Eat
59.9
I wake up.
It is a normal day.
I read a chapter out of my book before throwing the tray of food loitering at the foot of my bed into the trash can across the hall.
I tip-toe to and from the bin with sneaky feet.
The nurse comes bustling in and a beautiful, thin girl strides behind her.
She is exactly who I want to be.
My eyes well with tears, and I am full of envy.
The nurse pulls out the scale, and with it comes pain.
The girl steps on it, and I am called forward to look at it.
One-hundred-and-ten?
She steps back, and this is when I notice we are the exact same height, five feet five inches.
The nurse motions me forward.
I climb on to my best friend and mortal enemy, eyes tight shut.
Fifty-nine-point-nine.
How can she be Ms. America if she weighs so much more than me, when I, who weighs so much less, am still Ms. Thunder-Thighs?
It is a normal day.
I read a chapter out of my book before throwing the tray of food loitering at the foot of my bed into the trash can across the hall.
I tip-toe to and from the bin with sneaky feet.
The nurse comes bustling in and a beautiful, thin girl strides behind her.
She is exactly who I want to be.
My eyes well with tears, and I am full of envy.
The nurse pulls out the scale, and with it comes pain.
The girl steps on it, and I am called forward to look at it.
One-hundred-and-ten?
She steps back, and this is when I notice we are the exact same height, five feet five inches.
The nurse motions me forward.
I climb on to my best friend and mortal enemy, eyes tight shut.
Fifty-nine-point-nine.
How can she be Ms. America if she weighs so much more than me, when I, who weighs so much less, am still Ms. Thunder-Thighs?