"Your sickness feels like home"
-skin and bones: Picture Me Broken
Christmas time. Sweets all around. Temptations left and right. Candies and sweets being presented to me, alluring me to indulge myself with the oh-so naughty foods I have avoided since the start of my downfall.
Rich, fattening chocolate brownies handed to me by unsuspecting friends; vibrant, delectable peppermint candies being given out to and fro.
How could I pass them up?
Evil.
This whole ordeal was evil. This whole day was devised to bring me misery and sadness.
Throwing up is all I could think about.
5 candies later and it still wasn't enough. Even more of the poisonous foods were being given to me. When would the madness end? When would I be allowed a precious moment to excuse myself to the sweet refuge of the bathroom stalls?
My friends were evil, they planned this. They must have. They want to kill me; to prove that all I am is a gluttonous pig.
Maybe I am.
If only they would allow me an escape.
An escape to feel my head pound and water rush to redden my eyes.
An escape for saliva and chunks of vomit to trickle down my chin.
An escape to have my fingers merge with my throat.
An escape to feel pretty.
An escape to purge.
YOU ARE READING
Don't Eat.
Teen FictionDon't eat. I shouldn't. I don't need to. It'll lead me away from perfection and why would I want that? All I have to do is not eat and then I'll be that perfect Barbie that I've always wanted to be. That's not hard to do so why not? What's the worst...
