I searched for my mom's scale. She always hid it in fear of this moment. The moment I started to care about my body. The moment it would become deadly.
She wasn't home. I rummaged through her stuff and managed to find it in a spot where she always hid stuff. I turned it on and took it to the bathroom. I undressed and stepped on it.
80kg it read. I frowned. If it was such a low number why am I so fat? I quickly got dressed and put the scale back. I grabbed my phone layed on her bed and searched. "What does kg mean" "kg in lbs" "5'2 girl 80kg" I finally got it. In order to get skinnier I would have to drop the numbers even lower as low as possible.
I put my phone away and searched for workout routines. I chose one and worked out all day. Until my mom came home. I quickly shut the TV off and walked towards my room.
I wanted to know how much I lost after that. But I couldn't risk her finding out. I just kept thinking. I don't feel any different. Have I lost any weight..I should work out harder next time.
YOU ARE READING
Proana
PoetryA story about a girl who found out about ana through social media and became addicted. (kind based off me)