A story of a girl with bulimia and finding love that might just be able to help her get through it...
No one knows. No one knows what happens behind this door. No one knows, because the bathroom ventilation blocks the sound. No one knows because the running water helps silent my cries. No one knows how many times I shove two fingers down my throat to throw up my meal. No one knows and no one needs to know.
"I would kill to be skinny," She would always cross her arms and say. So she did what she said, she went killing, but the only person she was killing, was herself. //COMPLETED//