She will not quit. Every night it happens. Eat, bathroom, throw up. Eat, bathroom, throw up. It's an addiction. "Ten pounds," she says, "That's all I need to lose." But it's all a lie. It is eating her up. She's not happy with herself. She does not care about the things and people around her. Her life is fading away quickly. She's dying off. This is an addiction that is killing her...

She wakes up and feels nauseous. She walks to her bathroom and begins her morning routine. Wake up, throw up, wash her face. Her mother knocks on her door and says breakfast is ready. Her appetite is gone, but she knows she has to eat to satisfy her mother. She sits at the table and plays with her food before she forces her food down. She quietly excuses herself from the table and blasts music on her stereo in her room. She quickly slips into her bathroom and throws up her bacon and eggs. She looks at herself in the mirror with disgust. Red lettering on her mirror sabotages her self-esteem. "Ugly", "Useless", and "fat" is what she reads. She weighs herself and the scale reads 98 pounds. She lost the ten pounds long ago, but the more she loses the fatter she sees herself. She goes back inside her room and sinks into a corner to cry. Relient K's "Who I am Hates Who I've Been" fills her head as the music seems to get louder. The knife she pondered about using yesterday is still in her room. She picks it up and gently runs the blade across her wrist. Her hand gets a tighter grip on the knife and slashes it across her wrist and she whispers, "I'm sorry." Her long black hair falls over her face as she topples over. Blood drips on the floor making a dark red puddle.