A Brief Night of an Anorexic

Sitting up against the wall, the girl felt her stomach growl in hunger. All around her, people were stuffing their faces full with fatty foods, all high in calorie content. She could see all the kilojoules they were putting on as the food slipped down into their stomachs. She swallowed, thinking triumphantly about how she hadn't given into temptation in over a month. She hadn't had to shove anything in her mouth and chew it. She was feeling a bit faint, but it was completely worth it. She also hadn't had to shove her finger down her throat and feel the familiar pain that marked the start of her dry retching. Sometimes she used her toothbrush but she didn't like the sharpness of it.
She woke up out of her reverie and looked around, wondering why she even came to this party. All that people did at these things were get drunk, stoned, fucked people they would regret the next day and eat. So much eating. It seemed to her that that's all anybody did. Everywhere she turned, there was somebody scoffing food like pigs. She did not want to be on the same level as those people, with their fat rolls bulging out of the bottom of their shirts and thighs touching. She shuddered in disgust.
She had to come to this "get together" because otherwise people would get suspicious. She had the tendency to avoid the social scene in fear that she would give into the horrors of sugar or, even worse, carbs.
She glanced down at her body and was horrified to see the lumps of fat that hung off her. They looked so heavy as they sagged off her beautiful bones. She wondered how, after months of detox, months of starving herself, months of purging, she still had glumps of cellulite. She was so fat.
The girl was so busy working out if there were any calories in water that she didn't notice the groups of people staring at her with concerned eyes. She didn't hear the mutterings of the passers-by, glancing at her, a sack of bones and skin, in disgust.
The girl breathed out as an exasperated sigh. She was through with these people, despite not seeing how they looked at her. She was feeling dizzier than usual, but she passed this off as a reaction to the faint strobe lights glaring in everyone's eyes, tempting them to dance.
She decided to go back home where she could sleep away the weak feelings of hunger. She felt so ashamed that she couldn't control these pains like she used to be able to.
She didn't even make it to the door until the well-known feeling of nausea swept over her. Her stomach turned in knots as she frantically searched for a bathroom, eyes following her with every step she took.
She got to a door that had a symbol on it for female. She shoved the door open, desperately throwing girls applying makeup out of the way to get to the only open cubicle. With shouts of anger at smudging their attempts to look beautiful disappearing behind her, as she shut the door, she collapsed onto the ceramic bowl, retching. No other thing was more painful to the girl than dry retching, especially how her corrosive stomach acids had damaged the back of her throat. She winced in pain as she heaved.
There was nothing in her stomach except for the acids that helped digest her food if she ate any. That's what appeared out of her mouth and into the bowl in front of her. She felt her stomach feel like it was eating itself and blanching, opened the door to violent shoutings.
"That girl!"
"We have to call an ambulance!"
"I don't need an a-" she started to say.
She was interrupted by herself. That is to say, it looked as though her whole face just switched off in that instant. She collapsed and writhed in pain on the floor.
Distressed screams bounced off the bathroom walls as she, after an agonising amount of time, fell still.
The ambulance got there moments too late to save her. After the autopsy, they reported that her stomach was so depleted that it digested itself in desperation for nutrients.