D A Y O N E

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A/N: Beautiful banner is by oceanwaved

A/N: Beautiful banner is by oceanwaved

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Hunger.

Pure, unadulterated hunger pulses through my veins. Hunger is the new emotion in this tug of war happening in my body. It is the fuel that is driving my body to insanity. An emotion I can't control. A tug of war that I can't stop.

Eat.

Pray.

Eat.

Pray.

Freaking eat!

Patience pretty girl, pray.

I slam my head against the table and groan loudly before picking up my sad excuse for a draft. I squeeze the paper in my fist and throw it into the waste bin located at the corner of my room. It lands into the bin perfectly, joining it's fallen, ancestors.

Great. Because I'm hungry, I can't even write. Not that I'm a particularly good writer on a normal day but this is a new low, even for me. Hunger as fuel to a tug of war? What the heck am I thinking?!

I groan again and bang my head against the table, ignoring the sting that comes with the impact.

"Getting a concussion won't stop the hunger," I vaguely hear my father say. "Really. I tried it once upon a time. It didn't work."

"Since when do you fast?" I raise my head to look up at him, lips pursed in confusion. His brown eyes twinkle as he walks into my room.

"I was on a diet, thank you very much." He sits on my bed like he owns it. Typical.

My father and I are really close. Ever since my mother died right after giving birth to me, my dad had taken the liberty to try and be a good single father. It worked for a while; just the two of us against the world, eating Chinese take out every day. That is until he fell for my middle school teacher, Georgia, who also happened to have a daughter named Vanessa, and also couldn't cook a decent meal to save her life.

And voila; new family members and a larger bill from the Chinese restaurant.

"What are you thinking about?" my father actually has the audacity to spread his tall, lean body across my bed. He kicks off his shoes and crosses his legs for extra measure. I roll my eyes.

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