Mirror Mirror Can't You See, What You Show Is Killing Me

99 [Chapter One]

Slowly opening my eyes, I look down. 99, it says. I bite my lip and shake my head. I hate that number. If I can just get to 95, I'll be happy, I know it. Glancing at the clock I jump; Its six fifteen A.M, I only have fifteen minutes to get ready. I grab my baggy charcoal hoodie and yank it on. I step into my black skinny jeans and run a brush through my hair, which is the color of a night-sky and a purple dawn. Carefully applying my dark eyeliner and red lipstick, I finish up. With five minutes to spare I head towards the door. 

"Caia," I cringe as I hear my name, "What about breakfast?" 

"Sorry mum," I call, "I'm going to be late I have to go!" 

I race out the door before my mom can respond. I run to the bus, mostly because it's good exercise. . . Also because I would have been late if I hadn't. I catch my breath as the bus slides to a stop. The creak of the bus doors greet me, and I climb on, sliding into the seat next to my best friend, Amaya. 

"No breakfast, ran to bus," I note with a smile on my face.

"Weight?" Amaya asks

"99," I sigh, "What about you?" 

Amaya makes a disgusted face, "Parents forced me to eat a slice of toast, no butter. 60 calories. Also ran for bus. 97 lbs." 

"Urgh," I moan, "How do you do it?" 

"Relax," Amaya laughs, "I've been at it longer, you'll catch up."

"I hope so," I respond, "I feel so. . ."

"Fat," Amaya finishes, "I know the feeling," she adds, giving me a secret smile. We step off the bus together, facing the mobs of fellow high schoolers. 

 I drift through the day, trying my best not to fall asleep; I was up late last night doing crunches. I cringed as the clock ticked by to twelve o'clock. I hate my classes, but I dreaded lunch even more. Amaya and I always tried to sit together, for moral support. Hurrying through the lunch line and trying not to breathe, I ordered a salad and a water. 

"You have to get more than that sweetie," The lunch lady beamed 

"Ok," I replied in a sing-song tone that matched the lunch lady's, going back for some yogurt. The cafeteria worker begrudgingly let me pay, and take my lunch. I let out a dramatic sigh as I sat next to Amaya,

"Normal people," I muttered, "Have no respect." 

"I know," my friend laughed, "It's like they enjoy being fat," 

"I bet they secretly do," I mischievously whispered, as Amaya laughed along. I smiled and we fell into discussion about Oli, the lead singer of Bring Me The Horizon. We are self-proclaimed addicts. All too soon, lunch was over and it was back to the monotony of classes. As I waved to good-bye, I smiled at how lucky I was to have found a friend like Amaya. One who shared my . . .diet. Because that's all it is, I reminded herself, a diet. Once I'm 95 lbs, I'll stop. The mantra echoed in my head, following me to fifth period english where I banished it. By that time I almost believed it.