Tora Tora Tora was originally written for the Obsession One-Shot Contest
Summary: Victoria's mind is flooded with darkness as she takes a trip down memory lane.
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Lyrics that inspired you:
I broke into your room, I broke down in my room
Touched your belongings and left a lock of my hair
Another sign for you
You screamed into my face, get the hell out of my place
Another sign for me, can you forgive me?
For not understanding your ways
~ Obsession ~ by: Siouxsie and the Banshees
Warning: The music told me what to write. This is rated M for a reason. The subject matter in this story may be a bit intense to some readers.
"Oh, Jimmy."
The clacking of her boots echoed off the walls like a heartbeat. The black fingernails of each hand were jagged, bitten so low she had drawn blood. Victoria ran them down the hallway. The textured paint made the tips sting in irritation as bits of the wall crumbled underneath and embedded themselves in her raw flesh.
.
.
Her head hit the wall with a thump. Yellow paint chips mixed in her hair. His hot breath on her neck made her shiver in anticipation, as his hands explored the eyelets of the silver corset she wore.
"Tora," James rumbled, using his pet name for her.
His body hovered over hers like a first kill. With eyes as wild as hurricanes and a body as untamed as the sea, he tasted the salt off Victoria's neck as she sucked in a gasp.
"Oh, Jimmy," she whimpered trying to thrust her body closer to his.
Sliding his beaten leather jacket off his shoulders, Victoria slipped her fingers inside the ripped holes of his dirty Sex Pistols shirt. Pawing the sides of his ribcage, she forced her body closer.
Taking control, James pinned her shoulders against the wall of the hallway as he covered her left breast with his hot mouth. Biting at the silk corset, he swirled his tongue lazily in small toying circles. Lolling her head back, Victoria licked her lips and lifted up her ruffled black miniskirt to her waist.
"Jimmy," she moaned out in a husky breath.
"Tora?" he muttered against her wet silk, looking up at her underneath his dark eyelashes.
Coaxing him down with silent instructions, James dropped to his knees. Panting, Victoria balanced herself on his shoulders while his tongue and teeth began to tease her through her lace panties, mixing his taste with her own while Victoria's long fingernails pierced into his flesh.
.
.
Pushing open the cracked bedroom door, Victoria entered the dim room with forceful steps. A tuxedo cat raised his head from an unmade bed and squint his amber eyes from sleep. Clothes were thrown carelessly on the floor. The miniblinds near the bed held signs that the cat had been forcing his body between them and the glass. Dust on the furniture covered any remaining trace that her fingertips might have marked in the past three weeks.
Victoria was being erased.
The abused clock radio on the nightstand clicked to the next minute as Victoria wrote, "Love Me Jimmy," in the dust with her finger.
The springs of the bed creaked underneath as she crawled on top. The tips of her breasts grazed the mattress as she pressed her face down to take in long greedy gulps of James' memory from last night. His scent filled the dark sheets with an earthy mixture of raw musk.
Lifting his pillow, which for some odd reason was now in the middle of the bed and not on the left side, she leaned back onto her heels and slowly nuzzled her cheek against it. Her eyelids fluttered, rolling back into her head as James' musk flooded her senses. A single blonde hair stood out on the material like an offering placed on an alter table. Plucking it, Victoria wrapped the light strand tightly around her middle finger, holding it in place with her thumb.
"Jimmy," she cooed into the pillow, "how long has it been since you've made love to me?"
Pushing her face further into his pillow she lightly kissed it, leaving a damp imprint behind. Tracing her tongue around the outline of her kiss she hiked the hem of her tea dress up, displaying a pair of tiny red panties.
"Touch me, Jimmy," Victoria ordered, as the finger with the single hair wrapped around her knuckle delved into her silk.
.
.
The pale light of morning painted the walls with a soft glow. Victoria curled herself into James' warm side. With the grace of a cat, she hiked a leg over him, straddling his sleeping form. His bare chest rose and fell in rhythmic time with each intake of breath in his deep sleep. Cautiously, she brushed her slender fingers over the gauze bandage that was taped across it. Her long black fingernails delicately slid underneath the medical tape that held the square bandage in place. She folded back a corner and unwrapped it from his skin.
