The Girl Behind The Lens | S.M. (Discontinued)

Part 32- Moments pt.1

"I know he's just not right for you..."

- Shawn Mendes, "Treat You Better"
~~~

My heart is racing as I press my cold hands against the steering wheel, making it almost impossible for the blood to reach my fingers. I was parked in front of the entrance of the warehouse, that haunted place.

Inside my head, the good side of me was battling the evil side, deciding if I should go in or not. But we all know that the easiest way can sometimes be the wrong one. But as always, I don't take my own advice. I open the car door and slowly walk, my shoes shaking the pebbles all over the ground.

Chills covered my entire body as I walked every second closer to the back side, passing all the merchandise for distribution.

In one of the offices, the ugliest-looking one, was a simple grey desk with Joseph behind it, writing some information on a paper. I took one last deep breath and said:

"Hey. Long time, no see" I said and when he looked up, he frowned.

"I hoped you never came back" he whispers.

"Me too" I whispered back. Silence took over.

He went back to his normal voice, clearing his throat, and said:

"You order isn't until tomorrow"

"Yeah but I know it's already supposed to be here. I am not dumb" I said as the head boss passed beside us, heading into his office on the second floor.

"You sure? I thought you were finally okay" he responded with a caring tone in his voice when the boss was out of sight.

Joseph has been my "supplier" for some time back when I first developed my eating disorder. It's not drugs or anything of that sort.

In the warehouse, one of the merchandises given out is loads of boxes full of appetite suppressants used by models and some wealthy families. When they found that out, they started selling some from the side, where I fell down this endless hole of popping one pill when it's was time for lunch and dinner, and lying I was late for school when it was time for breakfast.

I hid them very well, and no one found out. Until it got worse. I started not sleeping at all and just looked at the ceiling for endless hours with what I thought was insomnia. I had nausea every time someone passed food in front of me. I got these epic headaches that would keep my in a low battery mode all day. All of them side effects from those goddamn pills.

But here I am, ready to pass through that horrible process again.

"You said it, was okay" I said when he pulled out the small box that had my name on it. I grabbed it but before I could just turn around, he placed a hand on top of it and gave me these sad eyes.

"I don't want to see you go through this again, I actually think you have a chance" he said and I scoffed.

Then I chuckled, earning a weird look from his side.

"My eating disorder is a mental illness, not a lifestyle choice. There's nothing I can do" I said and snatched the box away from him, walking away into the car.

Inside I didn't bother to analyze what a cruel mistake I had done, instead I turned up the radio and drove down the highway, windows down.

"You can pretend you don't miss me...you can pretend you don't care..." I sang, feeling the lyrics down to my core.

It made me ask myself...Why did I have to get the fucked up life?

One day I can be pleased with how my body looks in the mirror but the next I can feel so fat that I punish myself for it. Sometimes I punch myself in the stomach purposely and kill myself doing exercises. I place my fingers around my wrist and just wish they touched on the other end. I weight myself everyday and write it down in a notebook. I even have skipped meals so many times in my life and no one notices, because they are fed up with talking about their own lives. I don't blame them because if I had an amazing life, I would brag about it too.