Status: revising and reposting. new chapters out every few days.
Dying to be Thin
Ten.
Mom and I have arrived in La La Land.
The City of Angels,
Los Angeles, California,
Home of the greasiest food,
And skinniest girls,
To ever hit the planet.
Also,
Home of my older sister,
Belle.
I drift behind Mom,
While she drones on and on,
About my sister.
She’s so beautiful.
She’s so successful.
She’s so perfect.
She so much better.
Ana slithers across my skull.
My feet are dragging,
The heat rolls over me.
Sizzling fat hits me like a brick wall.
I almost fall,
Stumbling over the drool escaping my mouth.
It’s dizzying,
These delicious horrid smells.
I tune out my mother,
Not even paying attention where I’m going,
As Ana recoils in the back of my mind,
Trying to figure out the caloric content,
Of all of these illicit treats.
My sister meets us at the hotel,
Nearly six hours after we arrive.
Mom has already passed out,
An entire bottle of wine,
Carrying her deep into sleep.
And I’m dead on my feet,
But Belle drags me to dinner,
At the diner across the street.
It’s empty,
Cops are sipping their coffee at the counter,
Wasting away the midnight hour.
And Belle is already ordering.
“One hot chocolate,
One coffee,
And two stacks of chocolate chip pancakes, please.”
She smiles over at me,
That used to be our signature order.
Before I got fat.
The waitress returns not even ten minutes later,
Plunking our food down.
I start cutting my pancakes in half,
And then again,
And again,
And again,
Until each piece is the size of an almond.
Belle eyes me,
And I slip a bite into my mouth.
Cunt.
I gag Ana in the back of my mind,
And force myself to eat,
For Belle’s sake.
We talk about her dorm,
Her acting classes,
Her friends,
And her new boyfriend,
While I pick and push at my food,
Ana counting each bite,
That I force myself to take.
“How are things at home, honey?”
She asks,
Her chocolate eyes probing into my soul,
Truly interested in my answer.
This is the reason
I try to avoid talking to my older sister.
She actually cares.
She actually worries.
She actually listens.
And that makes it harder to lie.
So I take a deep breath,
And decide to tell her the truth.
Maybe,
She can make it all better,
Just like when we were little.
Maybe she’s got a magic Band-Aid,
Hidden somewhere in her knockoff Prada purse.
Maybe she’ll be able,
To kiss away,
All of my problems.
“I think that I might be anorexic.”
I whisper,
Staring at my pancakes,
Smothered in butter and syrup,
Not even a quarter of them eaten.
“This is the first time I’ve actually eaten in a few days.
Or maybe longer.
I kinda lost count.”
Ana breaks free of her gag,
In my moment of weakness.
What the hell are you doing?!
A shudder rips down my spine.
Ana has never sounded this mad before.
You stupid,
Ungrateful,
Fatass,
BITCH!
She flings her insults around my brain,
Claws ripping me to shreds.
Suddenly,
Something warm covers my freezing hand.
I look up,
Melting inside of Belle’s eyes.
They’re scared,
As well as filled with tears.
But,
Overpowering all other emotions,
Is love.
For me.
So,
I ignore Ana,
And focus on Belle instead.
“We’ll get through this, Ads.
I promise.”
And just for a few precious moments,
I allow myself to believe her.
The City of Angels,
Los Angeles, California,
Home of the greasiest food,
And skinniest girls,
To ever hit the planet.
Also,
Home of my older sister,
Belle.
I drift behind Mom,
While she drones on and on,
About my sister.
She’s so beautiful.
She’s so successful.
She’s so perfect.
She so much better.
Ana slithers across my skull.
My feet are dragging,
The heat rolls over me.
Sizzling fat hits me like a brick wall.
I almost fall,
Stumbling over the drool escaping my mouth.
It’s dizzying,
These delicious horrid smells.
I tune out my mother,
Not even paying attention where I’m going,
As Ana recoils in the back of my mind,
Trying to figure out the caloric content,
Of all of these illicit treats.
My sister meets us at the hotel,
Nearly six hours after we arrive.
Mom has already passed out,
An entire bottle of wine,
Carrying her deep into sleep.
And I’m dead on my feet,
But Belle drags me to dinner,
At the diner across the street.
It’s empty,
Cops are sipping their coffee at the counter,
Wasting away the midnight hour.
And Belle is already ordering.
“One hot chocolate,
One coffee,
And two stacks of chocolate chip pancakes, please.”
She smiles over at me,
That used to be our signature order.
Before I got fat.
The waitress returns not even ten minutes later,
Plunking our food down.
I start cutting my pancakes in half,
And then again,
And again,
And again,
Until each piece is the size of an almond.
Belle eyes me,
And I slip a bite into my mouth.
Cunt.
I gag Ana in the back of my mind,
And force myself to eat,
For Belle’s sake.
We talk about her dorm,
Her acting classes,
Her friends,
And her new boyfriend,
While I pick and push at my food,
Ana counting each bite,
That I force myself to take.
“How are things at home, honey?”
She asks,
Her chocolate eyes probing into my soul,
Truly interested in my answer.
This is the reason
I try to avoid talking to my older sister.
She actually cares.
She actually worries.
She actually listens.
And that makes it harder to lie.
So I take a deep breath,
And decide to tell her the truth.
Maybe,
She can make it all better,
Just like when we were little.
Maybe she’s got a magic Band-Aid,
Hidden somewhere in her knockoff Prada purse.
Maybe she’ll be able,
To kiss away,
All of my problems.
“I think that I might be anorexic.”
I whisper,
Staring at my pancakes,
Smothered in butter and syrup,
Not even a quarter of them eaten.
“This is the first time I’ve actually eaten in a few days.
Or maybe longer.
I kinda lost count.”
Ana breaks free of her gag,
In my moment of weakness.
What the hell are you doing?!
A shudder rips down my spine.
Ana has never sounded this mad before.
You stupid,
Ungrateful,
Fatass,
BITCH!
She flings her insults around my brain,
Claws ripping me to shreds.
Suddenly,
Something warm covers my freezing hand.
I look up,
Melting inside of Belle’s eyes.
They’re scared,
As well as filled with tears.
But,
Overpowering all other emotions,
Is love.
For me.
So,
I ignore Ana,
And focus on Belle instead.
“We’ll get through this, Ads.
I promise.”
And just for a few precious moments,
I allow myself to believe her.