"Here we go again," I whispered. My hand slammed the buzzing alarm clock that demanded 4:00 was the time I would be awakened. Groggy eyes peered to my side as I took a deep breath. Same room. Same walls. Same thing. The absence of light outside the window did not register in my mind and I looked elsewhere. My arms gingerly lifted a number of pounds before the weight shifted to my legs. I felt ill upon standing. The ground grew closer as my knees collapsed and folded over one another. Waves of nausea and chills haunted me for what seemed like hours. The clock read 4:12. My body cried in pain and yet I made not a sound, nor would I consider doing so for it meant the risk of waking them.
Clawing my way back to a standing position, I could feel my heart heavily pounding. My fingers traced their way up the edge of my long sleeved cotton shirt until settled on my chest, just below my collarbone. I stood there witnessing the rhythm. "Guess I'm still alive," I smirked when I thought it, then immediately regretted it when my stomach forced acid up through my esophagus, burning my mouth and throat. My lungs expanded rapidly in order to fight off the black spots that clouded my vision. I felt so weak and barely could walk towards the adjacent room. Upon entering it, my hand slowly lifted and fumbled with the light switch. A flash of white light dimmed into an artificial yellow.
I glanced in the corner of the room nervously. The scale was still there, same as always. My feet slid across the tile, occasionally slowing down when they grazed the grouting between each decorative piece. As I pushed the "on" button that nested within the metal, a digital - - - appeared, indicating it was calibrating. Immediatly when the zeros appeared, I took a step foward and held my breath.
...
...
...
118.8 pounds. A sigh of relief flowed through my body, followed by a sharp pain in my stomach. Down .4 pounds from yesterday. Alright, let's get it to 118 even.
