There are people out there bad people

I sat on my mother's lap, which in any other world would be deeply embarrassing, but in this one, it felt like a prison I couldn't escape. Her arms were like iron bands around me, holding me close as if I might vanish at any moment.

The dining room stretched around us in all its ridiculous splendor, full of tapestries, golden accents, and more food than any single person or family for that matter could possibly need.

I glanced at the table in front of me, eyes widening in disbelief at the sheer volume of it all.

Mountains of bread, cheeses, fruits, and pastries. Roasted meats, bowls of soup, sauces, and condiments I couldn't even begin to name.

It was enough to feed an army or at least a small village. But here it was, spread out on this ridiculously long table, and every bit of it was supposed to be for me.

"Eat, darling!" my mother cooed from behind me, her soft voice tinged with an overbearing warmth.

She reached forward with a spoonful of something that looked entirely too creamy for my liking, aiming it straight at my face. "You've hardly touched your food."

I tilted my head back, trying to avoid the spoon like a prisoner avoiding a prison guard's orders. "I'm good," I said, offering a strained smile. "Really, I'm stuffed."

Stuffed wasn't the right word. I hadn't even eaten, not really. But I had done some exercise earlier what little my body would allow me and I wasn't about to undo that by gorging myself on half a banquet's worth of calories.

My father sat across the table, his sharp blue eyes watching the whole spectacle with concern. "She's hardly eaten," he muttered to my mother, his voice laced with sadness. "Look at her. She's wasting away."

Wasting away?! I stared at him, utterly dumbfounded. Couldn't they see? Couldn't they see the rolls of fat that spilled over my sides, the way my arms and legs jiggled with every movement?

I wasn't wasting away; I was carrying enough weight for two people! The irony of the situation almost made me laugh almost.

"Father, I'm not wasting away," I said as politely as I could, although my patience was wearing thin. "I'm, um... quite healthy."

"Healthy? Look at you, you're barely touching your food," my mother said, her arms tightening around me slightly.

She looked genuinely distraught, as if my refusal to eat was somehow a direct insult to her maternal skills.

Another spoonful of something green was that mashed peas? was now inches from my mouth. I turned my head to the side, avoiding it like a pro.

"Mother, I've done some exercise today, and I don't want to ruin it with overeating," I explained, trying to wriggle free from her grip, but she held me fast. "I don't need all this food."

Her face fell into an expression of such exaggerated sadness that I almost felt bad. Almost. "But you love eating, darling. You always have. Why, just the other day, you cleared two plates of pastries by yourself!"

That must've been the old me the version of this girl who was perfectly content being stuffed like a Thanksgiving turkey.

But I wasn't her anymore. I needed to get out of this out of this lap, out of this body, out of this ridiculous fantasy life where food was constantly shoved down my throat.

"I just..." I paused, trying to find the right words that wouldn't break their hearts. "I'm trying to be healthier. You know, for my own good."

"Healthier?" My father raised an eyebrow, looking thoroughly perplexed, as if the very concept of 'health' was foreign to him. "What nonsense is that? You're perfectly fine the way you are."

I sighed. They weren't getting it. No matter how much I tried to explain, it was like they were stuck in some kind of delusional bubble, where being grossly overweight was perfectly fine and stuffing yourself with an absurd amount of food was just a regular Tuesday.

"I was thinking," I ventured, trying a different approach, "maybe I could go to school? You know, get out a bit, make friends, learn things?"

Both my parents froze, their faces going pale as if I'd just suggested jumping into a pit of snakes. My mother was the first to react, her grip tightening even further. I could barely breathe.

"No," she said firmly, shaking her head. "Absolutely not. It's too dangerous out there. We can't have people near our precious daughter. You're much safer here, with us."

My father nodded in agreement, his expression grave. "The world is full of dangers, my dear. We can't risk losing you."

I blinked. "Dangerous? What could possibly happen at school?"

"Oh, you don't know," my mother whispered ominously, as if the very thought of me stepping outside was a death sentence. "There are people out there bad people who might want to harm you. You're far too precious to us to risk it."

I let out a long sigh, trying to think of another way to reason with them. "Okay, then... what about homeschooling? You know, a tutor or something? That way I can learn without going out."

My mother chuckled, her tone so patronizing it made my skin crawl. "Oh, sweetheart, you don't need schooling. Why would you need to learn anything when you can just stay here with us, safe and sound?"

"And," my father added, smiling fondly at me, "you won't even need to marry. You can stay with us forever, our precious little girl."

My jaw practically hit the floor. Stay here? With them? Forever? I could feel the panic rising in my chest, my breath quickening as I realized how absolutely bonkers this situation was becoming.

"Uh... that sounds... great?" I managed, although the words felt like ash in my mouth. "But don't you think it's important for me to be... independent? You know, learn how to live on my own?"

"Nonsense," my father declared with a wave of his hand. "You don't need to worry about those things. We'll take care of you. Forever."

I stared at them, my heart pounding in my chest. This wasn't just a little overprotective. This was full-on delusional. I needed to get out of here fast.

Before I could think it through, I made my move. I wriggled free of my mother's iron grip, using all the strength I could muster, and slid off her lap, nearly knocking over a plate of fruit in the process.

Her shocked gasp echoed behind me, but I was already on my feet.

"Where are you going?" she called, her voice full of worry.

"I, uh, need some air!" I shouted over my shoulder as I bolted toward the door. Well, bolted wasn't quite right. It was more of a fast walk. A very slow, fast walk, considering the state of my body.

My legs felt heavy, each step an effort as I made my way down the hallway, but I didn't care. I needed space. I needed to breathe. And most importantly, I needed to figure out how to escape this madness.

As I rounded the corner, my heart still racing, I spotted a door up ahead. The library, if I remembered correctly. It seemed like a good place to hide at least for a little while.

"Okay, Ren," I muttered to myself as I shuffled toward the door, my breath coming in labored gasps. "You've escaped the food prison... now what?"

I reached out for the handle, hoping that inside, I'd find something that would give me a clue about how to survive this insane world.