106 pounds

March 30, 2011
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106, no, 107 pounds. The tiny red needle wobbles; it’s that time again. That red needle is the only real thing, the only thing that matters, as the world whirls around your line of vision.You feel as if you’re hanging onto a bridge, on the edge of falling off. But that bridge is your life. The weight scale sighs as you step off it, even it seems to think you’ve gone too far. Everyone has. But it’s too late. Too late. Those words echo around and around your empty head, and through the crevices and hollows that make up your barren body.

“You need to grow!! You’re skinny enough, especially for a girl of 5”6’!!” That’s what everyone says when they see you picking at you food, but they don’t understand. Your parents aren’t back from work yet, but just in case, you turn on the sink facet, light-headed as you are. But this light-headedness is good, as is this hunger, this weakness. It’s familiar, a thing to lean back to when all else goes wrong.

People always said that you were a smart girl, getting good grades and being so athletic and talented in every aspect. All that was just a facade, that was a front that you had to put up to make everyone like you. But they won’t like you for who you truly are. But maybe they will if you just lost a few more pounds. And those will be the last few pounds. You hope.

Putting your fingers as far back as they can go inside your throat, you try to choke. Today, you’ve been a bad girl. A bad girl!!! There were bruises where you’ve hit yourself, and still tear stains from just a few minutes before. Why did you eat those nuts, with all that fat and calories? You are a failure at everything!! You feel ashamed that you lost control of yourself, that you allowed yourself to eat. And so this is the price you pay.

It’s so frustrating! You can’t even vomit!! Since all this started, a few weeks back, you’ve been trying so hard to purge, but it’s just so hard. Your body wasn’t allowing it. After a few attempts, you resort to doing a thousand sit ups, and a thousand pushups.
One. You had to be lighter than you were yesterday. Three. You didn’t need all that healthy crap, being of healthy weight....That was just unthinkable. Ten. It’s so frustrating when your parents force you to eat, when they don’t understand! Twenty. Other people can eat; they’re normal. They won’t get fat. But you will get even fatter than you already are. Fifty. People think you have a problem, and you know it too, deep down in your heart. But your heart has been muffed out by the sound of that voice, telling you, haunting you, that you’re not good enough. One hundred. I. Will. Not. Eat!!! One hundred and fifty.

The world you know is swirling around. Dark splotches appear at the corner of your eyes. You feel woozy, but you can’t stop. You have to keep going. If you don’t, you’ll just start crying in a corner, and that voice will haunt you again. You’ll never be happy. As long as you kept going, you’ll be happy. That empty promise lingers, and it’s the only thing that matters.

At about two hundred and seventy, the world plummets on you, and closes in. As your head hits the bed, all you can think about, is what if you hadn’t eaten those few cashew nuts?

And still, that voice, saying 106 pounds....





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