five // 122.3 lbs

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"they will play a game and say they know what you're going through."

- kitchen sink by twenty one pilots



I woke up the next morning with tired eyes from crying and this terrible numb feeling that left me staring up at the ceiling. After about a minute of doing nothing I rolled over and noticed the sticky  note sitting on the nightstand.

I reached over and grabbed the note, bringing it towards me to read it.

It read, 'We need to talk. Come find me when you're ready - ashton xx'

Letting out a sigh I flopped back down. I wasn't ready to tell him anything. Whether it was something small like my nightmares, or something major like how I starve myself to feel pretty. If I told him either of these things he'd judge me, and maybe even send me back to the orphanage.

No one wants to deal with a freak. No one wants to deal with you.


After cleaning myself up I journeyed out of my room and downstairs to find Ashton. I walked through the foyer into the living room, and when he wasn't there I went to the kitchen.

Ashton stood over the stove with his back to me. I didn't know what to say and just stood there, waiting for him to notice me. He turned and jumped upon seeing me.

"You scared me," Ashton laughed and turned back to the stove.

"Yeah... Sorry." I awkwardly mumbled.

"It's okay. Do you want tea?"

"Uh, sure."

Ashton nodded and poured two cups, before coming over and sitting at the table. He patted the spot across from him, and I reluctantly sat down.

"So... Last night," he began. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No. I'm used to it," I couldn't stop myself.

Oh my God I was such an idiot. Under the table my fingernails dug into my arm.

"Used to it?" Ashton questioned.

I had already said too much. "It's fine, really," I started to stand, wishing I could just disappear.

"No, sit down," he sternly said. "Talking about it could really help. I'm here to help, not judge."

I sighed and looked down at my lap, observing my thighs without a single thought. The way the fat expanded when I sat down made me sick. I wanted it gone.


I looked up, startled. "No, I'm fine."

"It seemed to have shaken you up quite a bit last night."

I was at a loss of words and sighed in defeat. "I just keep having these reoccurring nightmares. That's all." Not too much information, and not too little.

"Reoccurring? Can you remember them?"

"Not really," I lied. I had too, if I wanted to stay here."I know I keep having it and it scares me, but I can never remember it the next day."

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