desserted (brooklyn's story)

five.

six years earlier.

sitting with my friends on the oval,

tanning and giggling in the sun,

the lunch bell had just rang,

and we all sat with our lunch boxes.

i opened it up,

pulling out last night's lasagne,

before gulping it down,

not noticing their lasting glance.

"Um, Brookie? That's a pretty big helping..."

"Yeah Brooke, you sure that wasn't meant for shares."

their comments hadn't made me sad,

just cautious,

i looked at their food,

it looked like that of a rabbits,

i slowly began skipping breakfast,

bringing smaller lunches,

eating half my dinner,

before eventually,

i almost ate nothing at all.

it went on like that for three years,

the grumbles in my stomach,

signs of weakness,

the cries of the dying enemy soldiers,

the fat being drained away.

i knew i wasn't fat,

i was pretty average,

it only became an issue,

when shopping for a graduation dress,

everything was too small,

my mum began obssessing,

weighing me every morning,

every night before bed,

and then force feeding me,

as if it would make a difference.

present day.

"How did that make you feel?"

He asked me carefully.

"Like shit. I mean who wants to be yelled at that they are small enough to disappear without being noticed?"

I mumbled yet again.

"I guess. So since then, what has been your minimum and maximum weight?"

He asked.

"That's easy. On the day of my graduation I was 26 kilograms and my maximum weight would probably be today...34."