Tora
Tora
Tora - in red ink was tattooed over his heart.
Victoria ran a finger over the rise of his tender flesh then up to James' lips. With fluttering eyes he awoke to find Victoria grinding back and forth on his shaft while tracing a finger over his mouth. She looked into his eyes with sparks of desire burning in her depths. In silence he placed one hand on her hip, another over her breast. As he rolled her nipple through her ribbed tank top, she let out a soft moan, aching to be touched. Taking the hand that grasped hold of her hip, Victoria sucked a single fingertip into her mouth. The warmth inside was enough to drive James insane. His erection throbbed and jerked as she ground her boy shorts over his boxers. In return he pinched her nipple back as she let out a quick gasp dropping his hand and leaving it free to pull off her shirt.
Her breasts heaved with a shuddering breath as James lifted himself up to take one into his mouth. Grazing his teeth over her hardened peak he ran his thumb inside the waistband of her shorts. Stretching the elastic he caressed the fine hair inside. Reaching down, Victoria inched the band lower in a silent plea.
"Take 'em off, Tora," James' voice came out in a strangled mumble.
Falling back on her haunches with her feet between James' legs, she teasingly slid the shorts down over her knees. Rising, she stood on the mattress letting them drop to her feet, and kicked them to the side. Her body glowed above James as he spotted her strawberry hair glistening wet with want between her legs.
Slowly, she lowered herself down, rolling curled fingertips underneath the elastic of his boxers. Raising his hips, Victoria inched them down and off his legs letting her bare breasts graze his hot skin. Placing hard kisses alongside his firm legs as she made her way up, she straddled his hips and ground herself back and forth along the length of his aching shaft.
"What is it you want, Jimmy?" she purred like a cat in heat, driving James over the edge with desire.
"Tora, Tora, Tora," he moaned and cupped her breast as she teased the tip of his head between her folds. "I always want you, Tora." He sucked in a breath as she covered him with her warm flesh.
.
.
Victoria thrashed her head from side to side, climaxing as soon as she lost the foreign hair inside her body. With a lazy grin she drew a 'V' on the dark pillow with her moistened finger. Opening her eyes wide enough to take in her surroundings, she was greeted nose to nose with the cat staring at her with curiosity. Sitting up, she took the animal into her arms, cradling him to her chest as she gently stroked his little black head.
"Did you miss your mama, Felix?"
Leaning down she kissed him between the ears and whispered, "Don't worry. She isn't going anywhere. Jimmy's wrong. He just hasn't realized it, yet. We'll make him see."
Sheltering the animal in her arms Victoria rose from the bed, passing the drawer that had once been hers. A drawer that should have held her dreams of 'I Do' outcomes and unborn children's laughter but instead it held rotting secrets and expired lies.
.
.
He tracked her with the intent of capturing his prey. Never had a desire so strong and demanding flooded his mind. The only thing he could think about was her lean body pinned beneath his own. The smoke in the bar covered the room like a thick morning fog as the patrons fell into laps or hid behind corners. The red in her hair was like spilled blood on a hunter's vest. Her locks were impossible to camouflage; standing out for all the world to see. James hungered to touch it, to fist his hands through her shirt, to knead her soft flesh. She was the hunted and he was the hunter. His favorite game was beginning.
Against the wall where the light bulbs flickered near the bathroom doors, Victoria slid her body around the corner. She noticed the blonde man in the knit cap and the fierce, electric blue eyes lurking near the bar. His gaze was so intense it branded her skin. She could almost feel his hot, heavy breath on the back of her neck when she closed her eyes.
Peering through a cloud of burning cigarettes, she nodded to the stranger and all but beckoned him to join her near the bulletin board of business cards and band flyers. It was like leading flies to honey. All too easy. All too tempting. Perhaps a bit dangerous but way too delicious.
