Status: Yeah, I got inspired to write more. This is rated R for drug use, some sexual scenes, anorexia and swearing.
Going Under.
Pressure.
"You need to lose more weight if you want to do this," spoke Tracy Van Hall, chewing on the tip of her pen.
"How much weight is 'more weight'?" I asked, crossing my legs. I fiddled with my boney fingers.
"About... Seventeen pounds." Tracy noted, looking at me from behind her horn-rimmed-fifties-styled-silver-glasses.
"That's.. That's too much weight. I don't even think I can manage it," I said, looking down.
"Well, Deliah Vaughn, you won't be able to model for our company anymore." She replied, setting down her clipboard. Sighing, she pushed herself away from the glass table.
"Wait- Tracy.. I changed my mind. I'm sorry for sending you on this roller coaster, I'll be back in next week." I pressed on, excusing my own self from the table. I grabbed my silver slouchy bag and hurried out of the bright, white room. This was going to be a challenge all in it's own, finding the courage to lose that much weight. "You can do it, Deliah. You can do it." I told myself, flipping my blonde hair behind my shoulder. I headed out of the high-rise sky scraper and called for a cab to drive me back to my mom and her boyfriend's apartment.
~~~~
Shoving my bag into the shelf, I climbed onto my bed, pulled out the picture of my father from before he passed away, and stared.
"Daddy, I'm sorry if you don't like this, and if you can hear me just know it'll all work out. I'll be moved out to Paris, France in a year, when I'm twenty. And I'll eventually gain the weight, I swear to you, Daddy." I whispered, tears clouding in my eyes. I kissed the picture, set it back underneath of my pillow, and got up to go sit in the bathtub. Once into the tub, I hugged my knees to my chest and rested my chin on my knees. Was I really that fat?
"How much weight is 'more weight'?" I asked, crossing my legs. I fiddled with my boney fingers.
"About... Seventeen pounds." Tracy noted, looking at me from behind her horn-rimmed-fifties-styled-silver-glasses.
"That's.. That's too much weight. I don't even think I can manage it," I said, looking down.
"Well, Deliah Vaughn, you won't be able to model for our company anymore." She replied, setting down her clipboard. Sighing, she pushed herself away from the glass table.
"Wait- Tracy.. I changed my mind. I'm sorry for sending you on this roller coaster, I'll be back in next week." I pressed on, excusing my own self from the table. I grabbed my silver slouchy bag and hurried out of the bright, white room. This was going to be a challenge all in it's own, finding the courage to lose that much weight. "You can do it, Deliah. You can do it." I told myself, flipping my blonde hair behind my shoulder. I headed out of the high-rise sky scraper and called for a cab to drive me back to my mom and her boyfriend's apartment.
~~~~
Shoving my bag into the shelf, I climbed onto my bed, pulled out the picture of my father from before he passed away, and stared.
"Daddy, I'm sorry if you don't like this, and if you can hear me just know it'll all work out. I'll be moved out to Paris, France in a year, when I'm twenty. And I'll eventually gain the weight, I swear to you, Daddy." I whispered, tears clouding in my eyes. I kissed the picture, set it back underneath of my pillow, and got up to go sit in the bathtub. Once into the tub, I hugged my knees to my chest and rested my chin on my knees. Was I really that fat?
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Yeah, I don't even know. Comment this if you want more. This is out of my element.