"Why do you do this to yourself? You have everything: a father who loves you, friends, money, activities. I want to know why you threw it all away." Why? You want to know why? Step into a tanning booth and fry yourself for two or three days. After your skin bubbles and peels off, roll in coarse salt, then pull on long underwear woven from spun glass and razor wire. Over that goes your regular clothes, as long as they're tight. Smoke gunpowder and go to school to jump through hoops, sit up and beg, and roll over on command. Listen to the whispers that curl into your head at night, calling you ugly and fat and stupid and bitch and whore and worst of all "a disappointment." Puke and starve and cut and drink because you don't want to feel any of this. Puke and starve and cut and drink because you need an anesthetic and it works. For a while. But then the anesthetic turns into poison and by then it's too late because you're mainlining it now, straight into your soul. It is rotting you and you can't stop. Look in the mirror and find a ghost. hear every heartbeat scream that everysinglething is wrong with you. "Why?" is the wrong question. Ask "Why not?" **TRIGGER WARNING** This story contains the main character self harming herself, starving herself/anorexia, blood, depression, and dark thoughts.

Hattie isn't anorexic... at least she thinks she isn't. That is until Cole comes along and points out the error in her ways. Can Cole save Hattie before her time runs out or will she just become a skinny love lost right before this bad boy's eyes?

Just the normal life of a teenager girl secretly struggling with an eating disorder.

je viens des enfers, mais elle m'a convertie au paradis / with jb (terminée)

We ride or die together, Ana.

« Comment se prénomme t'elle ? - Maywenn Crees. - Pourquoi est t'elle là ? - Décrétée anorexique.»

-Meuf t'as trop d'bourrelets tu d'vrais perdre du poids ahah. -Ouais t'as vu comme t'es grosse! -Gros jambon. Jenna Scotts et Ana.

et sur la table, ce gâteau qui criait «mange-moi» mais rose, ce n'était pas alice rose, elle ne l'a pas mangé

Je ne suis pas une maladie chérie, je suis toi-même.