I will never eat again. I hate myself I hate myself I hate myself I hate myself I hate myself so so so so much. So much it hurts to breathe. My lungs feel fat, stomach feels fat and it aches, brain feels fat, legs, arms, fingers, neck, cheeks. All feels fat. Everything is fat.
My fingers annoy the back of my throat, sending an awful shiver down my spine. My throat was hoarse and my cheeks hurting from puking all morning.
Fucking 103 pounds. I gained four pounds in one night. I hate myself.
I will not eat until I'm at least ninety. To be honest, eighty sounded a lot better actually.
But no matter how hard I try, nothing comes up my throat anymore, my digestion had already started its process as I slept the horrors away. The horrors as known as binging.
I felt like killing myself now. How could I do this to myself? All the hard work, for nothing?
For absolutely nothing?
I hate myself I hate myself I hate myself.
***
As Monday rolls around, mom has stopped her worried glances. Her gullible attitude doesn't want to believe that her own daughter could suffer from something so stupid as this.
I snatch a granola bar from the counter and mom looks pleased at that. "Remember to eat." She says.
"Of course." I smile, but it doesn't reach my eyes. Remember was a wrong word. Maybe she knows that I don't forget to eat, maybe she just wants to believe so. If she believes that, it'd be easier for her to deal with my starving.
But I was too heavy and I couldn't stop anymore. I needed to be at least 90 and there was no backing up anymore.
"Do you mind if we go to have dinner with Dahlia?" I lie, but it brings out a smile on my mother's lips.
"Not at all, go have fun." She says.
"Thanks, we will." I smile and turn to leave.
"Bye!" I yell before shutting the door behind me.
I begin my running as soon as my house disappears from my sight. My head feels a bit uneasy and leg's unstable but I don't care. I just needed to lose the extra weight I'd put on with so much hard work. Otherwise my hard work would be for nothing and it felt like a betrayal and waste.
I quickly dump the granola bar into someone's dumpster, not caring if it was a bad thing to do. During the weight loss phase I had become really good at the not caring part.
My legs hurt, but I don't stop running until my heart feels like exploding from exhaustion. It annoys me to stop losing so many calories, but my legs give up and I collapse in the middle of the road. Embarrassment fills my cheeks as I try to gather my strength, praying to gods that nobody else took this path.
My arms find their strength somewhere between the minutes I just lie on my back, which is hurting from all the little rocks beneath me, and watch the spring filled sky. Birds were flying above and soft breeze felt good against my skin. I let myself rest for a few minutes, which turns into a good ten minute-rest.
I finally clutch myself halfway up with my hands, but stop at the very lightheaded feeling my head gives me. It fills my brain, my mind, everything in me and I feel something rising up my throat.
Vomit leaves my mouth and onto the ground, me twisting my body just enough for it not to hit my clothes.
I've never felt worse, I think. Never in this whole starvation and purging and hurting myself. Something felt very wrong with me right now.
My vomit doesn't contain anything else than stomach acids, as far as I can see with my blurry eyes. It's disgusting, but once I glance around to see if anyone saw me just doom this road, I finally find the strength to pull myself fully up. Hastily, but still.
My poor legs have never felt as fragile as now, but they have to work now. I make them work despite the pain and discomfort. At the moment I really wish I had a phone, because I had no idea how late I was from school now. Probably a lot. Though math wasn't exactly the place I felt like being right now.
To my surprise, I make my way to school alive. Not that my body felt very alive, the opposite actually.
On one of the high walls of the building, a clock shows it's already been twenty minutes into the class. I weigh my options; go back to the math class to do nothing but count my own calories or go read Frankenstein in the library.
It's not a hard choice I must admit.
***
The bell rings, too soon for my taste. I had just gotten to the sixteenth chapter and things finally had gotten more interesting.
As usual, my breath had hollowed from being in this moldy place for an hour, circled by warming sunlight and old grimy smell of books. But I had already destroyed myself, it didn't matter if I spent my days here molding as the books.
But biology came up next in my schedule, and mr. Perry had already gotten enough of my skipping. So I reluctantly shove the book into my backpack and make my way many stairs down to main area.
Copper hair that had become a little familiar throughout the last days in German, stands out of the rest of students. August.
I try to spot Fox besides him, as they usually hung out together, but I don't see him.
