I stare at the mirror.
I hate it, I hate how my cheeks make the rest of my face look swollen.
I hate how my legs can't even make a tiny gap.
I hate how my stomach isn't flat and I can't see my abs.
I hate how my arms sag and droop awkwardly.
I hate how I always instinctively slouch.
I hate how I don't have muscles like the rest of my team.
I hate it all.
I turn away, sitting opposite of the mirror. It's terrorizing, the voices coming at me one after the other.
Wimp
Picky
Obsessive
Weak
Lame
Pathetic
Fatfatfatfatfatfatfatfat
F a t
I hate it.
• • •
I stay in my room at breakfast.
The taste of salt lingers in my mouth.
My hair sticks to my forehead, and I sit up.
I hate it.
• • •
I get out of my room at lunch time.
Click. Click. Click.
The halls echo with the sound of my feet alone.
It's suffocating.
I sit down. It's quiet. Hunk finishes helping Coran with food, and passes it to everyone.
Allura comes to sit down last.
I make up a pickup line I don't remember.
They groan and I smile, the obvious emptiness hiding behind it.
I feel sick.
I pick at the food.
I'm really hungry.
But I get up instead and get water.
I do it again.
I'm not a hungry anymore.
I take a bite after pushing it all to the edge. It's gross.
I leave the table hungry after putting away my plate.
• • •
I must've eaten at least 100 calories.
My head is spinning.
40 jumping jacks.
20 crunches.
25 squats.
10 push-ups.
I do it again 3 times.
I feel sick,
But not hungry.
I turn to the mirror.
I'm still the same.
Fatfatfatfatfatfatfat.
I do it again and again.
A/N: Hey guys! Quick update, I'm still working on part 3. Just felt like reflecting a lil. Don't do this at home please!
