147.9. One-hundred and forty-seven point nine pounds. That. Is. A. Lot. Of. Pounds. For a 5-foot-seven girl, a little over normal. I was underweight at my last doctor appointment. Dad must've noticed my weight gain. I gawked at the scale below my feet. Normal? No. I was skinny. Lean.
See, fat. I told you. Go on a diet. Just lose a few pounds.
The voice appeared again. I guess just a few. I'll aim for 145.0.
Eat right and exercise, that's all you have to do. Find a balance.
Okay, that didn't seem to hard. I opted for one bowl of cereal rather than two at breakfast. Something caught my eye that I hadn't ever paid attention to. The nutrition facts.
"Just a peek," I told myself.
1/2 Cup of Cereal: 110 Calories
I never knew such little food was so many calories. I looked at my bowl.
There must be at least 1.5 cups in there. One more bite then throw it away. 147.9. I listened to the voice. I took one more bite. I was hungry. Maybe just one more. One more bite leads to one more pound and before you know it you're fat again. I listened yet again. There was something so compelling about this voice; something I couldn't turn down. I wondered if other people had the same voice. Google it, doofus. I did. I came across a website called myproana.com. people taking about some girl named Ana who tells them to lose weight.
"Damn," I thought, "Ana's a bitch."
Never think about me like that. I'm your friend, Taylor.
YOU ARE READING
I Eat Numbers
Ficțiune adolescențiTaylor wants nothing less than perfection. Bones.
