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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4. February 16

 

Dear Diary...

 

I feel so fat! That chip was really overdoing it, all that grease, and fat, and... ugh. I REALLY hope Joy cooking dosen't become a regular thing.

Next on the agenda. School. I didn't see Finn Logan today, which is a huge disappointment. What was he even doing at my house? I need to ask. I hope he goes to my school, even though it is a total hell-house. Maybe I could have company for once in my life.

Back to food. I questioned Joy if she is going to stick to cooking. She's in this new cooking class.

Fantastic.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

I finish up in my diary, closing the blue cover. Throwing it off my fat bed, I drift off into a restless nightmare.

 

Chained to a chair. It's an extremely regal chair, like something a queen would sit on or whatnot.

But that dosen't matter cause I'M chained to it.

All around me I see people doing the worst imaginable things. Old nightmares colliding, I want to run but I can't.

My parent's yelling at each other, tears streaming down each others faces like a waterfall. Sarah pinching me in fifth grade, laughing as I try not to cry. Blood pouring out of my eyelids like hot tears, the burning, excruciating pain. A yearbook slammed into my face, opening to the comments page. Nothing, except my sister Joy's curvy messy handwriting. "Have a great summer!"

 

Everything vanished at once. I'm all alone, the black haven surrounding me making me shiver. Solitude is  never my friend though, and it will never be. A lump in my throat proves I'm about to cry, and a new thing materializes from the inky black. Food. Delicious food. Purple grape jelly squishing against my pursed lips, saliva dripping inside my empty mouth. 

I haven't eaten jelly in ages, one bite? It.. Couldn't hurt could it? I slit my mouth open oh-so tinily, but it all goes wrong and it slips through my mouth, sticky grape coating my tongue. But its good. Its so, so good.

 

I bolt upright, awake. Rushing out of my old bed into the bathroom. Throwing up everything, the salad I had for lunch today, the ton of water I drank. But no purple jelly. Sweat slicked down my hot forehead as I clutched the toilet seat. 

 

Its just a dream. I didn't eat anything. Im okay.

 

But I can't convinse myself, as stupid as it seems. I need real evidence. Hard proof. The weighing scale.

 

I strip off my clothes shakily, bringing out the old scale, the bottom screeching against the bathroom tiles noisily, like nails on a blackboard.

Stepping onto the cold metal slowly, I see the numbers go up. 

5 1/2 stone. Nearly 6.

I'm sick again in the toilet, disgusted with my sheer grossness. Finally done, with nothing left in my body to heave, I stare into the mirror. Layers of tub grow over my underwear, my fingers so pudgy and large, my hands look like a wheel of sausages. My stomach is over-filled, like a beach ball about to pop. I stare down at my legs, away from the mirror. A thigh gap as large as my outstretched hand, but staring back into the mirror I see no gap whatsoever. Tub surrounding my flabby knees. Clawing at the fat around my stomach, I looked down at myself, seeing each of my ribs, but looking up again, I saw my beach-ball stomach, fit to bust.

 

The mirror never lies. 

 

A/N

1kg is around 0.157473 stone (not around, exactly) xD So if you don't know what stone is (I didn't until recently) yea, now you do.

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