story of an imperfect nymph

"Clara, is that you, sweetie?" my dad called to me when I got home. "Would you like some supper hun?" "No dad, I ate on the way home. I have a paper I need to work on, so don't bother me." Of course, I wasn't really going to do that paper. It wasn't as important as making sure I burned off all the calories I had eaten that day. As I was doing my exercises, my father knocked on the door, "Clara, can I come in?" "No, dad. I'm getting ready to hop in the shower." "oh, well, your mom called, shes not going to be home tonight, she has to work late" Even he seemed to doubt the words as they were coming out of his mouth. We all knew my mom was having an affair, and that she had had multiple affairs with men and women before that. "Whatever dad. I don't buy it for a second" the thought of her kissing another man made me mad enough to pick back up the blade: a nasty addiction that I thought I had rid myself of, but the urges were always there and now I had 3 thin yet deep lines on my hip to prove it.
In the shower, when the soap got in my cuts, it hurt. It felt wonderful. I had missed that feeling so much : the daring, the terrifying, the adrenaline of nearly getting caught doing it in public restrooms or store dressing rooms. It was a part of me, just like my eating disorder, it was never going away completely. Wrapped in a fluffy towel and walking back into my room, I caught a glance of myself in the full length mirror. My hip bones were so clearly defined. It is a euphoria I cannot describe, seeing bones. After that I went to bed and fell into a dream full of sugar plum fairies and nutcrackers.