I can't eat today, I can't eat today, can't eat today.
Put that down, you ate too much yesterday, you can't eat today.
Take another laxative.
You can't eat that.
Chase shut the cabinet, his stomach clenching with hunger. He ate way too many calories yesterday, way too many sweets. He didn't purge any of it, he was too exhausted to.
He did take a few laxatives after, his stomach was beginning to cramp from that.
Chase didn't eat at school, he chewed nearly an entire pack of gum to refrain himself from eating lunch, from asking Winter for food, for getting something from work.
No one was home. His mom was at her parents house with Milo, his dad, Dave, was working, as he always was. Chase had the entire house to himself, the entire kitchen to himself.
You're just dehydrated, you aren't hungry.
You don't need food because you ate so much yesterday, you will survive without it today.
Chase knew if he drank water, he'd feel hungrier and the urges to eat would be stronger.
Just go to sleep for a while. Go to sleep. Hopefully no one will wake you for dinner. Sleep will help burn the calories from yesterday.
Chase left the kitchen, his eyes lingers on the cabinets that held the food he longed for.
He went upstairs, moving slowly. It was like a rubbed band was around him, stretching farther as he went towards his room.
And as the band stretched, he walked slower, nearly snapping back towards the kitchen.
Chase lays in bed, instantly tossing and turning.
Stop moving, then you'll fall asleep. Rememeber that study you read on social media about staying still for 15 minutes will make you sleep?
Pop tarts.
Go to sleep, take melatonin.
Ice cream.
Throw the covers off, it'll make you sleepier.
Pop tarts dipped in ice cream.
"Fuck!" Chase groaned, gripping onto his hair. There was no use, he needed to eat. Just a little. Just a little, sweet snack to satisfy the craving. Just a little.
He's quickly leaves his room, the runner band flew back. The cabinets flew open, he was suddenly grabbing at random things.
No just some cereal, then throw it up so you don't get fat.
Take another laxative.
Maybe some apple sauce? It's sweet, somewhat healthy.
His hands flew to the bread, it was so soft under his hands, he could hug it. Don't eat any bread.
Chase's eyes frantically scanned the cabinets, landing on an unopened box of pop tarts. His mouth watered, imagining the frosted, sprinkled covered tart.
The artificial strawberry jam and the thin crust...
Chase shuddered as he ripped the box open, eager to eat. Eager to just stuff his face. Eager to just feel little joy, he completely forgot about restricting.
He hurriedly rips off the silver, foily wrapper, he almost moans at the sight of the perfect, unbroken pair of pop tarts.
Chase inhales the sugary, fruit scent of the pastry, sinking his teeth into the soft middle. In seconds, the first pop tart was gone, the other filled his mouth.
