Voice In My Brain

• Donald Reddy, Grade 6, Bonnyrigg Heights Public School
• Short Story
• 2012

Excellence Award in the 'Legendary 2012' competition

Nobody knows what it’s like. Nobody understands the rules. The rules I must follow, or risk brutal punishment from the voice in my head, “You fat, ugly pig!” “You will never be perfect unless you attain total control!” “Nothing you do is ever acceptable…” Beads of sweat drip down my creased forehead and after glancing at the clock I realize I have been here, at the gym, for almost 2 hours. I exercise for the voice in my head, so that I may satisfy its want, no, need for perfection.

Stepping off the machine I can feel fatigue setting in, as well as a ball of oozing guilt building in my chest. “Two hours is nothing you idiot! Think of those whale thighs, they will never disappear at this rate!” I know the voice is right, and so, to pay for my selfish mistake, I will skip lunch today and probably tomorrow as well. As I leave for home memories flood into my head. Sometimes, like now, I remember back to the good old days before anorexia arrived. These blissful memories only survive for a moment, until the voice reminds me that I was never truly happy, simply ignorant of my imperfections. “It is impossible to be happy when you’re life is out of control and your body is made up of roll after roll of pasty, pudgy fat.”

But the thing is, my life is still a living nightmare. I wish I could crawl into bed and sleep for eternity, dreaming simple, perfect dreams. I do wish I wasn't like this; my every thought focused around food, my every choice affected by the need for flawlessness. But at least now I'm in control. No one knows about my problem, and that’s the way it has to stay.

I arrive home and shuffle timidly across the living room. Seconds before leaving, my mother’s hand abruptly latches around my arm. “When was the last time you ate? For God’s sake! When was the last time you even looked at food?!” A response flies out of my mouth, “I eat mum, ok! Let go of me.”

“Talk to me, please, tell me what I can possibly do,” she cries out in desperation as I flee from the room wanting nothing more than to vanish into thin air. I slam the door violently behind me and stumble towards the staircase my head spinning. Suddenly my legs won’ work, the ground slopes away, and then everything goes black.

The lights take a while to flick back on, and when they do I’m in a hospital bed, the sound of a heart monitor drumming in my ear. “You have failed miserably”, the voice echoes....But this time I know it is wrong. I know I must fight against it, to recover and escape the iron grip of the anorexia. I want to look in the mirror and be proud of my body. I will beat you, Anorexia.