The "How to Disappear" Game

I'm too much. Too much waste of space that is. I'm too fat, way too much fat and saggy skin hang off my bones. I spend hours standing in front of my bathroom mirror, pinching my fat. I turn sideways and suck my stomach in; there's my lovely bones. Is this what twenty two year olds are supposed to do? My phone goes off on the counter and I grab it. 1 new message. From: Mia: You are disgusting. Look at how fat you are, Sage. You'll never be thin enough. Go puke. Right now. Fat cow, how can you look at yourself in the mirror. So I do. Daisy and I have this sick game where we put each other in our phones by our disorder and then send encouraging texts to one another. Good one Dais. Now it's my turn.