Sick Little Games [Chapter 25]

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I've always sort of thought of ana as a crystal skeleton. All sparkling lights so no one notices how messed up she is. She drags her glass-shard fingers over the depths of my mind, dragging every regret from the cemeteries I buried them in. She grabs at my wrist, drawing blood, and a plan for my ultimate perfection. 

Perfection that leaves me as see-through as she is. As easily breakable. As skinny. But no matter what I do, I never reach perfection.  

90
5 more pounds to better

85
5 more pounds to lovable
80
5 more pounds to being accepted
75
5 more pounds to perfect

Perfect.
 

Maybe one day I can be a crystal skeleton. No,  I'll be made of silver. Silver doesn't shatter as easily.

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