A Bite Away

It was hurting. My stomach ached and yet I couldn’t bring myself to eat. I’m tired, this is normal now, my head always hurts and my stomach feels robbed. The pain is almost unbearable, they tell me it will go away if I chew, bite, swallow and manage to keep myself from vomiting when I go to the toilet later.
It use to be different, I use to be happy. I became ugly so I tried to fix myself, I was happy again. But then I hurt; now I keep hurting, the pain grows every day, more and more.
The doctors told to me that if I ate I would become happy, they don’t mean it. They just try and make it seem easy, seeming like it will all get better so I will agree. I hear them, the other voices, the ones in my head, they help me get better, telling me what to do. They tell me who I can trust and how much I should eat, when it’s time to throw up and pretend to chew. “Wipe your mouth and spit it out,” they tell me.
Mum tells me she loves me, I’m hurting her. She always tries to control me but she doesn’t understand, all I want is to look pretty, beautiful and full of life like the girls in the magazines, like the girls at school.
I go to a different school now, they teach us to eat. The others here are like me, but prettier, I eat less to fit in. Everyone knows that I’m the ugliest.
The doctors told me my hair on my head won’t grow anymore; they say that seeing all of your ribs and spine is unhealthy, what do they know about health? There just proving I’m ugly.
I tell my little sister that I’m fine, she cries. She comes out of the bathroom with puffy eyes, my monitor always beeping. My mum doesn't try to hide that she hates me and sobs in public for everyone to see.
I rub my arms, there covered in goose bumps, to keep me warm, making me uglier like the black hairs which grew over me. They said this was really bad, but good that my body was still reacting.
I don’t have a choice, they force tubes in my stomach, needles in my arms. Sometimes I hear music, sweet beautiful music, it’s soothing. I start to float away. Those are the best moments; I feel no pain, no voices in my head. I am at peace. They said I had a heart attack, dad sobbed.
Today I’ve had three. Today is the best day. I am going. My parents told me they loved me, uncontrollable sobs ripped through their chests. More people came to see me.
My small cousin is walking to me whispering in my ear “You were never ugly,” I wanted to reach out something was changing, I want to go back.
The harps started playing, I feel no pain.


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