Thin by the third grade...

Thin by Third Grade


Chapter 1

Wake up. Pull away the blankets. 228 pounds. Struggle to the washroom. Turn the tap, brushing my teeth. 228 pounds. Wash my face. Look in the mirror. I’m staring at myself. I’m disgusted. I’m petrified. I’m fat. Put on clothes.. Walk to school. Made fun of. Starts off slow. Fat ass. Engine runs...fat ass piece of shit. No offense taken...it was expected. I reached my destination. The hell hole of education. Open the door...opened my fat.
I see posters...10 of them. I’m not sure. 3 months. June 24. 6:00. Semi-formal. The poster read, “Come on...come all to the party of the year. Don’t miss out. It’s being held on June 24 at 6:00 p.m. Shine at Presidente Party hall. Do your thang’!” As I’m reading I see a figure. A female figure. She’s thin as paper, but that’s the trend these days. Helpert, Sally was here name. God damn it, I was jealous of her skinny seductive thighs. Looking at the slut, it made me want to shred the meat of my thighs in the paper shredder. She always got her way, with marks, men and teachers. Rumour went around that she slept with the Biology teacher, and guess who got the Biology Award that year? Miss. Slutty Sally. She was the type to use her body as a tool. If she wanted to sleep with the quarterback on the football team, she’d simply wear a micro mini skirt with a crystal clear top to emphasize her perfectly proportioned breasts. She sure indeed slept with him. She once slept with him the morning before an exam, and came to school with her zipper down and no bra. According to the school, she still looked sexy.
I’ve always wanted to be skinny like her. Not just her. But like Hilary Duff, Paris Hilton and Christina Aguilera. I hate myself for the way I am. Semi formal is in 2 months, and I promise to God I will be skinny. I want to be stared at. I want to be called sexy, not by mom or dad, but by the boys in school. But what’s the secret to becoming skinny? Not just skinny, sexy as well. When I enter the doors that lead me to the semiformal dance, I want all eyes to be on me. Especially the eyes of my secret –four-year-crush, Steven Johnson. I want to look amazing so amazing that he’ll come and ask me to the dance. But first, I should realize that I’m not going anywhere with the fat on my skin. My Caucasian-pimple free- skin. Dieting starts tomorrow. Look out world. Here I come.
Wake up. Pull away the blankets. 228 pounds. Struggle to the washroom. Turn the tap, to brush my teeth. 228 pounds. Wash my face. Look in the mirror. I’m staring at myself. I’m disgusted. I’m petrified. I’m fat. Put on clothes. SKIP BREAKFAST. Walk to school. Made fun of. Starts off slow...Fat ass. Engine runs...fat ass piece of shit. No offense taken...it was expected. I reached my destination. The hell hole of education. Opened the door...Opened my fat.

Daily Record:
Beginning Weight: 228 Pounds.
Desired Weight: 100 Pounds.

Time

Food

Calories

7:45- 9:00
Water
0

9:00-12:00
Water
0

12:00-3:00
Apple
44
3:00-6:00
Water
0
6:00-9:00p.m.
Water
0

Total Intake: 44 Calories
It’s been along time since I have written. I’ve been too weak to write. I just had an apple wrapped with a leaf for lunch. There is some energy in me now. As I get weaker, I feel skinnier. Which is a good thing? I haven’t been to school, and even though I am with my family, I have lost contact with them. My pants feel loose, and my breasts are sagging because I haven’t bought a new bra. My legs are sore and my stomach has black spots on them. My eyes have bags under them, my mouth is dried up from no milk. Beauty kills.
It’s been a month since I started my crash-diet. I feel good. I feel sexy. I feel skinny. Semi-formal is in exactly one month. I went to the mall today, I had too. None of my clothing was fitting and my breasts are hanging low, down low with my weight. My dress is red with a flower on the right side. I bought matching accessories. I got all I wanted but except one thing. I was howled at, or shouted about. I didn’t get a, “Hey momma, you so sexy you make me want to change my pants” or “Girl, gimme’ your number, we can hook up some time.” None of that. Not even a glimpse from any hot guys. I figured I haven’t lost enough weight, I continued to starve myself. I’m planning to go to school tomorrow. Maybe the people in
school can tell the difference between me before and now. I can’t want to see Steven’s face. I can’t wait. But first, I have to skip dinner.
Here I am in class. Not paying attention. As usual. I’m failing Science, Math and Drama. But nothing matters except the dance. Sally took a second look at me while she was walking to her locker, I guess she was shocked and confused. It made me happy to see her upset. But there was no one to express my emotions towards, I had no friends to begin with, so there was not a lot of talking involved. Steven wasn’t in school, how do I know? I walked past his classes about 25 times. I was either blind or her was not there. I’m pretty sure, he was not there. It didn’t seem to affect me as much I thought, because I got a lot of comments. Good ones. For once. I felt good. There has been only one thing that’s been bothering me. Since the morning and until lunch I haven’t been to the washroom. Whenever I go into the girl’s washroom, the stalls are always full. How will I be able to forcefully put a finger down my throat if there are no toilets available?
Semi-formal is exactly in 1 week. It has been fukkin’ hectic. I had to return my dress because I have lost tremendous amount of weight. When I went to the store, they didn’t have the dress in my size. In fact they didn’t have any dresses in my size. This made me feel bad. I wasn’t so sexy anymore. I was so skinny I could count and feel my bones, all over my body. My eyes are poppin’ out of my fukkin’ face. I have the lost the will to laugh and cry. It’s not about having a dress for the dance, but to feel good inside. Steven has been screwing Sally, that’s nothing new. She is the school’s mattress. But it’s not about Steven, but to feel good inside. But what is the most upsetting thing that has happened to me, over the 2 month period. I have been trying to gain back a few pounds, but it’s impossible! I hate my body. I feel like a fukkin’ bag of bones. I should not have changed the way I was. I should have realized when I was looking skinnier than planned. Now, I look hideous than imagined. My name is Anorexia Nervosa.