This book contains the following;
Binging and/or purging/bulimia, detailed scenes of binging and/or purging, sweets/candies (it can be triggering to some), starving/restricting, self harm, detailed scenes about cutting, moodiness/depression, anxiety/ symptoms, and eating disorders/ mental disorders- including symptoms.
Also, I'm saying this once and once only. I will delete the comment or yell at you if you do.
PLEASE DO NOT COMMENT YOUR WEIGHT (numbers)! IT IS SO FUCKING TRIGGERING TO SOME OTHERS AND ME!
I know this is a triggering book (obviously), but I can not handle people talking about weight and such. I don't think I'll be adding numbers of weight in here, but if I do, DO NOT COMMENT YOUR OWN!
I will delete any comments with it, but if the same person does it a lot, I will call you out, I wont hesitate. 🖤
Just please do not state your weight and it'll be all good.
Also- I am not trying to glamorize eating disorders. It may seem like it because I'm glamorizing sugary foods and all but... I swear, I'm not trying to glamorize the disorder itself.
Chase shoved another bite of cinnamon roll into his mouth, the sweet, warm frosting smearing on the creases of his mouth. His taste buds tingled at the sugar.
He took another bite of the treat, grabbing another right after. He had an entire pan to polish off, he was nearly done.
Chase's teeth ached, icing tickles his throat. Between bites, he sips on ovarly chocolatey chocolate milk. It seemed like he put half the bottle it.
He loves the combination of cinnamon and sugar, it was his favorite. He could eat an entire box of Cinnamon Toast Crunch in one sitting, he has.
Chase's fingers were coated with the sticky frosting and the pastry. He licks his fingers, grabbing another roll.
He's must've eaten 10 already, he made 16, two whole cans of Pillsbury's cinnamon rolls. Chase knew his parents would kill them if they saw him right now, shoving sweets down his throat.
But he couldn't help it, sugar was so addicting. Especially cinnamon and sugar.
It didn't take long for the boy to finish the rest of the pan, including his chocolate milk. His stomach felt crammed and achy, he knew what he had to do.
Chase's stomach ached as he walked up stairs, to his bathroom. The rolls and milk was already rising in his throat.
Soon, he was hunched over the toilet, fingers in his throat, the toilet was filling with brown liquid.
The sweet bread would clog in his throat, Chase would gag and choke before the lump was in the toilet. The water splashed, almost hitting his warm face.
His chest ached, it felt like the pastry was ripping it, he could hardly breathe. But he didn't stop, he shoved his saliva covered fingers further down.
Chase's stomach slowly but surely emptied into the toilet, which contained chunks of soggy bread and brown milk.
With a shakey breath, he flushed the toilet. He watches as everything spun and disappeared, the bowl filled with clear water.
Chase leaned against the wall, wrapping his arms around his stomach. He knew he shouldn't have eaten so many rolls and drank so little. He knew bread hurt coming up.
