Status: revising and reposting. new chapters out every few days.
Dying to be Thin
Thirteen.
Dad asks me what I want for dinner.
Ana eyes my bowl of cereal from earlier,
She snarls in disgust.
Too weak to resist,
I allow her to answer for me.
“Nothing.
I’m not hungry.”
Dad eyes me suspiciously.
I stare back at him,
Face void of emotion,
Until he turns around.
“I want pizza!”
Kaleb calls from his bedroom,
Only just managing to be heard,
Over the sound of his blaring radio,
And some other killing game.
Dad smiles,
His gaze zeroing in on my face.
“You’ll eat pizza, right, Ads?”
His voice is too innocent,
Making him sound malicious.
Chills sneak across my spine.
I force my expression to remain blank,
Not bothering to turn away from the TV,
In order to meet his gaze.
My stomach is begging for anything,
And pizza has just hit its number one desire.
Pizza is nothing but carbs,
And bread makes you fat.
Ana seethes from the back of my mind.
Her lack of volume terrifies me,
It’s always quiet before the storm.
My head starts to throb.
Without warning,
Ana decides to answer his question.
“No, I won’t eat pizza!
Do you know how many calories,
Are in a slice of pizza?”
I flinch.
Ana’s answers never produce a positive outcome,
At least for me.
It was a rhetorical question,
But Dad acts as if he is going to answer.
“230 calories!
No way am I eating pizza.”
I am no longer in charge of my mouth.
Ana is too powerful for me.
I watch Dad’s expression turn bitter,
And bite my cheek in anticipation,
Of the fight that is sure to come.
Ana always knows,
Just the right buttons to push,
In order to set him off.
Ana sneaks back into the corners of my mind,
Leaving me alone to defend her actions.
I can tell Dad is just begging for a good battle,
We tend to be evenly matched,
But I don’t have it in me.
“Really, Dad, I’m not hungry.
You and Kaleb eat,
I’m fine.”
I tell him,
Letting fake sincerity color my voice.
Apparently,
Dad buys it.
These days,
All it takes is a simple expression of emotion,
To get him off my back,
And remind him that I’m not dead.
Yet.
He gets up to make Kaleb’s dinner,
But not before telling me one last thing:
“You don’t need to watch your calories, Ads.
You’re not fat.”
That’s what you think.
Ana responds,
Her pointy fingers,
Pinching at the fat,
Encasing my thighs and stomach.
Ana eyes my bowl of cereal from earlier,
She snarls in disgust.
Too weak to resist,
I allow her to answer for me.
“Nothing.
I’m not hungry.”
Dad eyes me suspiciously.
I stare back at him,
Face void of emotion,
Until he turns around.
“I want pizza!”
Kaleb calls from his bedroom,
Only just managing to be heard,
Over the sound of his blaring radio,
And some other killing game.
Dad smiles,
His gaze zeroing in on my face.
“You’ll eat pizza, right, Ads?”
His voice is too innocent,
Making him sound malicious.
Chills sneak across my spine.
I force my expression to remain blank,
Not bothering to turn away from the TV,
In order to meet his gaze.
My stomach is begging for anything,
And pizza has just hit its number one desire.
Pizza is nothing but carbs,
And bread makes you fat.
Ana seethes from the back of my mind.
Her lack of volume terrifies me,
It’s always quiet before the storm.
My head starts to throb.
Without warning,
Ana decides to answer his question.
“No, I won’t eat pizza!
Do you know how many calories,
Are in a slice of pizza?”
I flinch.
Ana’s answers never produce a positive outcome,
At least for me.
It was a rhetorical question,
But Dad acts as if he is going to answer.
“230 calories!
No way am I eating pizza.”
I am no longer in charge of my mouth.
Ana is too powerful for me.
I watch Dad’s expression turn bitter,
And bite my cheek in anticipation,
Of the fight that is sure to come.
Ana always knows,
Just the right buttons to push,
In order to set him off.
Ana sneaks back into the corners of my mind,
Leaving me alone to defend her actions.
I can tell Dad is just begging for a good battle,
We tend to be evenly matched,
But I don’t have it in me.
“Really, Dad, I’m not hungry.
You and Kaleb eat,
I’m fine.”
I tell him,
Letting fake sincerity color my voice.
Apparently,
Dad buys it.
These days,
All it takes is a simple expression of emotion,
To get him off my back,
And remind him that I’m not dead.
Yet.
He gets up to make Kaleb’s dinner,
But not before telling me one last thing:
“You don’t need to watch your calories, Ads.
You’re not fat.”
That’s what you think.
Ana responds,
Her pointy fingers,
Pinching at the fat,
Encasing my thighs and stomach.