The vodka in her stomach burned liquid confidence through her veins. Her hips moved to the beat of the music that was blasting out of the speakers as the local talent screamed into microphones. Slowly, the stranger placed a hand flat against the wall on each side of her head.
"What's your story?" He grinned looming over her 5'10" frame. The man had to be at least 6'5" to dwarf her.
"It isn't a long one." She winked as she slid her hands into his open flannel, grabbing hold of the material and pulling him closer. "Once upon a time," she started, "there was a fox that was untrappable. Not a soul could snare her until one day a man appeared in the mist. His mind was cunning; his body was just as agile. He was the perfect match against the creature. With a clicking of his tongue, the fox followed him further into the woods… trapped without a cage."
Victoria looked up into the blue eyes of the man and asked, "What's your name, stranger?"
"James."
"Funny, that's the same name of the hunter in my tale."
"Is that a fact?" He bent down and trailed his lips along her bare neck. She shivered as a heat wave of dark, rolling thunder stormed through her body.
"Why would I lie?" She exhaled a shaky breath as a strand of James' hair brushed against her cheek. He smelled like the earth: rich soil and ancient trees. The long metal chain attached to his wallet jingled as he spread his legs wider entrapping his catch inside his body's cage.
"What's your name, Red?" he asked as he ran a single finger through one of her scarlet locks.
"Victoria." She leaned up and pressed her lips to his. It was like tasting wildfires that burned inside his mouth, as lightening shot through her veins and into her blood.
"Tora, Tora, Tora," James murmured with a shallow breath. "Are you always so forceful?"
Looping her thumbs into the belt loops of his jeans she looked up under her eyelashes and pulled him even closer. "Only when I'm enjoying the hunt so much I can't help myself."
James made a low rumbled hum, "What makes you think you aren't the one being hunted?"
"Trust me, Jimmy," she whispered, her lips curled into a smile. "I'd know."
X – X – X – X - X
His key didn't click the lock free because the tumblers didn't move. The front door was already unlocked. James had no memory of leaving it like that this morning. Shrugging his shoulders, he walked inside the apartment and froze when he heard something that resembled the sound of water dripping.
Where was it coming from? Was there someone in the apartment with him?
James lived in an old building in the center of downtown. There was no doorman to get past, just a rusty metal wall of pocket-sized mailboxes and an ancient elevator that moved slower than an old woman.
Flattening himself to the wall he slipped down the hall.
Inside his mind he silently stuttered the only weapon he had hidden beneath his bed. An aluminum bat he saved from his childhood. It might not be much but it was better than showing up empty handed.
The room was just as he had left it: unorganized chaos. Clothes on the floor. Shoes in the corner. His ashtray full of smoked cigarettes, their filters crushed out. Nothing seemed to have been touched. He grabbed the bat.
~ Drip . . . Drip . . . Drip ~
There it was again. The sound of water hitting water.
His cat sat near the doorway of the adjoining bathroom, licking his white paw as James grabbed the bat from its hiding place.
Approaching the slightly cracked door James quietly pushed it wider with two fingers. The bat gripped tightly by his side. Unable to see himself in the mirror his image was blurred with fresh steam. Wet lines ran down the glass in a race to the edge.
~ Drip . . . Drip . . . Drip ~
Confusion clouded his mind. What kind of thief breaks into a place to hide in a tub of bathwater? What kind of careless psycho forgets to cover his tracks? It didn't matter. Someone was in here with him. He could hear their quiet breaths. Someone was playing a game.
Inhaling slow and deep he raised the bat back behind his shoulder glancing around to the corner of the tub.
~ Drip . . . Drip . . . Drip ~
The shower curtain was loosely pulled. Bright pink flamingos mixed in mildew stared back at him through their plastic cage while someone behind waited for him. He could feel it in his bones. But who?
James' pulse sped up as he took a shaky hand, pulling the thick curtain back. His ears were flooded with a bloodcurdling scream that filled the room as blood rushed into his ears like low-flying jets. The dripping water became roaring waves. A pink body thrashed frantically inside the tub like a fish out of water.
