Coughing, I wipe the bile off my mouth and stare into the mirror. "Disgusting." I pinch the fat on my stomach, my thighs. "Just cut it off."
I pick up the already bloody razor from the sink and draw it lazily down my chest to my stomach. Then, I grip the fat and begin to cut.
My grip splips as I bleed, but the skin and fat comes off until I have a thin layer in my hand about the size of two quarters side by side.
My vision blurs and I grab a towel to hold back the blood. I keep it in my body, but I don't know why.
If I died, I would be weightless.
****** A/N *******
This is just a filler chapter, but bleh. you know you love me. ;)
