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Fifteen Minutes of Hell

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Bent over the toilet, I took a few deep breaths as my mind swirled with thoughts and nightmarish what-ifs. The first time is always the hardest because you don’t know what you’re doing. After a few minutes, I regained my composure. Relax, I told myself. My hand shook as I picked up my toothbrush and inserted the end down my throat. Just a bit further, just a bit further. Suddenly, I felt a gut-wrenching feeling in my stomach and a burning in my throat. Before I knew it, my desert came up. I stared at the digested chocolate cake floating in the water in amazement. It worked!
Disgusted with myself, I flushed the toilet and stood up to run my toothbrush under the sink. Unfortunately, however, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Oh god.
My too-short black hair hung limply around my round face. Expressionless eyes stared blankly back at me, and oh, how I longed to be a couple of inches taller. Fifteen minutes later, I began undressing. I reveled at my progress as I cupped my hands fully around my right thigh. This is going to be short and pointless, I reminded myself. No amount of time spent in the shower would wash away my ugliness.


Clothes were a different story. You learn early on in the game that it’s hard to put something on and walk around without anyone noticing the fabric hanging loosely against your body. The trick is to use safety pins – two on each side of skirts, and one on each side for dresses. Belts conceal weight loss easily, as long as they’re tight.

Go ahead and walk down the hall, drinking up the compliments. One “I love your outfit” and two “You look so thin”s will be enough to make your day. Classes come and go, and the only time markers are mealtimes, when you’ll need to exercise self-control. If not, you’ll have to go to hell again.





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