3A/N: I think this is pretty crappy...But my friend told me to put it up. So here it is.
She fell onto her back right next to the off-white toilet and onto the cold tile floor. She liked how the floor's temperature complemented her cold, frail body and how it seemed to sooth the aches in her back caused by various things. Like hunching over the toilet every week.
She wouldn't dare to do it every day because the acids ruined her teeth. Anyway, her parents would have heard if she did it every day. But they were always out on Sundays. She just resisted the urge to just dump anything she ate into the toilet until then. Besides, she only ate enough to keep her alive. There wasn't exactly enough to throw up. But she wished she didn't have to eat anything. Then she wouldn't have to put herself through the torture of continuously gagging herself. But, if she just stopped eating, people would be bound to notice.
If people noticed, they'd talk. If they talked, he would hear. If he heard, that would be the one flaw she had that his stupid girlfriend didn't. If he heard…If anyone heard…Her flawless image would be ruined. Her beautiful, amazing blonde hair, smart, once athletic, popular…perfect…image. It would be all gone.
But if she was so flawless, why the hell did he pick her, of all people?
In her opinion, his girlfriend was horrible. Her clothes were blinding in a horrible way. Her skin wasn't perfect. And her hair. Oh gosh, her hair was so frizzy. It was horrible. So stupid and horrible. It didn't make sense. Why would he, someone so, well, perfect, pick someone so flawed? It was obvious that to perfect people should be together. Wine should be in a beautifully crafted glass, not in a plastic cup.
She remembered the day when he picked that stupid creature to be his. It was at the school dance. That thing was being a wallflower, wasting time with her other loser friends. She was followed him around, discretely, of course. And then she saw it happen. He asked the cretin something. She nodded with a smile. And then they were on the dance floor, swaying to the blonde's new least favorite song. She excused herself from her group of friends and ran to the empty bathroom. The tears were already coming out but no one noticed. And then she collapsed by the ceramic sink. She got up eventually and looked in the mirror.
She was getting fat. She noticed how her tight shirt made the unpleasant curves obvious. She noticed how big her thighs looked in her jeans. She noticed her chubby cheeks. She was fatter than she realized.
And she hated it.
This must have been the reason why he picked that imbecile over her. At least the other girl wasn't fat.
And that's how it started.
She kept trying to get thinner and thinner for the boy. But diets and exercising were obviously not working. He was still with the other girl. He still wasn't hers.
So she started to eat less and throw up every week.
But it still wasn't working.
Was she really that fat?
Two months of risking her life to get skinny and he still wasn't hers.
She continued to lie by the porcelain toilet as she reflected everything. Why wasn't she good enough for him? Why?! These thoughts always came. Whether she was vomited or just studying for a test. Her mind drifted to him. She was obsessed, to say the least.
All she wanted was for him to be with her.
She started to feel pain in her chest. She felt so constricted, as if she was wearing a corset. She couldn't breathe and black dots were appearing all over the place.
What was happening? This had never occurred in the past two months.
But she didn't care. She thought it was a sign that every she had done was starting to work.
So she closed her eyes and let the darkness take over. The comforting darkness. The loving darkness.
Love.
He would never love her.
But she never realized that.