playing on his face. "Look, Spencer… people have noticed… I have noticed that you haven't been yourself lately."

Spencer laughed nervously. "What? I'm fine, Mr. Fitz. Promise."

Ezra shook his head, smile vanishing. "Things are more obvious than I imagine you'd like them to be. Though I'd rather you be honest with yourself about what's going on, I'm your teacher. I have a legal – and personal – obligation to ensure your well-being."

Brows furrowed. "Meaning…?"

"Meaning that if I suspect you are doing – or not doing – something that's causing you harm, I have a duty to make your parents aware of said suspicion," Ezra replied with a regretful sigh. "I just want to give you an opportunity to, ah, to talk about things first."

Her heart hammered in her chest, panicked, but Spencer's expression remained stoic. "I wish I knew what you were talking about, Mr. Fitz," she replied coolly. "Can I please go to lunch now?"

Defeated, Ezra nodded. "Yeah. Yeah you can. Just think about about I said, okay?"

"I will." The lie spilled out easily. Par for the course.

PRESENT DAY

As it turned out, Ezra never needed to spill Spencer's secret. That afternoon at field hockey practice, the world went black. Screams for help had been audible over nervous chatter, and it took the ambulance less than five minutes to get to Rosewood High and carry Spencer's limp body away. She didn't remember passing out or even getting to the hospital. Spencer thought back to that evening and shuddered as she recalled what happened next.

AN (If you got this far): Thank you, truly, for reading. This subject is near and dear to my heart, as I and many close to my heart have suffered from some form of an eating disorder or disordered eating. And, although I consider myself recovered, I still clearly think about it a lot. Reviews are appreciated.