She found herself looking in the mirror and admiring her deep and hollow collarbone.
She filled her closet with extra-small size clothes, pressing them against her body,
"How would this look, Ana?" She said with a gigantic smile, you'd think she won the lottery.
"Perfect" replied that little disturbing voice she's heard for the past 10 years.
As she squeezed and squeezed in them, she would gain confidence each day, "I will lose weight".
Along with her loved ones telling her "You look great!"
Of course, the typical, "You're not fat!!!!"
She would laugh and think, "Those stupid morons. What do they know?"
Those words would forever echo in her ill head.
At night she pressed her fingers against her protruding bones, saying to herself, "I'm finally skinny." She said while smiling to herself; her pale, thin face with eye sockets that were as black as her clothes.
"How could someone ever love a monster like me? I don't even love you! I love Ana!"
it became clear that the body-image issues she had been grappling with when she would eat next to nothing and walk for six hours a day to deal with "stress".
She began to gain weight.
But instead of celebrating this sign of improving health, she would say she missed her size 1 jeans.
She would say it and dance with the beautiful melody of how it sounded: "Anorexia. I have Anorexia Nervosa."
It didn't make sense, she thought as she look at her unattractive body, feeling that her loved ones would no longer want her around them.
Why me? Was the next question she would always ask herself, admiring but feeling that stupid pity for herself for becoming this way.
Except, she didn't consider herself to be ill.
She felt gigantic, like a whale.
And of course, those morons would never help.
Comparing herself with others, floating around her almost like dancing puppets.
She'd say "You! I like you! I want to be like you!"
She's say it almost hungrily, with an infuriating rage and gigantic eyes; you would see it in her painfully, ugly face.
"Doesn't she look beautiful?" She asked her loved ones, "Yes, honey. Of course!"
It's almost like asking, "Doesn't she look underweight?"
"Yes, honey. Of course!" They'd say, with their ignorant plastered smiles.
As more weight she lost, the more she felt disgusting.
The morons would say, "I miss your beautiful thighs. Now, I don't think I want them anymore"
They would discard her like if she was a piece of trash.
She would shrug and smile, "I don't care. I have Ana. She loves me, she does. She does" She would say nodding her head up and down furiously, you'd think it would fall to the ground and plaster.
"What happened to fat girls like me?" She'd sometimes say, screaming and kicking.
"Nothing" Ana would say,
"You become nothing"
