One Shots/ Short Stories/ Poems

The Last Time

“They don’t fit,” she whispered under her breath, as she peeled off the size 1 jeans from her legs. Her usual size 4 stood on a hanger in front of her closet, mocking her. “You’re too fat for a size one, too fat. Throw up a little more, maybe they’ll fit then,” it said.

“They don’t fit,” she said again, this time louder.

She walked toward the mirror, not wanting to see her reflection. Slowly, ever so slowly she lifted her head. She was disgusted. ‘Fat,’ she thought. ‘Fat, fat, fat,’ she looked at herself, ‘nothing but fat. That's what you get for eating before trying on your jeans.’

She dragged herself to the bathroom, deciding to do what she always did after a meal, purge. But she didn’t know that this would be the last time.

She reached for the toilet seat, and gave up the remains of what she’d eaten. ‘Goodbye, you won’t be missed…’

She had only taken two steps out of the bathroom before she collapsed onto floor. Her intestine had burst from excessive purging. It would only be a matter of time before she died.

She had called her best friend over a few minutes before, and she was knocking on the door, not knowing what had happened.

“Hello?” No answer. ‘Amy must be in the bedroom since she cant hear me,’ she though.

“Amy? Can you hear me?” No response. ‘Huh, might as well just invite myself in,’ she reached for the black mat in front of the door, picked up a side of it, and moved her hand around until she found a spare key. ‘Its still here,’ she remembered the days Amy forgot her keys and had to use the spare to get in.

She reached for the lock, inserted the key, and waited for a clicking sound. She held the knob and swung the door wide open. She was greeted with an eerie silence. ‘Something isn’t right here. Everything looks right, but it doesn’t feel right.’ She looked at the picture of her and Amy side by side. The caption said ‘Amy and Jessica, summer of 2012’.  In the picture, Amy had a lacy tank top and a lightweight scarf on. ‘For fashion purposes’ she thought, remembering what Amy had said so long ago.

She walked down the hallway and in front of Amy’s bedroom door. Her footsteps echoed as she walked. She pushed the door open to see Amy on the ground. She stood there in pure shock; her mouth in the shape of an “O”. It was like having emotions hurdle at you a thousand miles per hour. She saw the bathroom door open, and knew exactly what happened.

She fell to her knees, and threw herself over her best friends body.

“Amy!” She frantically cried out. “Amy no don’t leave me. Amy please stay. Please, I need you.”

No reply.

“AMY! Amy please. Please tell me this is a joke and you’re alright. Please. Please get up and laugh and taunt me for believing you. Anything Amy, please.” Silence.

She sobbed and looked for the phone. She picked it up with trembling hands, and called the number everyone knew so well; 911. Her voice shaked as she told them what happened.

By the time the ambulance came, she was crying hysterically into the palms of her hands, her legs pulled up close to her chest.

Amy was transported to the hospital, where Jess and Amys parents waited. They waited for what the doctors would say.

“Its too late,” was all they had to say.

Her best friend fell into her chair, thinking this was all her fault. Her parents hugged each other as they cried into each other’s shoulders.

It’s the day of the funeral, and over 300 people came to say their final goodbyes to Amy.

None dared look into anyone’s eyes.

Amy’s tormentors showed up, wondering if they took back their comments about her, she would still be here. Her friends were there, thinking that maybe, just maybe, if they had complemented her in her favorite dress one day, she’d still be here. The girls that tried to push her in front of a car were there, each one with a bouquet of flowers.

One by one, each person placed their flower on top of the casket. There was not one dry eye that day.

Oh yeah, and her best friend? She hasn’t talked to anyone since. And her parents? Her mom and  dad, like her best friend, havent spoken a word.

She will be loved, and remembered.