A long, long time ago, I used to like to play. I would bow, and sing, and speak in silly high-pitched voices and walk on my hands. I made myself the fool, class clown, ultimate joker. That was me. I enjoyed that role, though, because it was me, it was the me that was inside.
I've always been just a little bit fat. My dad told me stories about my mum, and about me. I was a very chubby baby, compared to the other babies. My mum had always been a little overweight as well, up until she died. I left a toy truck at the top of some stairs, and she slipped on it and fell, and broke her neck. I guess it's my fault she died. I don't think about that much, because I didn't know her very well, and now I have my step mother, Katie. Katie's got that tall, skinny model's build, dark skin and healthy, silky black hair. I have five half-siblings so far. Daniel, Amy, Michael, Jodie, Ian and Isaac. I'm the eldest by five whole years. I don't get any respect though. I guess respect isn't what I deserve.
I don't get respect from mum and dad either. Katie never did like fat people, I don't think. She's always giving me some rather rude hints that she wants me to lose some weight. I don't remember when my dad started telling me I could stand to cut down a few pounds. Because they were always telling me, and my siblings were always skinny and petite, the siblings started making fun of my weight as well. Fair enough, I thought. Maybe I should try lose a little weight.
The kids at Hogwarts were quite accepting, except for people like Jade or Mickey or Zephyr. They were bullies to most people though. I was in a dorm with some cool guys. David, who couldn't feel pain, Lucas, who was quiet and always hiding, Adam, who had a vile temper, Mickey, turned out to be a drug pusher, and Geoffrey, a Goth, plain and simple. We sort of saw each other as a family, and as the most mature ones, the Drostan twins were essentially the mum and dad. We decided Geoffrey was the mum because he wore make-up and had such long hair. He didn't mind.
I wasn't very successful on the diet and exercise front. I already had this great big blimp of a stomach, and I kept eating at mealtimes until I was full, and I dunno, I've always loved exercise but it's never lost me any weight while I've been eating. That's the problem. I tried loads of diets that didn't involve starving myself, and then I was getting desperate. I couldn't feel at home with my parents while I was this big. I was getting really self-conscious. And then there were people like Jade, who started teasing me for being camp (which is literally just the high voice I put on for jokes) and being fat, and apparently I'm a crybaby too. I admit, I faint at the sight of blood, but I wouldn't call myself a crybaby. And I'm definitely not gay just because I have that high voice. I have a girlfriend, and she's one of Jade's friends and all, so she should know.
I get more and more desperate. I feel like my family will forever reject me if I can't lose weight. I'm 16 now, and all I've done is get fatter, and I'm sad, although I mask it with my jokes. I'm miserable, and fat, and I want my parents to love me.
I gave up on all the diet and exercise. It wasn't working. I had no clue what to do, I just knew I had to lose the fat and fast. One day, on the weekend, I just stayed in my room all day, not daring to leave, go near the hall for breakfast, lunch or dinner. I was starving by the night. The only thing in my belly was water, after all, and my body didn't like that. It wanted something sweet and full of energy. I was craving chocolate and shortbread, candy floss and peppermint. But it was after hours and we all had to stay in our beds, so in bed I stayed, drinking all the water I could.
The next few days, I just fell into the habit of not eating. It was easier than I thought, although it hurt. It hurt a lot, but the hunger came and went, and I knew a few tricks to keep it at bay. Two teaspoons of vinegar in the morning, chew some ice cubes on the lead up to lunch, at dinner time climb up a tree and don't come down until you know dinner's over. Exercise is supposed to help, and if I stay up the tree I won't exactly have anything to eat. I usually tie my hair to a branch and think about my parents. That puts me off. I feel like I'll let them down.
After a while the pain fades, I can ignore it. I expect to feel good, but I don't. I'm thinner, but I still feel miserable, and tired, so very tired. I couldn't stop thinking about food, either. Tuna bake, fried mushrooms, roast chicken, strawberry laces, rich chocolate gateau...I shake my head, trying to clear it, but it won't clear. My girlfriend knows what I'm doing to myself, and I think that's the only reason she's putting up with my weird behaviour. Because she's concerned. She wants to help, but she doesn't know how, but making me eat isn't going to help. Roxie thinks it will, Lucas and Adam think it will, Angel thinks it will, but it won't. It will just make me fat again. Angel said it herself, when I start eating again the weight will pile back on like mad. I'll just gorge myself. I will start eating again eventually, of course. I just have to reach my target weight first. Then I have to starve a little longer, until my ribs are showing. That way, when I start eating again the weight won't go up too fast, and I think at first I'll try only eating carrot sticks. And even then, only one meal a day. I have to carefully wean myself back on. I have to or I'll be fat and miserable again!
And now the ribs begin to show and I feel I can hardly move. Just a little more, I tell myself. I feel weak and sick, and I've only been awake half an hour and already I'm exhausted. I can see my ribs when I lift my shirt, but it still isn't enough. I feel like I'm going to pass out. The room is spinning. I hear my stomach growl, a desperate beg for fuel. My breathing is shallow and fast, I can't control it and now my chest hurts and I feel so faint. I want to look the absolute best for when I get home, but this isn't right. My ribs are poking out and I'm still refusing food. Not even carrot sticks are making it past my lips. My brother Danny sent a letter home a while back, telling mum and dad what I was doing, and what they sent me in response made me sure they didn't take it seriously. They don't think they could have an anorexic son. No, that's a girls' thing, they swear. I should stop seeking attention. I'm losing the weight they've always wanted me to lose, and Danny and Amy, I look at them and I can see they're terrified because of how thin I've gotten, but I still think it isn't enough. Just a little thinner. I cough into my fist and that seems to do it for me. I collapse onto my bed. I'm pale, and so cold, and so tired. My whole body aches, but I tell myself it's all for the best, it's all for the best. It's like when a caterpillar goes into a cocoon, and then comes out a butterfly. I'm making myself look good. Better. For all good things in life, you have to pay the price, and this is the price I have to pay to look decent, for my parents to accept me. I drag my hand across the top of my head, groaning. It all hurts. Hair comes loose, into my hand. I groan again. Just a little longer. Hold out a little longer, Alexis. It'll all be good in the end. The longer you hold out, the more pleasurable the prize at the end will be. The more wonderful it will be to have something in your stupid fat stomach again. Still fat. Still fat. Still too big. Lose a little more weight. Lose a little more, just a little more, and you'll be perfect.
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