Skin And Bone

I locked the door and turned the water on, just to bury the horrid sounds I made. I knelt beside the toilet and stuck my finger down my throat as far as possible. My eyes watered and I gagged, but nothing came up.

I tried again and again.

Confusion rushed through my veins, along with anger and hunger.

I grasped hold of my toothbrush and tried with that.

Could I have possibly thrown up all my insides? Was I nothing more then skin and bone? Just as I started to believe it, a bile taste rose from the back of my throat.

I scrowled in the mirror at the disgusting boy. He stared back with a glint of sadness in his bright blue eyes. Under those eyes were dark, nasty purple circles. That being the effect of insomnia. Insomnia provided sleepless nights and depressing thinking. Depressing thoughts then lead to dangerous ones. Those scissors that sat on the dresser became a threat. It can become the object that makes ragged cuts on your wrist.

Black hair fell in front of the boys sad eyes, and yet, another thing that I hated about this boy was the fact that he was so fat.

Fat.

Fat.

Fat.

Fat.

Fat and ugly.

I lied to myself, thats not what I hated the most about the boy in the mirror. What i hated the most was the fact i WAS that BOY.