Somber Tales: A Collection of Short Stories

Dying Daily

Have you ever watched someone dying?

I don't mean taking their last breath or hearing the prolonged beeeeeep on the monitor.

But actively -daily- dying.

Tara

The lights flashed as Tara ran through her cycle of poses. Hand on hip, face straight forward, give a sly smile. Then she prances back down the runway. Modeling was stressful, always having to be "on." Tara walks through the large black curtain, happy to be backstage and away from the crowd. The dressing rooms were full of IStyle magazines, featuring her smiling face right on page 7. She hated that picture, in fact she hated most pictures of herself. Photoshopped and fake.

Tara's time on the runway was done for tonight. She grabs for a makeup wipe. She begins with her face, covered in black eyeliner and blush. Then moves onto her arms. A strange place to put makeup, but it was necessary for Tara. Her scars were faded, but still present.

After changing out of the couture gown, she arrives back to her loft. A stressful day leads to a stressful night. Tara knows only two ways to let off steam. She hops onto the treadmill and chooses the highest speed. Fitness was truly her passion. It made her feel strong, fierce, independent.

But it didn't always work on curing her stress.

Sweating and panting, Tara stopped running. The adrenaline in her system made her feel even more panicked.

She had to let out the stress in a way her mother had taught her years ago. Although her mother had kicked this bad habit, she had replaced it with a new one.

Tara opened the bottom drawer of her dresser. Underneath all of the clothes, she found what she was hunting for. A shiny razor blade, used once in awhile for emergency situations like tonight.

Liz

Liz stares at the bedroom ceiling above her, the loud commotion of the outside streets does nothing to calm her. Blaring music, honking, shouting. This makes it impossible for Liz to fall asleep. With a sigh, she pulls out several fashion magazines and turns on the radio. The latest summer jam plays in the background as she begins to skim through the magazines. Page 3, a skin and bones model with long blonde hair and large eyes. Liz rips the page from the magazine and sets it aside. She continues flipping. Page 7, a tall, thin runway model with a love for fitness. Liz tears the page.

After tearing out a handful of beautiful, or more importantly skinny, women Liz marches to her kitchen and places each picture on the refrigerator as motivation. She stares back at the women. They seem to mock her.

Liz shakes her head and opens the refrigerator door. Leftover pasta, a gallon of milk, some lunch meat, and an apple. She reaches for the apple, but slowly makes a detour. Before she knows it, she is microwaving the pasta and drinking straight from the jug of milk.

Before changing her mind, she scarfs down everything. Then heads back for more. In the freezer she finds chocolate ice cream, a microwavable meal, and some popsicles. She eats until she can't find anymore food.

Liz immediately rushes to the bathroom. Her body cannot handle this much food and she will expel it any way possible. She clutches on to the toilet, feeling so weak that she may pass out.