Starvation

Somehow, he knew

John came home early that day. Anna had gone home shortly after lunch, complaining of a stomach ache. John had tried to stay that afternoon, but his worrying got the better of him. As he opened the door, the horrible sound of retching and sobbing filled his ears.

"Anna?" called John as he hurried upstairs. "What's happened?"

"John? What are you doing here?" As John rushed into the bathroom, his wife pulled her fingers out of her mouth and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.

"Anna? Were you, were you making yourself throw up?" Anna giggled nervously and sniffled.

"Of course not, John. Why would you say that?"

"Because your fingers were down your throat, Anna. Because you've lost so, so much weight. Because I saw you. That's why I would say such a thing."

"I told you, John. I lost a lot of weight in prison. It takes time to gain it back. Besides, I should think you should prefer me this thin."

"What? You think I prefer you stick thin? That's why you make yourself throw up? That's why you don't eat?" Anna opened her mouth to protest, but she suddenly grew very pale and fell backwards. John leapt forward to catch her and deposited her on the bed. He ran his hands along her body and tears began pooling in his eyes. He could feel every rib, even through her clothes. As his hands travelled lower, he felt her hipbones pressing into his palms. Tears streaked his face and Anna's eyes fluttered.

John wiped his eyes as Anna sat up.

"John? What happened?"

"Oh, my sweet Anna. You are so thin it's making you ill."

"Don't be ridiculous, John. I'm doing it for you."

"For me? Anna, you never displeased me. You were always perfect to me."

"Truly?"

"Truly."