story by @princesswherpen
short story
~
Glancing up I see the busy cafeteria. People laughing with each other, deep into conversation, stuffing their own faces into food that the grease drips down onto the dirty napkins from the last person that once sat there.
In the corner, people starting arguments on who got the last calorie filled double chocolate brownie or the last piece of freshly baked pizza. The gooey cheese dripping from the ends, making me feel all nauseous inside. I scratch the back of my neck, taking a quick glance at my friends that surround me. I count the endless food on their trays; chicken mayo sandwich, large slushy, fresh brownie and a side salad, which was abandoned for a jumbo chewy chocolate bar, each.
I look down, once again; filling my head full of thoughts to preoccupy me from eating. A single 90 calorie chewy granola bar was placed in my hand, a single bite gone, and I close the wrapper.
Sliding my chair back, it creaks. Everybody's eyes on me. Biting my lip and tasting blood I walk over to the trash can in the corner. On my way I feel many cold eyes staring at me. My breath hitches and I squeeze my hands tightly together so my knuckles turn pure white. Looking down I notice my skinny legs. My hip bones jetted out from my body, like they were trying to escape. Stomach so flat it concaved by just a bit. My collar bones jetted out to, like a skeleton. I've always wanted to be skinny, I never thought I would be judged so much.
I may be skinny, but I like it this way.
~
That was a year ago. Now I stand, looking in front of me to see a dozen girls all stare back at me, jaws dropped, tear filled eyes, and tear streaked faces. I've told that story hundreds of times, same story, same reactions.
Working in an eating disorder rehab clinic, as a volunteer isn't a walk in the park. Helping girls gain back all confidence they lost, become healthy again, helping them recover. And most of all, accepting yourself.
"I'm Lola and I was diagnosed with anorexia nervosa when I was the age of 14. I recovered at 16, but lost 30 pounds due to the disorder. I'm here to tell you there's hope in everything, even gaining back weight and still looking beautiful." I confidently smile.
A single girl raised her hand. This girl was skinnier than I ever was, a walking skeleton. Her blonde dull hair, fried and dead, probably due to not eating right. Dull grey eyes stared hard at me; me looking back but seeing a blank wall instead of life. Dark grey bags follow. I picked her noticing the smallness of her body. She stood up.
"I'm Mary Duncan. I am 15 years old, and was diagnosed when I was 14. When I was the age of 13, I was overweight, by almost 15 pounds. I hated myself, I gained 150 pounds back then and now I weigh just under 120." Mary scratched her scalp, hands shaking. Then she looked up at me, a smirk across her face, one of which was coming out an insult.
"Lola? Why are you so happy? You got to be perfect, to just throw it all away and become fat again?" The bitterness of her voice made the hairs on my arm stand up, almost on command. I bite my lip, not knowing how to respond.
All day that question haunted me. The words kept repeating over and over in my head. "Fat. You're so fat Lola." My brain was on repeat. Tears are running down my face, flowing out of me. The food in my stomach followed. Ran to the bathroom, full force to throw up everything in my stomach. I can't let a question from a girl hurt me so badly, but it does.
