"Okay tori, it's just one little step, it's not going to kill you" I try and reassure myself, but no matter what I say my heart Is still thumping 100mph, it's so loud I can hear the blood rushing through my ears. I clutch my sweaty hands into fists and step onto the little metal box. I close my tired eyes, I hear the quiet beep of my number setting. I open my eyes and force myself to look down. 101lbs. No! I was 99 before the party, was the food worth 2 extra lbs of fat on my body? Of course it wasn't. I've fucked up, I fucked up bad. I wipe the angry tears from my eyes and storm out of my ensuite. I grab my running clothes and pull on my trainers. I rush out the front door, do a couple of stretches before I leg it down the road. I don't stop to put my earphones in, I just run and put them
in at the same time. I can't stop. I keep running, my breathing automatically falls into a pattern with my steps. I keep going even as the muscles in my legs ache with pain, I can't stop. I run and run and run. I can feel myself becoming slightly dehydrated. I don't stop for water. I just keep going. I pass the familiar set of trees that I know are the 5 mile point on this run. I stop. I rest on the tree and catch my breath before turning in the other direction and running back the way I came.
When I reach my front door I smile to myself. I've just done a 10 mile run. I look at my watch and realise it's only just 7 in the morning. I smirk to myself as I climb the stairs up to my room. My legs throb with every little movement, the walk feels like an entirety. I don't even change out of my running clothes, I just flop onto my bed and pull my duvet over me. And fall into the darkness called sleep.
The beeping of my alarm clock pulls me out of sleep. At first I struggle to work out why it's beebing. After all it's the weekend. Oh shit. I have work. Ugh, I pull myself out of my bed and get on with the dreadful tasks of dressing myself. I pull on a random pair of ripped jeans and a cute top. I leave my hair down, the brown curls cascading down my back. I dap on some make-up, I try not to spend too much time looking in the mirror. That is never a fun experience. I pull on some black pumps and then rush down the stairs to the kitchen. I smile at my mother as I grab a cereal bar from the cupboard. I look up to the clock as I open the calorie filled bar.
"I gotta go mum" I say, she smiles and says something in response. I shove a huge bite of the bar in my mouth as I leave so she sees me eat. As soon as I shut the door I spit out the disgusting mush. I shove the bar into the wheelie bin and take the small walk to the charity shop were my mother forces me to work. I pop into a small store on the way and get a diet coke. I'm gonna need some energy from today. I walk into the shop through the front door and smile at sarah who's stood behind the till. She's the assistant manager. I go through the small walkway to the store room of the shop and sign myself in. "Where's Rachel?' I ask curiously, I never usually work with sarah.
"She's in hospital, sprained her ankle or something, won't be back for 2 weeks so your stuck with me!" She laughs, I mentally jot down the date. As I work I decide that I have to be Rachel-size or smaller by the time she comes back. I want to be 90lbs by the time I next see her in 2 weeks. I will be thin by then.
