My Power of the Pen Stories

Regional Competition Story: ROUND 3

LOCATION: Malone University
PROMPT: Write about something you have to be nagged to do.
TITLE: You're Beautiful, Bella
RANK: 1
QUALITY POINTS: 94
AWARDS: none
ROUND: 3
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DISCLAIMER
This story was not made to offend anybody. I am not an expert on anorexia but I know it is a growing issue in teens all around the world. I wanted to express the struggle of these kids, teens, and adults by writing about it. Please do not take offense to anything written here. It was solely for the response of a prompt. If you have anorexia or anything similar, please stay strong. You can do this.

-Olivia
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"Bella!" a sharp, crisp voice I know as my mother's calls up the stairs, her words echoing through the house. "Time for dinner!"

I wince at the words, my heart dropping in dread.

Dinner.

"Coming," I shout back in a monotonous tone. I glance once more at the reflection staring back at me before making my way down the winding, carpeted steps. The soft, fluffy material tickles my toes as I walk downstairs as slow as possible, my dangerously thin legs wobbling underneath all my weight.

All my weight. Nausea overwhelms me and I grip the railing with shaky, bony fingers. The words echo through my brain a million times before I finally step onto the cool tile of the kitchen floor. I shove a corybantic strand of blonde hair behind my ear to get a better look at the variety of food sitting on my plate.

My legs move slowly as I walk, nibbling on my already chapped lips. I try to move faster, but my motions are slowed as if I am walking through water. The plate teeming with a healthy meal gets closer and closer with each exaggerated step I take, and my heart pounds faster, faster until I feel like it will come out of my chest.

And then I am sitting.

I wrap my tendril-like fingers around the cold metal material of my fork, a chill washing through my trembling body. I stare down at my food, the food that will not be consumed tonight. The sight makes me sick, and the image of me raising a forkful of salad to my lips--

"So, Bella... A-are you going to eat?" my father stammers, running his eyes over my. I, too, look down at my delicate frame, my ribs poking through the alarmingly pale hue of my skin. My twig-like legs hardly touch the ground as I sit, and my preposterously thin arms show all my veins coursing through me.

I look back at my father and his sorrowful expression as he watched me and a pang of sadness hits me like a bullet to the heart. He doesn't like to see me this way. But he doesn't understand. I'm fat.

"No," I choke out, standing from the table abruptly. I immediately burst into tears, my legs moving me by themselves up the steps. My whole body racks in sobs, tears leaving dark blotches on my clothing. I throw myself into the bathroom, locking the door as soon as I enter.

I look into the mirror.

Staring back at me is a sixteen year old girl with tear-filled eyes, a striking, brilliant blue color hidden behind the water droplets of sadness. Her wavy blonde hair falls to her elbow, trickling down her shoulders and stopping perfectly down her arm. Her bony stature is terrifying, and it's blatantly obvious what her problem is.

She's anorexic.

I fall to the ground, the tears coming fast, spilling onto the floor. Sounds and voices overwhelm me, and I cup my hands over my ears. It doesn't help.

"Are you going to eat?" My father. "You're awfully thin - eat a hamburger." My mother. People, voices, nagging me to eat. Just one bite. The tears in my mouth taste bitter as a childish voice speaks up.

"You're beautiful, Bella."

I stop.

I replay the last voice in my head over and over, the voice of my little sister flooding through me. My dead little sister.

You're beautiful, Bella.

I slowly stand, the tears coming to a slow and steady halt. I gaze into the mirror and focus on the blonde girl watching me.

"You're beautiful, Bella," I whisper to the girl in the glass before me. And even though her cheeks are stained with the remnants of tears and her body is deathly thin, a smile placed itself on her lips as a small child wraps her arms around her skinny waist, a smaller doppelgänger of the anorexic teen hugging her back.

"You're beautiful, Bella," the young girl, my sister, tells me.

Then, just as I am about to reply, the image of my little sister slowly faded away, and I am left with a baffled blonde staring back at me.

You're beautiful, Bella.

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Okay, this is probably my favorite one from regionals. I still think some things could be fixed but overall I really did like it. I don't really write about stuff like this but the prompt just sparked the idea. I hope nobody is mad at me if I got anything wrong about this horrible disorder, honestly I hate how it even exists. Everyone deserves to be happy. And you may be wondering if Bella is that happy person in the end. That's for you to figure out. Anyways, the question of the chapter is: What is the most serious thing you have ever written about? See you guys later!

P.S. Congratulations to jajayray for placing second at her regional competition! :D

-Olivia