Eat!

Calories.

It was the first word that popped into my head, as my eyes flickered open and the morning sun streamed through the white shutters. My belly growled, demanding the 'C' word... demanding food. I curled up against the damp covers, and tryed to muffle the racket that emanated from my stomach. I just lay there, waiting for the nagging feeling of being hungry - no, starving - to go away.

Finally, my body seemed to get it; there would be no food this morning, or infact, at lunch.

I rolled out of bed with a thud, wincing when my legs emerge from the bed sheets. I can't look - they are fat tree trunks that should never be seen by man-kind. I almost sobbed thinking about it; I shouldn't eat so much. I'm such a-a...

Fattie.

Yes, that sounds about right.

I walked over to the cream set of scales placed exactly two metres from the door, and two metres from the wall. I stepped on, carefully rearranging the soft toys placed around it in straight lines as I waited for the red needle to settle. It seemed like years before it finally did.

Ninety-three-point-one pounds.

I jumped off abruptly; I hadn't wanted too see that. I must be eating too much...yes, that must be it. I had been hoping to reach a perfect ninety, no more, no less.

No matter. I'll just have to half my dinner at night, and cut the raisins.

After that was over, I grabbed the Hoover and whizzed quickly around my room for about an hour. It probably shouldn't have took that long, but I don't like the idea of leaving any dirt on the floor. It's just unhygienic. I heard the door click, and in stepped my mother.

She wore a pink fluffy gown and a tired grin on her face. "Hey Honey, have you seen my glasses?"

I laughed at her dopey expression, and pointed to the top of her head, where her glasses were tangled amongst her chestnut hair. "They're on your head, Mom. And you really shouldn't sleep in those."

She looked confused for a second, felt around the tangled heap and then laughed. "Of course they are." Her smile faltered a bit. I then realised I was wearing nothing but a t-shirt and panties, and got self conscious. "Did you have breakfast this morning, Hon?"

I hid the panic inside me with a poker face. "Of course, I had some Toast." I smiled and added, "I even had some jam on it. Delicious!"

Mom slowly raised her eyebrow in that way that she did when she wasn't buying a word of what I said. There was a long silence before she finally shook her head, and walked out the room mumbling something about metabolism.

When the door finally clicked shut, I pulled out the scrumpled up 'morning plan' I kept. You know, so I get thinner. I unfolded it, and read it out loud:

"7.00; Wake up. 7.15; Weigh in. 7.30; Hoover. 8.30; Shower. 9.00; Park." I announced. I cringed when I saw the last one; it was a new addition to the time table. I guess now I'm not as big as I was, I can go out. Maybe when I'm ninety pounds I'll even go to the shops.

So, I did all these things, at each exact time, but still found I had five minutes left. For a few seconds, I nibbled my nails but then stopped when I realised if made them bleed. I wonder how many calories a finger nail has?

I didnt know, so I picked up the Hoover, and cleaned to room again.

**********

I buried my hands deeper into the pockets of my hoodie as the fresh summer air got colder. I stopped and took a second to breathe in the fresh air. It was hard to understand why I'd kept myself locked in my house all summer.

"Because you're fat, Alice," I reminded myself matter-of-factly, weaving in and out of the trees. I made sure no one was around when I walked to the ponds edge, anxious that someone would see me. My fat, and my ugly face.

I gazed at the ducks for a second, even giggling when two started wrestling (God I hope they were wrestling). Suddenly, my stomach growled; my hunger pangs got worse the less I eat, which worried me because I already ate way too much.

I turned around, to sit on the bench.

I jumped out of my skin when I saw someone else sitting there.

I ducked my head instinctively; I was embarrassed to be seen by this guy, mostly because he was a guy. When I peeked up at him through my curtain of hair, the first thing I noticed was his nose. He had an oddly shaped nose that no girl could ever get a way with, but somehow, he made it work. He even looked cute. Upon closer inspection, I could make out the tiny flecks of brown in his green eyes. The second thing I noticed, was that he held a guitar.

Odd.

I shuffled over to the bench and plonked down. I sat as far away from him as possible, occasionally peeking up at him. He grinned boyishly when he caught me looking, and I blushed furiously; his cheeks dimpled when he smiled.

"Hey." He said.

"Hi." I replied hesitantly, wrapping my arms around my chest. Right at that moment, my stomach let out a huge growl. I cursed under my breath.

The boy chuckled, and began fishing around in his pockets for something. Finally, he took out a bright, juicy green apple. He offered it to me, eyebrow raised.

My mouth watered involuntarily, but I shook my head. "I can't."

I hated the way the boys eyes narrowed, like he was searching me, inside out. I hated that he wouldn't put the apple away, because I was so hungry.

I was about to get up and leave, but the boy was fiddling with his guitar. In spite of myself, I was curious.

He strummed a few chords on his battered guitar, and opened his mouth to sing.

My mouth curved into a smile as he sang about early mornings and cravings for coffee, losing car keys and cold showers. He strummed one last chord, and gently set down his guitar beside him.

I stuck out a hand for him to shake. "Alice Stringer," I said.

The boys grin grew so big it looked like it might fly off. "Sam McLennan," he said, taking my hand. "Nice to meet you."

We shook hands longer than necessary; when we let go, we both stood.

I nodded him goodbye and exited the park with a fuzzy feeling running through my veins. For the brief time I had talked to him, I had forgotten I was fat, and ugly, and useless. I loved this feeling.

I was about 5 metres down the road, heading to my house when something hit me on the back of the head. I whirrled around, but the only person there was Sam, walking in the opposite direction. I looked down; the thing that had hit me was a paper aeroplane.

I picked it up gingerly, and unfolded the wing. A single word was written inside:

'Eat!'