"Jimmy!" The panicked screams turned into words of exasperation. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"
His heart nearly jumped out of his throat. His hand clenched the bat that he held near his ear. How did Tora get in? Taking in the room he noticed a mound of clothing piled on top of the toilet seat. He'd been blind to them up until now.
"Tora," his voice was ragged as he lowered the bat letting the butt of it touch the tile floor with a clink. "Who let you in?"
Victoria eyed James' weapon of choice. Trying to catch her breath, she pulled a washcloth out of her bathwater. The drippings echoing off the walls.
"Tora, I was about to take your head off!" James' moaned in disbelief.
"Calm down, Jimmy." She held the washcloth to her forehead as though nothing had happened. "I didn't think you would mind if I stopped by." Victoria's place only had a shower stall and James' tub was one of the many perks of their relationship.
"Mind?" James couldn't quite wrap his head around why Victoria ... or even how Victoria... could let herself in to his apartment so easily. She didn't have a key. Not yet, anyway.
Eying the bat once more she shooed it away until James set it in the corner near the sink. "Jimmy, you really should get a safer lock. It wasn't that hard to get in here."
"You broke into my apartment then decided to use the tub? Why? Why not wait until I got home? Wait... who taught you how to do that?"
"Jimmy, Jimmy, Jimmy... a child could crack that lock. Really, you need to get a better one."
~ Drip . . . Drip . . . Drip ~
Victoria wrung out the washcloth and ran it through her fingers. A playful gleam twinkling in her eyes.
"Did I scare you?" she asked in an exaggerated baby-doll voice. "Did I scare the big hulking man with the big scary baseball bat? Were you going to teach me a lesson or two?" A mischievous grin started to spread on her face. Lifting her leg out of the bath she kicked water up at him.
"Tora." James rolled his eyes, his voice low in warning, "Don't..."
"Don't what, Jimmy?" Plunging her foot back in she kicked harder. "This?" Her laughter splashed off the dry walls.
His checkered Vans became submerged. Buckets of water overflowed onto the floor. The bottom of his shirt floated out from his skin as he pressed his body into hers, no longer caring how she got in, just that she was there.
"Tora," his voice a deep hum. "Don't tell me I didn't warn you."
X – X – X – X - X
Their naked bodies were entwined underneath a layer of thin blankets and sheets. The warmth between them grew hotter than a running furnace. Victoria stretched her body out in James' limp arms, jostling him awake.
"Morning," she sighed. His face pure pleasure. His body unbelievable delight.
Redressing in yesterday's clothes, James escorted her out to the elevator in the hall. "Tora, I'm going to get a key made for you," he said not wanting to repeat last night's adventure.
"Is that a fact?" She rocked back against his chest, pressing her backside into the zipper of his jeans.
Running his hands up her torso James' cupped her breasts, rubbing the pad of his thumb over a jutting nipple. "God, I love you," he breathed into her neck.
Tilting her head up she whispered, "I know," and crushed her mouth to his. Her soft tongue exploring his teeth. Claiming them with her taste buds.
"Is there anything else you might need over here?" He pulled back for just a split second.
Victoria lifted her arm behind her head; gently stroking the side of James' neck with her fingers. "A drawer would be nice."
"Tora, you can have the whole dresser." He smiled as he captured her lips.
While grinding into Victoria's backside, the elevator's doors screeched open like a horror movie. A thin, pale brunette strolled out, finger waving and giggling at James in greeting.
He froze.
Victoria watched the strange woman with her long chocolate hair swishing down her back make her way to an apartment down the hall. The bulge behind her grew firmer. So, that's what James wanted. Someone small and petite. Someone he could fit into the palm of his hand. Victoria never liked competition. She only liked to win. Tilting her head to the side she took note of her opponent.
X – X – X – X - X
Sucking in her gut, Victoria tried to pull it in even further. She couldn't get it to go in as deep as the brown-haired bitch from last week. Would she ever be able to look like her? James had nearly burst through his jeans when he saw her.
