Skinny • Book 1 In The Reality Series

Katy

The sun beating down on the top of my head I looked around me at the group of girls stood talking and laughing while I stood alone. Looking down at the horrific shorts I was forced to wear which bunched in the crotch and the moisture wicking shirt which clung hideously to my body accentuating every roll and lump of fat I wished I could disappear.

“Alright ladies.” Mr. Gunn sighed at the front of the group, “Let’s try go get two miles in.”

Next to me, Annie pushed her glasses further up her nose and raised her hand.

“What a surprise?” Bethany laughed, “The retard has question.”

“Yes Annie.” Mr. Gunn grumbled, removing his baseball cap and wipping his forehead off on the back of his arm.

“Is that two times?” Annie asked.

“No.” Mr. Gunn replied, “But that was a good question. You are you going to be running two miles, which is eight laps.”

A unanimous groan rose from the group.

“Is there a problem?” Mr. Gunn demanded.

“It’s hot.” Lexi whined.

“And your point is?” Mr. Gunn sighed, “The boys ran twice that this morning.”

“It was cooler this morning.” I mumbled.

“You know what?” Mr. Gunn laughed, “Since you girls seem to have such a problem with two laps, let’s make it three.”

“What?” Bethany cried, “No!”

“Yes.” Mr. l Gunn replied, “I suggest you get started before I make it four.”

“Nice going Katy.” Lexi spat.

“Fat ass.” Bethany grumbled bumping into my hard as she walked past me.

“I’m sorry.” I muttered.

“It’s okay.” Annie said kindly, “I like to run.”

“Alright ladies that’s enough chit chat.” Mr. Gunn grumbled, “Twelve laps on my whistle.”

Shooting me a look of disgust, Bethany cracked her neck, before taking off on the whistle. Immediately the group surged forward. Taking a deep breath I trotted after them.

Here’s the thing about running when you’re fat, it sucks. For one, you can feel everything moving, jiggling and bouncing. You can feel your thighs rubbing together, sucking the fabric of your shorts up like a vacuum, you can hear the slapping of your skin colliding with itself with a disgusting, meaty clapping. It hurts, everywhere, in your knees, your ankles, your feet, but worst of all in your chest. It’s life every breath you take is through a clogged straw. You can feel your heart twisting and dancing, trying to do its job and failing miserably.

And then the bad stuff kicks in.

First it’s your vision, it wavers at first, like when you look into the distance on a really, really hot day. Then the spots come, and the flashes of white, until you’re looking through slits, struggling to see, struggling to keep putting one foot infront of the other.

Your brain knows the only way that the pain will stop is if you stop, but you can’t, not with girls laughing at you and throwing out insults every time they passed you, or with your coach screaming at you to pick up the pace.

After your vision, it’s your hearing. The while world goes quiet, like when you ride in an airplane and your ears have to pop, everything gets fainter and fainter around you while your breathing grows steadily louder inside you, until it’s this ragged, deafening roar.

There’s this feeling, in your face, behind your nose like you just inhaled water, a stinging sensation, not painful but on pleasant.

After that comes the layer of ‘I can’t anymore’ over your throat. A phlegmy coat of something, that you try to cough away but it doesn’t budge. You try to hack it up, hawk a loogie, cough it away, but it doesn’t budge, instead it increases, taking up more and more of your airway and that’s when the dizziness sets in.

Everything around you is spinning, your head is pounding, you can feel your heartbeat in your temples, it’s about to hammer through your shirt, it’s beating in your wrists, it’s everywhere, it’s a warning, your body screaming at you to stop, that it physically can’t anymore, that it’s done.

Forcing out a cough, desperately trying to clear my throat I shuffled forward and a walk paced run.

“Keep your feet up Pratt!” Mr. Gunn shouted from the other side of the football field, “You still have seven more laps you’re not even halfway done!”

Behind me I could hear them coming. Their expensive running shoes tapping on the track, their even breathing rising unanimously.

“Hey loser.” Some girl I didn’t know the name of, laughed as she breezed past me, her skinny arms and legs pumping.

“What’s that sound?” Bethany’s familiar nasal drawl laughed.

“She sounds like Darth Vader.” Lexi giggled.

Slowing down, Bethany imitated my movements and breathing as she passed.

“Help guys!” she spluttered, “I-I’m so fat I’m choking on my own blubber!”

“Pick it up Shamu.” A girl named Sarah giggled, “If you would actually run you wouldn’t be so fucking fat.”

“Oh my God look at her legs!” Bethany laughed, running backwards, her voice growing quieter as the distance between us increased, “Her fat thighs ate them!”

Tears filling my eyes I pulled my sweat soaked shorts down, however after two steps they bunched again.

Taking in ragged breaths, I coughed, trying desperately to clear my throat, however with a ball of emotion in the way it all started to go downhill. Unable to breathe, I stopped.

Doubling over I placed my hands on my knees trying desperately to get a breathe.

“Katy!” Mr. Gunn shouted ahead of me, “Get it moving or I’m adding a lap!”

Choking on a sob and tears rolling down my cheeks I forced myself upright and forward.

Wiping the sweat off of my forehead with my hand I watched the group stop ahead of me, sitting down on the synthetic grass of the football field, finished with their twelve laps.

“Keep moving.” Mr. Gunn shouted out as I passed, “You’ve got six more laps.”

“Run forest run!” one girl shouted.

“No!” someone else laughed, “Forest grump was skinny.”

“Okay.” The girl giggled, “Run fat ass run!”

Laughter erupted from the group.

A mess of snot and tears, struggling to take in the meager puffs of air I was managing to take in I shuffled forward, my body aching and my mind racing, knowing that there was no way I could make it another lap, let alone six.