Wrists (complete)

Part 1

I leave the restaurant as it closes, cursing myself.

Stupid, stupid.

I ate so much food I'm physically sick now. I knew what I was doing. I could feel my stomach being stretched, but I couldn't stop. My greasy hands kept grabbing, dipping, shoving the fries into my mouth. I'm not even sure I like fries anymore, but it doesn't matter. Once the compulsion hits, I'm helpless.

I'm so full I waddle out onto the sidewalk now... not that I ever walk in a way that's not waddling. I stare at the ground, trying not to make eye contact. I hope I don't see anyone I know. My baggy black hoodie (you don't even know what I went through to find a size large enough to be baggy on me) is already clinging to me with a light coating of sweat. The early September night is doing nothing to cool me off. Every the weather gets hotter and fall takes longer to arrive.

Either that, or I'm getting fatter.

I speed up my gait as much as I can. I can feel eyes on me. There were still people in the restaurant paying up when I left, and they're probably behind me now. Not anyone I've ever spoken to before, but other customers I've seen before. No one stares at me when I eat, but I know they're paying attention. Maybe they're judging me, maybe they're silently screaming at me how disgusting I am, or worse. Maybe they're genuinely, lovingly, pitying me.

I reach my car. What a relief. It's not much to look at in the washed out parking lot lighting, but it's mine. The ugly, painful waddle is over. I can ride in the comfort of air conditioning and privacy all the way home. As I search for my keys a thought passes through my head.

I'll just start buying frozen french fries, then I can eat them at home. I'll still hate myself, but at least strangers will have to watch me.

Yeah, that's what I'll do! I rummage for my keys, my hands starting to shake with the anticipation of it. In fact, I'll stop by the store on the way home and pick up a few bags, that way I can have them for breakfast! Why haven't I thought of this before? It's perfect! Can my mom even make fries? Well, whatever, it can't be hard. I'll stop by the big supermarket, the one that's open late. I'll need, what, two bags? I'll just go ahead and get six. Then that will be the whole day ready to go. I imagine loading up my cart in victory, wheeling it through the bright fluorescent lighting which shows the sweat stains on my back and the look on the cashier's face as I put bag after bag on the belt.

I drop my purse.

"Shit!" I scream aloud. You have no idea how difficult it is for me to bend over and pick up things, how strong you have to be to balance and lift so much weight.

A sob escapes me and fades into the empty parking lot. Another one follows. I don't care how pathetic and disgusting I look anymore.

Is this my life now? Forever?

I can't... I can't. I can't be like this anymore. And I can't change. If this is the way my life has to be... maybe I don't want it anymore.

The silence of the night grows huge, endless. All the other noises of the town fade completely. The eyes I've felt on me since I left the parking lot get more and more intense, an ice cold knife in my back.

I feel a wind from behind and suddenly hands have wrapped around my shoulders, digging their needle claws into my chest. All my breath is pushed out by their grip and I'm being pulled backwards. The funny thing is, I don't fight.

I don't make a sound.
I'm lifted off my feet and I sail into the dark corner, the alley that doesn't connect to anything. My body is slammed against the brick wall so hard I see stars. Something taller than me, but wraith thin, is holding me there.

I can barely see it, except the outline of shaggy hair, and impossibly large eyes in hollow sockets. Maybe I have a concussion, but in the low, glinting light, I swear the pupils are... not normal.

The eyes stare at me, and it starts to open its huge, terrible mouth.

I want to laugh. Is this what a french fry feels like?

The head whips down and crashes onto my neck.

FuckFuckFuck! The shredding pain rips into me. My eyes pop open and I suck in air to scream.

Then... nothing.

___

Raprap on the door.

"What?" I yell, head half buried in the pillow.

"If you want to have time to eat, get up NOW!"

I groan.

I thought turning 18 and going to college would make me an adult, but apparently my mother doesn't agree. She monitors my schedule and bugs me about homework as much as she did when I was in high school.

I'm never going to be free, am I?

Food sounds nice though, or does it? I'm not even hungry. Which is weird. Huh. I wonder what she cooked? I run through options in my mind, but none of them sound appealing. What about fries? Oh yeah, I was going to buy fries last...

"Shit!" I try to feel my neck, but my second, third and fourth chins are getting in the way. I fling off the covers and stumble into the bathroom. I usually have a towel hung over the full-length mirror so I don't have to look at how my body doesn't even fit in the frame, but I yank it off and start pawing at my neck. I manage to get my flesh out of the way and expose my throat.

There IS a mark. It's not as big as how massive the thing's mouth seemed, but it's there. Sharp puncture marks like an animal's teeth would leave, but in an arch the size of a human mouth.I drop my hand and face my refection, but I don't really see it.

It's real. It really happened. How... how is this possible? What was that thing? And how did I get back here? What happened? Should I show this to Mom?

BANG! An even louder knock.

"Nin! I mean it! Get out here now!"

Nope, definitely not telling Mom.

"Coming!" I manage to croak out. At least my voice still works.

My forehead thumps onto the mirror. Here I am, something has FINALLY happened to me, my life finally has something worth paying attention to, and I have to think about how to make my mom happy. God, how am I going to do this? She gets so pissed if I don't eat second and third helpings, and the thought of food is literally repulsive. I open my eyes and straighten up.

No, I can do this. I finally have something else, too. Something no one can take away from me.

I have a secret.

I glance down and realize I've been standing on the scale this whole time. The green numbers blink up at me.

Huh... I've lost two pounds since yesterday.