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Rated: 13+ · Sample · Dark · #1512108
A girl suffering from anorexia fights against the self loathing that started it all.
I stand in the white halls, the sterile scent burning my nose as the air travels in and out of my lungs. I pass hospital trays with strange metallic tools glinting menacingly at me. Continuing towards the washroom, I step towards the sink and stare. I look at the monster in front of me. She has hollow eyes, and hair that sticks out at every angle, suffering from neglect. Her skin is blotchy and wax like, with a scowl permanantly twisting her features. I reach out my slender arm and touch to cool glass that separates us, and she hisses at me. "You dirty bitch, what have you done? Landing us in here? I hope your proud of yourself."
I stutter in protest, "we're here to get better... we're here so mom can get better".
She laughs bitterly, "Right, like you ever gave a damn about your family before. Your so selfish that you stuffed your face whenever you could and enjoyed their tortured expressions while every lump of food went into your gut. You disgust me."
I stare at her, tears stinging my hollow eyes, "Mom wants us here. She wants us to eat. She wants us to get better."
She pauses for a moment, "No." The steely glint of hate that I was so accustomed to viewing shone with unusual menace. "You want us here, you want to make us fat with your selfishness. You want us to be greasy and overweight like the cows at those fast food places you love so much. You couldn't care less about your precious mother, you like hurting her, it makes your pathetic life seem so much better."
She stares at me as I fall to my knees in front of her, covering my sharp face with long spidery fingers, I sob, hot wet tears fall down my face. "You're lying".
"What?" She stares at me coldly. "what did you say?"
"I said. You, are, LYING!" I screamed at her.
"You can't talk to me like this! Your nothing but a fat whore!" She screeched at me, lothing radiating towards me.
"Your wrong. I can talk however I like. I can be myself, and I can get better. I can make Mom stop worrying, stop drinking. I can make dad stop working all the time. I just have to get better, and for that, I don't need you."
She stares at me, and a slow smile spreads across her tight lips. "Right, like you would be anywhere without me. Like you could survive."
I reply with the same amount of venom inserted into my unsure voice, "I can be whoever I want, and I can eat whatever I want!"
"Bitch" She growled out of the mirror, "You can't do anything unless I tell you to, you can't exist without me!"
"I. Am. Not. YOU!" I fly at the mirror, with my tiny fists I beat at the mirror, watching pieces fall to the floor, watching her slip from my vision until there is nothing but my blood soaked hands, and I pass out to the sound of footsteps and a nurse calling for help.

::::~~~...Three weeks later...~~~::::

I haven't seen her since that day. I have lived alone in my head for three weeks, free to govern my thoughts. I still struggle with myself, still fight to eat that last piece of egg, swallow that last bite. But I do it, for my mother, who sits beside me smiling, and encourages every mouthful. I have gained four pounds, and the doctors say if I keep trying, then I can get out soon. I can get a life... maybe go back to school, find a boyfriend. I can be my own person again.
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