Do You Know Your Enemy, Darling?

I walked out of the bathroom, throwing the extra shirts back to my bed. I was tired of stuffing my clothes. And it wouldn't matter since I was wearing a skirt and my legs were exposed. I felt self-concious since they were basically sticks. I could wrap my fingers around my thighs and still have extra space.

And to make it worse, you could see my ribs through my shirt. Not just a little, but a lot. I looked like I was a skeleton.

I walked into the living room, where everyone was. Joe looked up, his facial expression turning to pure horror.

"Dillon!" Zoey squeaked as I swayed a little from dizzyness. "What happened?!"

I caught myself before I fell and smirked. "Let's play a game." I said, a twisted laugh following.

"What kinda game?" Skylar asked, uneasy. I felt my body sway more.

"How much does Dillon weigh? Take a guess! Get it wrong and get a surprise." I smirked. Tom grinned.

"125!" He guessed. I raised my hand.

"Wrooong!" I sang, and shoved my finger down my throat. I felt everything rise up and fall out of my mouth. Zoey jumped.

"Dillon, stop it!" She shouted. I wiped my mouth and smirked.

"Guess again. If you get it right, I'll stop!"

"110?" Tom tried again. I stuck my finger back in my mouth and emptied whatever had been left in my stomach.

"Lower!" I shouted. I could see Joe's eyes starting to water.

"95?" Jackson asked quietly. I repeated myself for the third time, making the mess even worse.

"Why do you all think I'm fat?!" I screamed, starting to cry. "Keep guessing!" I yelled, stomping my foot. Joe winced when I did.

"80?" Skylar asked. I paused.

"I'm 79! So close." I smirked, forcing myself to throw up again. This time everything was red and thick, like blood.

"Dillon!" Joe jumped up and grabbed me, holding my hands down. I looked up.

"I can cause drama too." I smirked at everyone.