Three Pounds

May 14, 2009
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My heart raced fast and my ears pounded with fear. There was no telling what I would see if I opened my eyes. Perhaps someone disfigured, mottled and frightening or perhaps someone who was just unfortunate looking with no chance for change. Either would be better than what I knew would appear in the mirror. I knew the reflection staring back all too well. It would have rolls of fats hanging loosely from its body and dimples in places where they shouldn’t ever be. A tear ran down my chubby bloated cheeks, shining harshly in the blinding fluorescent lights. My nude whale like body quivered with disgust and I hesitated before stepping that that dreaded torture device: The Scale. I felt the rush of burning tears sting my eyes and the inevitable sobs wrack my body with frustration. My eyes stayed glued to the LCD screen in fear of what the number would read.

96 lbs.

I threw my hands up in despair. Three more pounds compared to last week’s weigh in. How could it be? The scale had to be wrong. I tried again and again, praying for another result but the answer refused to change. Ninety six pounds, ninety six pounds, ninety six pounds! The number echoed through my mind with bitter repeated malice. There was no way I could have eaten enough to sustain three pounds. There was the apple, that damn apple, but I only ate it to keep my parents unsuspecting. Oh my God, it was the popcorn. The measly bowl of popcorn that my friends shoved down my throat, it had to be the source! Three hundred and sixty three calories of pure disgust corroding in my stomach. It was entirely their fault that this had happened to me. It was their fault that even though I had stuck to my strict diet of celery sticks and water that I had still gained three pounds. Everybody knows celery has negative calories so obviously it was the popcorn’s fault and therefore all my friend’s fault. Those b******. They wanted me to be unhappy. I couldn’t believe them! Why couldn’t they just understand? They just didn’t want me to be thinner than them. That had to have been the problem. Guess what else is all because of my stupid inconsiderate friends? The fact that all next week I’m going to have to live on just water and maybe, just maybe, a little tiny morsel of cheese so I can achieve my ideal weight.

I couldn’t give in, not this time. There is no way I can afford another relapse, not like last time. I was climbing to the one hundred pound mark tragically fast and there was only one escape. I would have to restrict myself, exercise even more. How would people look at me if I was that big? A whole three digits, that’s just asking to be mocked. I grabbed at my stomach flab, pulling the skin forward and wishing with every glance that it would just disappear. I did the side view, the rear view, the full three sixty, and yet no matter which way I turned I still looked pregnant. My final goal couldn’t be too far off. I had to achieve that beautiful standard of thinness sometimes; I just didn’t know when.

It would probably be never at this rate. I put my clothes back on and prepared for yet another treacherous day at school. What a grand way to start a Monday, a weight gain of three pounds, three whole pounds. I could barely look myself in the eye as I did my makeup. Of course that was done to perfection, each eye lined and coated to a “T”. As long as everything else looked put together there was no way that everyone else would realize that I felt like I was under constant scrutiny. Oh hell, what did it matter it anymore? I was under constant scrutiny. An entire three pounds could not possibly go unnoticed. It just wasn’t conceivable. I mean, I noticed when Jane put on five pounds in just her thigh area, and oh my god, the pants that Casey was wearing the other day? Total muffin top. Everyone would notice. I couldn’t show my face today, not until I lost those three pounds. Maybe four for good measure.

Hastily, I scrubbed my makeup off and made my cheeks look rosy. I scrambled back into bed and huddled in the protective shelter of my covers.

“Mom!” I shouted/coughed, “ I think I’m sick!” My mother has got to be one of the densest people on earth. Every time, like clockwork, she falls for it. I can’t even count the days I’ve missed this way. She lets me stay home, the parents go to work, and then I am left all alone to enjoy an amazingly ruthless day with my best friend, the Elliptical. Ten thousand eight hundred calories was all I needed to burn. Sure, it looked and sounded daunting but I knew that it could be done. Quickly I calculated the amount of time I would need to spend on my only trusted companion.
306 Calories

=

612 Calories
=
10800
= 17.6 Hours = Success
30 Minutes





Hour




612


There was yet again only one way to complete such an exhausting day with nobody finding out. My parents got home at around six and it was eight now so if I started this very moment, which I was going to, I would get ten hours in. All I would have to do is sleep for three hours when they got home, start up again at nine when they went to bed and I would lose those terrifying three pounds by five and still manage to get six hours of sleep. The plan was not flawed in the least and I knew I could make it. My parents, as usual, would be clueless and I would be slim and beautiful. I was ingenious. Somehow, I would conquer this revolting disease. Someday, I would not be obese.





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cafrinn:) said...
Sept. 18, 2009 at 12:41 am
Wow, this really spoke to me. I almost felt as if I were your character. I loved it :)
 
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