C

"Who are you?" i asked the hungry-eyed girl as i followed her into my kitchen for the millionth time.
"Just call me C," she answered, rooting through the cupboards.
I frowned. "What's that short for?"
"Nothing really. Here, just eat something."
I'd already eaten too much, but i accepted the food she offered, barely even seeing what it was as i stuffed it blindly into my mouth. Some sort of ravenous hunger gnawed at my stomach and begged me to keep eating. "You're going to make me fat, C," i told her.
"Nonsense," she tsk-tsked. "Everyone knows you could use a few pounds on you."
I looked down at my bloated stomach. Funny, i'd thought i was too fat.
Mom yelled at us for eating her cherry poptarts, but we didn't care; we just kept eating them. Dad asked what in the world i was doing eating a hamburger, but i ignored him and took another too-big bite of greasy, fat meat.
"Here," C shoved a bag at me. "Eat these too."
"But i don't even like Cheetos," i protested.
"Why does that matter?" she asked me, biting into a frozen something-or-other, not wasting the time it would take to heat it up.
I shrugged and dug into Cheetos. Might as well eat them; C was right, and it didn't really matter anymore anyway. Together we ate everything in the kitchen except the silverware. (Ok, maybe i'm exaggerating just a little bit.)
I was stuffed; C was not. "We should go buy ice cream!" she suggested, and for some odd reason, it sounded like a fantastic idea. I grabbed the car keys.
Then Ana appeared. "Get out of here, you bitch!" she screamed at C, who cowered into a corner.
"She-she's yours?" C asked, her voice trembling as she bowed before Ana. "I didn't know..."
"Liar!"
"No, really... I didn't!" and with that C ran away, leaving me to face Ana's wrath alone.
"Why would you listen to her?" Ana turned her fury to me.
"Who is she?" i whispered, too afraid to speak aloud.
"Compulsive overeating, you dumb-ass."
C.... I should have known....
"What were you thinking?!"
"I.. I don't know." It was my turn to stammer and stutter before Ana.
"You're pathetic. I don't know what's wrong with you," she murmured.
"I'm sorry."
"Sorry doesn't cut it, Jo; it doesn't even come close." She turned away from me.
"How can i fix it then?" i asked, desperate to patch things up with her.
Her head spun around and her shocking eyes met mine. I did my best not to shudder or pull my eyes away. "Fast," she said sharply. "Fast for at least two days."
I nodded. "I will."