Skinny
- Reads 138
- Votes 1
- Parts 3
Ongoing7m
Last published Wed, Oct 30, 2013
I took a deep breath before I got on it. I held onto the wall supporting myself on it before I dropped my gaze to look at the numbers. 156. I looked back up. Staring at the mirror in front of me, my reflection highlighted everything I hated about myself. Thighs. Stomach. Arms. That was the day I made a promise. I made a promise to myself that no matter what it took, that number would drop. And boy did it drop. It dropped down to a number even my doctors thought shouldn't be enough to support a life. The further I got on my journey the more my satisfaction increased and I thought I was fixed because my weight was, but I became broken Hi, my name is Joyce and I am an anorexic/bulimic. This is the story of me.
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When I was little I never thought this would happen. I never thought I would be here but here I am with tattoo number on my arm. I can't escape, I can't see them again, I'm here, and nobody will save me or the people I am with. There are many of us, I can't even tell you how many people are here but I know it's past the thousand mark. We are here because of one thing, we are different. In their eyes different is bad. I guess it is, well it seems like it is but it's really not. See this one guy had this plan. This plan was to destroy a group of people who didn't believe in what he believed. He put it in people's mind that these people were not even human just animals and that we needed to be taught a lesson. Because we were different that was the problem. My name is Holly Amelia Cohen and this is my story. This story is now publish and you can buy it if you want (http://www.amazon.com/dp/1494393867/ref=cm_sw_r_tw_dp_xP-Psb0ES7QX416T )
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