Lonely Monsters

three

My finger tips, that had been soft and round with pudge and proper manicuring, were black with what looked like necrosis. Oh god, the ends of my finger no longer hand nails, but large claws that looked like they belong on a condor instead of a person. I turned from the mirror, a pair of silver eyes haunting me as I stared at my claws. I pressed them into my hips and found they didn't pierce my flesh. 

".....I....need a shower." I shook like a leaf as I climbed into the tub. I took out a wide tooth comb, and went to work on my hair. I sat in the tub, and choked back another cry when I saw my feet were in the same condition. Stress quickly piled on when I washed my hair, and large sections started coming out. After some point, I realised I was asleep for.... longer than I had ever been. My clothes smelled rank, and my skin needed a scrubbing. My hair was long and it took some time to get all the loose ones out. I was turning into whatever Jared Hearn was. 

I ran my tongue over my teeth and found a set of canines that protruded past the line of the rest of my teeth. I ran my hands over my stomach and thighs, and cried. I had lost so much weight, and found what was left was skin and bones. There was some muscle, but from the inactivity and sickness, they were soft and stringy. 

I was turning into something, that didn't even resemble who I was when I left work on Friday. I sat in the shower, trying to wash up but I was so gross it took multiple times for the shampoo to even foam. 

Lethargy was leaving my limbs and I was wide awake, scrubbing roughly at my scalp. 

"...I need to change my sheets...and wash everything." I mumbled, running my fingers through my hair repeatedly to get shampoo on every strand. These were some goddamn noticeable shanges to my body. These were not my fingers and toes. This was not my stomach or thighs. I must have sat and scrubbed in the tub for close to an hour and a half. All I know was when I was finished, there was no more hot water. 

I wrapped up in a towel, and tried to be stealthy back to my room. It was almost dawn and no one had bothered me? I walked and checked out the rooms. I found the calender/white board with a note in red and orange marker.

I saw that my mom had work from 7pm to 7am from the orange on the days of the calender. The red was a note to me, saying how Monique was at Aubrey's house and Keenan was with Ty. So. They left me home alone.

".....oh." I stared at the board, and didn't know if I should have felt relieved that I didn't wake anyone up with my crying.... or angry that they had left me as sick as I was. "....gotta change my sheets." 

And I did. I pulled the pillow cases off, top and fitted sheets, and any thin blankets went in a load with lemon soap and softener. The quilt and down comforter would go in the next load. Everything smelled stale and sweaty. After that, I used some water and a mixture of baking soda and dish soap to wipe down my bed so that didn't smell either. 

I didn't shit or vommit on my bed. That was a plus.

After all that cleaning, I somehow ended up in Monique's room, dressed in a dark hoody and some white shorts. I hadn't been able to fit either since junior high, when I was more of a medium than a large. Monique's room was the only one with full length mirrors, and I sincerely needed to see all of me. 

Before, I was a big girl. I was fat, I had a tummy and a big butt, thick thighs and round cheeks. I liked being big, and I had been big for as long as I could recall. I probably wasn't even big back then-- I just wasn't thin like my cousins, or my mother when she was young. 

I was a 38-DD, with 40 inch hips and my waist was between 36 and 38. Now.... I wasn't.

My breasts retained some of their filling, but the area around my chest and stomach severely lacked my pudge. My arms weren't as thick as they used to be, and my calves were slender like I was an olympic cyclist. Compared to the rest of me, my rear and thighs still looked big.