Tears rolled down my face. Damn tears, signs of weakness. A bowl that i'd emptied of ice cream sat next to me on the bed. Stupid ice cream, sign of weakness. They'd forced me to eat at the family picnic, and then i'd gone home only to find out i'd lost the boy i'd only just caught. He had been such a good catch too. So i fucked myself over more and ate more! Ana had seen me eating the ice cream (which NO ONE had forced me to eat) and left me alone for a while. "I'll be back when you can handle me," she'd promised. I needed to be able to handle her now. I needed something to control since i obviously couldn't control Jimmy's feelings. But i couldn't control my eating without Ana, and she wasn't going to help me now. Everyone had left me. Everyone. Even the bastards that had made me stuff my face.
"Eating never ends well," i told myself through the tears. I wanted my knife. I wanted to feel it bite the skin of my wrist, break it, split it open. I wanted to feel the warm, red beauty of blood oozing out over my skin, but i couldn't. There was no way to hide the marks, not in the heat of the August sun.
"Dammit, if i wasn't so fucking fat, Jimmy would still want me!" i said, wiping my tears away angrily with the back of my hand. "It's my own stupid fault." I hurled the empty bowl across the room. "Fuck food. I'm going to fix it. I'm going to make myself better. I AM."
Mia stepped into the room and took my hand in hers. "Come along, darling," she said, her sickening breath blowing in my face and making me gag. "You're going straight to the treadmill, since you can't seem to be sick."
I clung to her like she was my last chance at life, and followed her down to the basement where the treadmill and weights awaited my teary-eyed arrival.