You could feel the burn of the acidic liquid as it climbs up your throat agonizingly slow. You pull your fingers out of your mouth as you feel it reach the back of your throat. Moments later the contents of your stomach have been spilled and are now swimming in your toilet water. Your chest is silently heaving as you try to catch your breath. Satisfaction is slowing making its way through your body but it soon disappears as you come to realize what you just did.
A year ago you could never imagine yourself doing this. You considered it a disgusting habit. Although you yourself had been telling yourself you were overweight you still could never even think of purging, it wasn't an option for you. But here you are, doing what you were only a year ago, against. You didn't know that it would consume you, that you would no longer have a choice in the matter. You hadn't realized how addicting this could get, how much you would crave it, how much you would yearn for it.
The toilet bowl had become your best friend. He helps you through your tough times, makes you feel better about yourself. He helps prevent the cringing when you pass by the mirror.
As your weight drops and your self-esteem rises you couldn't feel better. But once you'd reached your goal you still couldn' stop. By that point it had already become a need, an addiction. Plate after plate of calories you just couldn't take that small chance of gaining all that weight back. You stopped for a while, but that little voice in your head kept eating you alive until you couldn't take it anymore. It had only been a week and you could already see the fat coming back so you make a beline for the bathroom. Without a seconds thought you drop to your knees and get rid of it all until your just dry heaving into the toilet. That won't be the last time you see that room from that view, but you think it is...
Weeks pass and you seem fine. You feel amazing, you've kept your figure and you haven't binged. But your self-esteem never stays so high, and you know it. One regular morning after your daily run you feel different. You're not sure what it is but it's clearly there. You think maybe its the lack of breakfast so you decide to make a nice plate of eggs and toast with a glass of orange juice. But once thats all done and finished you still feel off. You accidentaly drop your breakfast dish and it shatters into millions upon millions of little pieces. You gasp shocked at first but you soon get over it. As you lean down to pick up the scattered pieces you notice your bulging stomach. That tight feeling in your chest that you had forgotten all about returns and you can't stop the waterful of tears as they come rolling down your paling cheeks. You are absolutely disgusted with yourself, you feel so ashamed with yourself. You don't know what to do so you sprint for the bathroom, fall to your knees with your fingers already down your throat.
That's when the toilet bowl became your best friend.
From that day forth you get yourself into a regular routine. Everyday you arrive home from your long day of pretending your okay, drop your school bag off in your room and rush to the bathroom. You rid your stomach of lunch before going back to your room and doing your homework.
Here you are a year later, happiness gone along with your weight. And what do you have to say for yourself? You're disappointed but as much as you've tried in the past you can't break free of this spell. You can't, you can't bring yourself to let go of this life threatening addiction. You've started to convince yourself the skinnier you get the better person you become. You repeat in you head over and over that it isn't draining you.
Today is like every other day , but it's also completely different. Today something happened and now instead of feeling that usual self-esteem lift you feel nothing but guilt. You know that girl? The girl you can't stop thinking about? The one you hang out with almost everyday because she's the closest thing to a best friend that you will have? Well she noticed something you failed to.
It's lunch hour, only a few hours before you feel the unbareble guilt. Your eating lunch with your best friend in complete silence. You don't know why but today she's abnormally quiet. But she soon tells you why, she lifts her school bag onto the table and pulls two photos from the bag. She slaps the first one onto the table and points to it. You clear the space in front of you and pick the picture up. A boy, one with the same golden locks as you and a beautiful body. His arms and legs small but muscular. His waist slim and appealing. You wanted to know who this boy that you now idolize is but his face is cut off at the top of the picture. You wish to be him. Then she slaps the next picture onto the table, a boy with the same beautiful hair, you quickly realize its the same boy but something is completely different. His arms are no longer muscular and perfect sized, they are now the size of tooth picks. His legs are the size that his arms used to be, and it scares you that someone could actually be that skinny. This boy is literally the same size as your pinky finger.
"This person is you," your best friend says to you. "Promise me you'll stop. You are beautiful the way you are. I love you for you, not the person you're going to become." And of course with those loving words you promise her.
But you broke that promise. In only a few hours you broke that promise. Guilty is what you are now, guilty for betraying the person you love. She would do anything for you and you couldn't do this one thing for her. You're selfish.
You stand yourself up from your fetal position on the ground and walk over to the mirror. The mirror that not too long ago convinced you you were fat. But now it was telling you the complete opposite. The mirror betrayed you, now look at where you are.
You stand in front of the mirror to find the boy from the picture, match stick arms and all.
In this exact moment you realize you were already at your goal a year ago. You've long ago passed the boundaries of alive.
Because now you're as good as dead.
Vote? Comment?
YOU ARE READING
Behind Closed Doors *Narry*
Fanfiction"It's times like these that I wish I was old enough to grab a pair of shoes, and a thin coat and run away. Run into the night, arms flailing. I would pretend I was flying, or falling and my heart would beat fast and hard against my ribs and I would...