"Hey August." I greet him as I get closer.
"Oh, hey." He mutters and I waste no more energy to meaningless chitchat.
"Where's Fox?"
"I heard he stayed home today, fever or something." He shrugs.
Even if he shrugs and makes no gesture of concern, my heart suddenly rises up to my throat.
"Oh." I just manage to get out. He seemed fine on Friday, so what could've he possibly gotten just now?
"What's wrong? He's just sick." August wonders but I wave him off and make my way to the classroom, hoping that with some miracle Fox was there smiling and laughing and making me laugh with him.
But he's not there. He's in that too toxic household.
"Bellemonte, you showed up today." mr. Perry says sarcastically but I don't bite back now, not with all the worry curling inside me.
I needed to find Fox, but there was nothing I could do now. The teachers would begin to seriously worry about my grades if I skipped more classes and they'd call my mom. Which was not a good idea.
Besides, I wasn't even sure anything had happened. He really could be sick.
But it wouldn't hurt to check- or at least I hope.
***
I hate biology alone. Since Fox came into my life, I haven't felt alone and in class we always made the chemical reactions together. Today I had to make them alone and for some reason, I felt a lot lonelier than before I knew he existed.
Being alone bothers me, so as soon as the boring class ends, I make my way towards the many stairs to the library.
Walking down the hallway, staring at my Converses, I really realise Fox's absences. Walking alone looking like a cringe loner felt like everyone's eyes were on me, judging. And it did not help to feel fat all the time.
I see Abby, Dahlia and Leo hanging in our usual spot but I give them no smile. But I don't answer to the glaring Dahlia and Leo spills me.
"Long time no see." Leo says as I'm passing their table.
"Missed me?" I ask with a biting tone.
"Other way around." He mutters and gives me a captious look. "Have you gained weight? I thought you were on a diet?" He's checking my body up and down again as I stop on my tracks and turn to him.
For some reason, my eyes beg me to let them water and cry a waterfall because it hurt so much to hear those words. Instead, I try to not let my emotions show, "I've lost almost 60 pounds."
"What?" Abby suddenly turns to me, eyes widening.
"Pretty good huh?" I smile wickedly, proud of my accomplishment.
"You just look sick." Dahlia stares at my body and the bags under my eyes.
"And you just look jealous." I bite back, annoyed by their sudden change of attitude.
"I'm not jealous, why would I want to look like that? Sick?" She asks, now suddenly turning from angry to concerned.
"I don't look sick."
"You look like someone drained every bit of your energy and soul and made a skeleton out of them. Though your thighs are still pretty thick." Leo shrugs.
"Just fuck off." I say but I know he's right.
Abby and Dahlia look unsure of what to do, glancing back at me and each other.
"What did you do to lose sixty pounds in so little time?" Leo asks looking unbothered.
He stares at me a little challengingly, as if looking forward for my answer. "I got into a calorie deficit and exercised." Yeah, five hundred calories per day and fast every third day, at least. Until now because I will not eat a bite before I weigh 90 pounds.
"That's it? Why is that that I don't believe you?" He asks.
"Well that's what I did asshole."
"So no starving and getting a little anorexic?" He annoys me.
"No!" I lie.
"I bet you throw up every bite you take." He laughs a little. I'm caught off guard, shocked by his response.
"Leo just stop it." Dahlia buts in. "Liv, I think you should eat something." She turns to me and I feel like screaming. Now she wanted me to get fat again? Now I was suddenly too skinny?
"That's useless, she'll just stick her fingers down her throat after." Leo says.
"Just leave me the fuck alone." I can't handle a second more, and I storm off.
The whole way to the library I'm almost bawling my eyes out, but I hold it in. Until as I finally close the doors behind me, I let the stream begin.
Heavy sobs fill the quiet moldy air, my sobs. I cry so hard, because everything they said hurt. 'Stick her fingers down her throat'. The way Dahlia said 'Liv' as if we were still friends. 'Your thighs are still pretty thick'. 'Why would I want to look like that, sick?'. 'Have you gained weight?' ...
It all feels so bad. So so so bad. And I feel guilty for not exercising enough, for eating too much on Saturday, for only losing three pounds in two days. I need to lose more.
Only ten pounds left, I promise myself before sinking against the heavy bookshelf behind me from exhaustion.
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