Am I Beautiful Yet?

Anorexia, something that effects 1 in 10 people. But not Taylor Hope. Well, not to her anyway. Laughed at by Sarah and her troop of barbies, Taylor has no-one to confined to except her new Diary. But then he arrives in town.

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3. February 15 (Again)

 

Dear Diary...

 

Well I guess the day was norm, I got up, got dressed in clothes. Brush my teeth, hair, then go. Arrive at homeroom 3.25 minutes early (I counted) and have Sarah call me skinny cow, then go the rest of my lessons, go home, do homework, and now, a new thing in my schedule, write in this crappy diary. Although I did meet someone, his name is Finn. Finn Logan. Ridiculous that I remember his name, but even more funny how I remember him saying it, his voice clear like crystal, not drafting around like 70% of the boys when they mumble their presentation about King Henry the Eighth.

(Sorry Josh, but even I agree that you did a terrible job talking)

But anyway, I should get to sleep. Maybe I'll see Finn again. Maybe I w

 

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"Dinner!" Mother calls from below me, interrupting my writing. My eyebrows knit together, we never eat dinner together.

As a family.

Never.

It's always my parents eating dinner late at night watching a romantic comedy (I know its a RC because I hear Father sigh impatiently every few minutes) and my older sister, Joy, going to McDonalds with her mates. I just don't eat. A system that has worked for many many months. Of course, nobody knows I don't eat, but no one bothers asking about it. Nobody asks what exiting thing did YOU do today honey? Or how was my day today, and did you hear about latest earthquake in China?

The many perks of not eating together, is no stupid small talk. 

 

"Taylor Hope Green! Hurry down now!" My Father, this time bellowed. His large voice echoing up from the staircase.

 

I stalk down the stairs, flicking my limp mousy hair. Arriving into the dining room, Joy, my elder sister, brings out a pan of something sickly smelling. Steam wafting up into the air.

"Taylor Grace darling, Joy dear has make us dinner!"

Mother ushered me to my seat, a wide grin exclaiming her face. I understand why though.

 

 Joy has absolutely no interest in doing anything with her life other than partying with her friends, going to McDonalds, Starbucks, and drinking alcohol. (The last one my parents don't know, but Joy is relying on me not to tell.)

 

With the steaming dish of god knows what on the table, Joy plops down her mass of Joy-ness and starts helping herself to dinner. What I now know is fish and chips, I push the plate away from me, wanting to vomit.

The lukewarm, greasy chips, filled with soggy potato, and the slimy pale-white fish covered with crusty bits of breadcrumbs make's me loose my appetite, although most foods do now. Joy nudged me arm, glaring at me, as if to say,

I made something, appreciate it. Or I will violently skewer with you with my SPOON. In the harsh, demanding tone that Joy usually wears.

 I slowly pick up a small piece of fish. Cutting it up into small pieces. Cutting and cutting, smaller and smaller. Watching my sister, my stomach churning rapidly. Her pudgy fingers grabbing at another chip, and another, then, another.

Grease running down her lips, I shudder.

Joy isn't fat. No, in fact... Well... No.

 

I'm fat.

 

She has an hourglass figure, a tiny waist. I'm a watermelon compared to her. She also has those huge, gorgeous bambi eye's, the mascara she normally wears exclaiming them. Making me secretly envy her even more. 

"Taylor, can you please try something, a thing of fish? A chip?"

Joy's sweet tone fooled my parents, but I can see evil death dripping off her lips at each word. Or it might be chip fat. I can't tell. Joy shoves a mountain full of chips onto my plate. I want to barf all over the stupid hill of food. But picking up the smallest, most burn french fry, I chip of a smidgen off, chewing it up. Then doing again, and again, until the whole chip is gone. I gaze up to Joy, and see her relived, if not annoying nod of approval.

 

Its one chip, it wont hurt, its like what, 25 calories? 

 

I try to calm myself down, but its to much, I already exceeded my calorie intake today, and it's to much. I feel the chip slide down my throat, doubling in size, in portion. Too much. Too heavy. Too fatty.

 

"Excuse me!" I say hurriedly as I rush off to the bathroom.

 

A/N 

Okay so to anyone who dosen't understand, a chip in this case would be a french fry. Hope I didn't confuse anyone (: Please tell me if I should update or not tho xD

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