The Heavy Life Of An Immobile Teen

Waking Up

The first thing I hear is the chime of my monitor measuring the beat of my heart buried under hundreds of pounds of lard.
My breath heavy despite the oxygen being pumped into my lungs; crushed by my immense frame that keeps me bound in place through my mask.

Sweat dripping down my forehead and rolling between my plump cheeks I go to wipe it but the simple attempt of lifting one of my hanging arms held down by the drooping wings of tender fat makes the chiming of my monitor increase in frequency spiking higher.

"Darling darling are you okay" said mom, rushing into the room. She was a model in her younger years and her physique had not changed, she had jet black ringlets of hair spiralling down her shoulders onto her  porcelain skin her blue eyes like an ocean of beauty.

Alternately the mirror behind her I could see myself, her "pride and joy". My sandy hair tied up as if it got in my face I could not lift my arms to reach it and could barley turn my head as it was held in place by the titanic width of my shoulders and heavy low hanging chins  which swallowed my neck, pressing down and restricting my throat.my belly was also in view, covering my entire lap down to my shins; I dread to think if I was standing how far it would fall. My legs so swollen and large, not being used in so long, to think I'm 17 yet I haven't walked in 5 years...

After a couple of seconds of recovering from the exhaustion of trying to nod managed a laboured "yeah" in between my pants and deep breaths which despite my oxygen machine pushing air into me were still wheezing and weak from the crushing pressure they were under.

"Good" she replied in her song like voice. "I hope you feel up for weighing today. We have a special breakfast ready for afterwards"

I, unable to speak as I still had not recovered from the physical exhaustion of the last attempt at speaking gave a look of agreement.

My bed-scale read out the number and it shocked us both, "2400 lbs" spoke the robotic monotone voice.

Then in came my dad with at-least five trays full of greasy bacon and pancakes. And I knew I was in heaven.