Unwell

Stuck in Winter

Stuck in Winter

"You're a lot heavier than you used to be," the elder woman said with rolled eyes and a pointed index finger. 

            The young girl tried not to show any sign of weakness to the lady who gave birth to her, but she wasn't sure how convincing she actually was.  She was never good at pretending what she was feeling, no matter how great of a liar she considered herself to do.

            Life is one big lie she was failing at.

            Her stomach roared in protest to her thoughts, the sound filling up all the space in her ear. It seemed that her hunger was the only thing that was keeping her alive these days. If she couldn't hear the sound of it all as it ripped through her body, she didn't think she would feel anything at all.

            Even though she didn’t want to admit it out loud, she was glad that she felt the pain. She deserved it, didn’t she? Her family sure thought that, for they openly expressed it daily. In the steady rhythm that matched her slowed heartbeat, they expressed in sloppy stanzas the words they’d use to describe her.

            She started to believe the Elders, so she made more suffocate her heart.

            No one said a word, as the world fell off her bones. Hours upon hours were spent daily sculpting this new and flawless persona that the girl wanted for herself, the only thing beginning consumed by her was sweat. She was made of gold then, the announced queen of hunger.

            Only the best of queen held their secrets closer to home than their enemies were able to reach, for that was all she did when she wasn’t sheading all that she was. The child didn’t have the energy to do anything else, but she didn’t let herself think of that.

            It didn’t matter to her that she could barely hear the sound of her own heart anymore, as the sound was constantly whenever she ran her life away. She didn’t know the last time she picked up a pencil or what the last book she read was because she didn’t care about such trivial things like hobbies anymore.

            The thoughts were the only thing that was able to get through the syrupy fog of her mind and she greeted it with open arms, embracing her old friend known as self-loathing. They repetitively stabbed her in the gut with a knife as sharp as her hip bone, trying to carve out every last demon that went down her throat.

            It was all worth the price of being as light as the air that barely passed through her lungs.

            Pretty girls didn’t weigh 90 pounds like she did, of course. The girl needed to get below the mark, finally ready to make her debut in the world as perfect. A flat stomach, thighs that didn’t make her look like she swallowed a whale and the acceptance of the Elders is what she desired; she could only get the good things if she listened to her savior of starvation.

            Only when she began to build herself up from her ruins, they noticed her eating habits. The Elders were almost as venomous as the voice inside her head, ashamed that she let herself go. The girl was truly vile, a hundred pounds too heavy at the end. She was a disgrace to the village of hopes and dreams, casted of as the girl who broke the scale.

            Pretty girls don’t eat, either.

            "I know," Child whispered to all of the shadows clogging her vision with their disproving looks. "I know."

Oh, the season to be jolly.

(but for reals, i have no idea what the heck i'm writing anymore.  please expect more random and poorly written one paged stories from this account, as everything sucks and i need to vent. i figured i needed something else to be up for this account, so i quickly just wrote this while listening to beyonce's pretty hurts. hopefully i won't regret this in the morning cough i will cough