Trigger Warning: This story deals with eating disorders and mental health issues. This book will only be 12 chapters long! Be sure to vote and comment!
No.
The word was scribbled on my left wrist in bright red ink. It would mean nothing to others, but to me, the word stood for: No more food.
I had grown an absurd amount over the past few months; and staring at models and beautiful actresses made me wish I could be like them, skinny like them. It made me wish I was thin with a flat belly and a giant thigh gap.
Only, I'd tried to achieve this goal and failed hundreds of times.
"Yes! I want it." I had told dozens of telemarketers. Dumb, I know, but I was desperate. I wanted to be as thin as those k-drama girls who always got the guy.
I tried the appetite suppressants, spent weeks drinking coffee, tried any pills from brands that weren't FDA-approved. The fad diets, the keto-whatever, the exercising too much. But exercising only made me hungrierâ and I had a problem with self control. It was a vicious cycle that I couldn't break.
Each morning for months, my alarm went off at 7. And I'd force myself out of bed to go jog once around the block, equating the equivalence of 0.75 miles. But, each morning, I could barely run half of that.
I hated myselfâ no, let me rephrase because I don't hate myselfâ I hated the way that I looked and how giant I seemed when standing beside anyone shorter than me. Even my father had successfully lost weight, he was thinner than me now and I used to be the thinnest person in my family. And I'm uncertain of when my weight changes began happening.
I weighed close to 200 pounds now, which is about 90 kilograms and I was only five-foot-two. I was insecure and self-conscious at all times and genuinely concerned that I'd never find a guy that wanted to be with me.
All my skinny friends, even the ones with no personality, had no trouble finding boyfriends. When I was thin, I also had no trouble flirting or finding guys to talk to.
I wanted to be loved, to finally get a boyfriend, to be able to walk around confidently in short skirts without worrying about the cellulite or the uncomfortable chafing. I didn't want to look or feel like a whale or that my face was too round from any angle. I wanted a jawline, thin arms, a flat stomach, and my legs to shrink. I hated my reflectionâ especially now that it was nearing my period and the red blotches of zits began appearing on my face again.
I'd continually heard about pretty privilege, but nobody tells you that it only applies if you're pretty and thin. I was a ball of self-pity and in order to overcome that, I was planning on finding any sort of self-control. I was planning on fixing myself and this issue of my weightâ and I was done trying to do it in a healthy manner. Slow and steady wins the race, but going slow for so long and getting no results was like an shot to the heart.
Studies showed that insulting someone who was larger-than-average, with the motivation that they'll change their eating habits, actually led them to eating more. It's true, and unfortunately, there was no shortage of insults at my house. My parents constantly ragged on me every time I ate anything, which only led me to eating more. Another vicious cycle.
I only hoped that it would eventually workâ my logic was that if I ate nothing, then my body would need to burn the fat in order to survive. I would need to ignore my hunger and drink a lot of water. That was my plan and it was the main reason why the word 'No' was scrawled on my wrist.
Someone tapped on my shoulder as my eyes flung open, dry drool on the side of my mouth as the teacher barked on, as though he were automatic. I glanced over at the green chalk-board while Mr. Peterson scribbled with the barely-visible lime-green chalk that molded with the board like it was a second skin. Pointless really, that he'd write on it with the same color it was.
"What?" I turned around to face the person behind me, annoyed that she had woken me up when there were at least twenty minutes left in class.
"Mr. Peterson called on you." She whispered, but looking up and watching Mr. Peterson made me realize that he was lost in his own world. He, evidently, wasn't paying attention to his students and just continued rambling on about Hamlet while he wrote animatedly, not bothering to turn around once to check that his students were awake.
I looked around the classroom, white walls with lamented posters. Everyone was asleepâ I realized, at least half the class had their heads resting on the desks. Some were even snoring.
I turned back to the girl behind me and raised an eyebrow.
"He didn't." I pointed out as her bright red lips turned upwards, into a strange smile. She was thin and gorgeous, she would never have a problem getting any guy.
"I know, it's just that there's a hole in your skirt and I don't know if you knew that. Wouldn't want your butt showing." She whispered as my eyes widened, wondering why she didn't just say that to begin with.
Hole in my skirt? I had worn the same skirt every day for the past six months at this school, it was part of an uncomfortable uniform. And today, I had decided to go to school without my usual leggings under. This morning, I had felt somewhat confidentâ but as the day had dragged on, insecurity quickly replaced that confidence.
But the girl was right, there was a hole right by my butt, but moreover, there was a piece of fabric lying right underneath it. My eyes widened and I looked back up at her with a flare in my tone.
"Did you cut my skirt?" I confronted her as she grew defensive. Her eyebrows shot up. She probably thought I was too dumb to catch her in the act, but I was confused why she would point out the hole if she was the one to cut it.
"What?! No, I just noticed it and told you." She gasped, her thin fingers covering her mouth. It made me wonder if she was telling the truthâ or if she was just a really good actress. "Someone else must've done it earlier? I don't know, you turned in your seat and the fabric fell off so I told you about it."
"Right." I said, still skeptical.
"Phoebe, I wouldn't do that to anybody. I know how much these skirts costâ especially for people that are short on money." She said, but I couldn't tell if she was being genuine or if she was now insulting my monetary status.
I nodded, not wanting to argue with someone I hardly spoke to or saw. "Thanks for letting me know." I announced.
Then, without another word, I rose from my seat and grabbed the bathroom pass. Mr. Peterson didn't even flinch when I walked past him, out of the classroom, and toward the bathroom.
I avoided my reflection. Instead, I rushed into a stall and took my skirt off, holding it in front of me and trying to figure out what to do about the new hole that was located at my right butt cheek.
I stood there for about fifteen minutes, trying to adjust it. But, I ended up just taking my bra off and clamping it to my leg, covering the gap beneath the hole.
Nobody would notice because I always wore two layers of sweaters to cover up my arms and stomach anyway. The only thing that might be different would be that the burgundy plaid skirt would have a random navy-blue spot on the upper left portion.
I walked back toward the classroom, dropping off the bathroom-pass. The bell rang just as I was picking up my backpack and everyone in my English class slowly woke up, but the evidence that they'd been asleep was very present in their eyes.
Red lipstick girl, whose name was Gabriella to her acquaintances, but Gaby to her friends, gave me a thumbs up before rushing out of the classroom. It probably signified that my underwear was no longer visibleâ or my bare, cellulite-coated buttock.
I walked out with the large crowd, hoping I wasn't taking too much space or walking too slowly. It was lunchtime now and it was also the first day of my new 'diet.'
No. As in, no food until the marking on my left wrist washes off and then, I would write it again. I walked to my car and sat inside, taking a deep breath and not sucking in my stomach anymore.
Even though our school was strict with uniforms and had many, many rulesâ we had one freedom and that was the allowance of eating off-campus lunch. I heard my stomach growl, but I ignored it.
No food. I reminded myself. The bitter emptiness that came with hunger lurched at me. But I shut it out, instead pulling out my phone and watching a cooking show.
You have plenty of fat. Eat that. I told my body.
That was day one.