Limiting herself to only one meal a day, Victoria had managed to lose a grand total of three pounds. It wasn't nearly fast enough. The commercials for energy drinks, weight loss supplements, and diet pills whispered promises in her ear. But she was afraid. She was nervous that they would make her sick.
~ What to do next? ~
She started to run. Two months into running she had dropped a little under ten pounds. It still wasn't enough.
~ What's next? ~
Laxatives were next. The label on the box read "All natural vegetable oil". Vegetable oil couldn't hurt your body. Could it? She started out with three caplets and by the end of six weeks she was taking five every other day. But it still wasn't enough.
That's when she tried it. She had seen it in a movie on Lifetime. You just stick your finger down your throat and cough. It was that simple. Kneeling at her toilet she coughed with a knuckle against the bottom of her teeth.
~ What if you could just force yourself without having to gag? ~
Hesitantly she slid her finger further into her mouth. The wet walls of her mouth protesting. Slowly, she pushed it down towards her tongue. Her nerves were getting the best of her. Could she actually do it? Could she actually force the poptart she had just eaten back up? After several minutes that felt like years she jammed it into the back of her throat. Her neck convulsed. Her stomach tensed and tightened. Brown vomit poured out of her mouth and splashed into the water. Her hands shook and beads of sweat appeared on her forehead. How many more times could she force herself to do that in a day? Could she finally eat in front of Jimmy without a care and then just repeat what she had just done? She had to admit it was much quicker than laxatives and so much more discreet.
At least, that's what she told herself.
X – X – X – X - X
Months had passed and with every turn of the calendar's page Victoria's size became smaller. The clothes she kept at James' apartment hung off her frame like medals of victory.
James noticed. No matter how much Victoria thought she hid her secret little habit, he knew. He could taste the hint of vomit in her mouth after every meal. He could smell the rotting food she hid around the house. He wasn't blind. Her breasts we so flat she looked as though she was becoming a fourteen-year-old boy. Her hips stuck out like the hinges on a barn door. Bruises covered her thighs from where her legs rubbed against the bones as she slept. Her once well-manicured nails that she used to rake lustfully through his hair were so short now that they were caked in dried blood.
He noticed.
The way she looked at herself in the mirror, pinching her skin then sighing as though she would cry; the saved pictures on her laptop of women with their flesh stretched tightly across their bones; the browser history that she forgot to erase of remembered websites with disturbing information on how to stay thin. This wasn't his Tora. This was a living corpse.
"How much do you weigh, Tora?" James looked her frame up and down half expecting to see the protruding veins in her arms visibly pulse as her blood struggled to flow.
Victoria ignored him as she sat on the bed staring out the window as if she was alone in his room.
"When was the last time you ate?" He stood at the corner of his bed... Their bed. She turned her back to him.
"Don't..." she said softly.
"Don't what?"
"Just... don't, Jimmy. I don't want to hear it from you."
"Tora, you're sick."
"No, I'm not!" Venom was laced in her words. Her goal weight had not been met yet. She still could lose more. The skin around her neck sickened her. The backs of her arms were too soft. Her thighs were enormous. Her fingers like sausages. More could be shed and then she'd be perfect. Then Jimmy would only look at her and not at the chocolate haired tramp from down the hall.
"How much do you weigh, Tora?"
"Enough." She glanced up at the door and balled her fists. Defensive. Ready to sprint.
"Go get on the scale."
"No."
"Tora, please. Go get on the scale."
"NO!" she snapped then stood up. Trying to bolt past him, James caught her as she bounced off his chest. Victoria struggled, not wanting to get trapped as James wrapped his arms around her narrow waist, dragging her kicking and screaming into the bathroom. Squirming in his arms she slammed her head back into his lip, busting it open.
"Damn it, Tora! Stop!" He spit a rust-colored puddle onto the floor.
