House arrest

chapter 4

"What the hell is all of that racket? You fucking in there?" Ivy's grandma asked through her closed bedroom door.
"No, grandma, I'm working out."
"Geez, it's about time! Hah!" Her grandma laughed nervously.
Ivy cried a little bit, sighed, and went back to attempting her crunches. They just weren't working. She used to be able to do about 80 at a time, but now she couldn't even do one. Last year, she could see her abdomen muscles tense up while she exercised, but there wasn't a single trace of them today. Still, she was determined. She tried and tried for 2 hours. By the end of it, she was covered in sweat. She had managed 4 pushups, planked with improper form for 12 seconds, and did 20 jumping jacks.
She sat her fat ass down onto her bed, breathing heavily. Her shiny red gym, stretchy gym shorts were purchased about 3 years earlier. They were now stretched to capacity. She used to have to pull a string to tighten them around her, but now she was wondering if they'd break. The waistband left a bright red circle around her waist.
The next day, Ivy tried to workout again. It was 98 degrees outside though. Humid Michigan summers and a lack of air conditioning are never a good mix, especially for an out of shape person to be trying to work out. Ivy passed out cold onto her floor. Her grandma had heard the thud, and she rushed into help. Ivy was out cold.
The ambulance came, and she was treated for heat stroke.
"You're overweight for your height, you should really try to find a cool place to start off with to do light exercises before progressing into strenuous workouts," a doctor informed her as she laid on the gurney.
Ivy pointed down at her black ankle bracelet.
"Oooh, well, if I were you, I'd ask the judge for permission to go to the gym once a week. Or get a job where you're on your feet a lot."
Ivy thought long and hard that night. She didn't want to get a job. She didn't need to with all of the cash she had from 2 years selling drugs. She called her probation officer.
"Hello, this is Ivy."
"Well hello there, what's up?" Kevin replied.
"Well, I was wondering if there's a way that I can go to a gym for maybe an hour each day? I can't stand being cooped up for so long anymore."
"Oh no. No there's no way. I got another client that asked me that a few years ago. I told her yes, and she cut the shit off, hopped on a train, and I still haven't heard from her. So no. You're almost done, you've got what like 4 more months left?"
"But it's for my health, like don't you care, aren't you supposed to try and help me?" Ivy pleaded.
"No, I know you're just self conscious. I've seen what you look like lately, and I'm glad you've gotten a reality check. See ya next week, bye."
Ivy's jaw spread open. She cried that entire night in the hospital. The next morning, she was sent back home.
Ivy did not speak, and strangely, she did not eat for that entire day. She seemed off in a daze, and her grandmother took notice. "Are you feeling alright hun? Do you need to go back to the hospital?"
Ivy continued staring blankly as she sat on her bed.
"Hun? Answer me! C'mon, did they give you drugs in there or what?"
Ivy's thousand yard stare suddenly became focused. "Leave me the fuck alone! I can't be trapped here anymore! Ahhh!" Ivy smacked her grandmother across the face, sending dentures crashing into the white wall.
The stunned grandmother ran into her room and dialed for the police. "My granddaughter just lost it, I mean she has really lost it!"

That's how Ivy ended up in the loony bin. That's how I met her.