Standing on the scale he watched the dial settle on numbers that were too low for two grown adults. Numbers that should have been at least fifty pounds heavier.
He opened up his arms and she shot out. The dial spun counter clock-wise. He was speechless.
"110 pounds?" His voice got louder. "You weigh 110 pounds?" She wasn't listening to the words bellowing out of James' mouth. Instead she was frantically packing her drawer in a plastic bag.
"What are you doing?" James asked holding onto the sides of the bathroom door frame as she jammed her belongings in nice and tight.
"What does it look like, Jimmy? I don't have to put up with this!"
"Put up with what? Me showing concern? Tora... You're sick. You need help."
In Victoria's haste, a small box fell out: white with gold print.
Laxatives.
Her eyes went to the floor. For a second nobody breathed. Like a charging wild boar James' hands darted for the bag. Pushing her back like a house of cards he carried it to the unmade bed and dumped the contents out: diet pills, water pills, holiday candy she never ate but told him she had, little calorie counter guides, a journal, and clothes that were probably three sizes too big.
"Tora," James moaned, plunged his hands into his hair and pulled in frustration.
Victoria's emotional fence broke down. A wave of guilt slammed into her like a high tide. "Jimmy, you weren't supposed to find out."
Wrapping her up in his arms, she shook. Soaking his shirt with her tears, she sobbed.
Grazing his nose through her fine, rose-colored hair he whispered, "I'm going to get you better, Tora. I'm going to get you better."
.
.
"He wasn't supposed to find out," Victoria nuzzled Felix's black-and-white face. "I didn't mean to hurt him. Jimmy just doesn't understand how hard it is for me. Does he think I enjoy throwing up after every meal? Does he think I like how bad it tears my throat up? It's like fingernails clawing from the inside: making little blood trails to mark the way out. I know I promised him I'd stop but he just doesn't understand. I gained thirty pounds in that fat camp for him! I let them blow up my body with their sugar water. I watched as my fingers became sausages and my legs grew into tree trunks. And I also watched Jimmy. Does he think I never noticed him eye fucking that twelve-inch-waisted girl we saw at the elevator every damn morning? I knew he'd probably leave me for her sooner or later.
"And what does he do, Felix?" Victoria brought her lips to the cat's pointed ear and whispered, "That fucker wanted me out the moment I start to look just like her. Does that make any sense to you?" She stroked the feline's chin with her fingers then cupped the top of his head, flattening the ears of the cat, and thrusting it back so his eyes are peering into hers, her thumb pushed forcefully into his throat. "Does it?" She choked out a shriek.
Felix struggled in Victoria's grip, determined to get out of her arms. His hind legs twisted and a single claw tore into her flesh drawing blood, forcing Victoria to drop the animal and cover her wound with her hand. The sharp sting of the open flesh made her gasp. Sitting down on the cold toilet she started rocking back and forth as the cat scurried under the bed for safety.
.
.
It came out of nowhere. A guess... an observation... an almost tragedy. Her bones stuck out like Halloween, but it was only September.
"Tora." James found her on the floor. Her lips were covered in her own sick. Lifting her off the cold tile floor, he carried Victoria to the bed like a newborn. Gasping for breath with a phlegm-covered windpipe she struggled feebly to stand.
"Tora," James repeated her name louder than before. Victoria chose to ignore him. Choosing not to be scolded for what felt so right.
"Victoria!" He had her attention. "You told me you stopped."
She gurgled out a cough then rolled onto her side, away from him, her spine jutting out like the scales of a pre-historic fish.
James brushed his fingers through her hair. It was dyed the color of caked blood. The strands were as brittle as a scab. How had she deteriorated this much in front of his eyes? Had he not been looking? He had to have been blind when he told himself over and over it was just a few pounds and nothing more. No more ... Tora wouldn't hurt him again. Last year's rehab taught her to be strong. Didn't it?
Victoria spent three months of last year healing her damaged body while learning how to reprogram the way she saw herself... or so James thought. In treatment, she picked up tricks from girls who were thinner and had more confidence. Focusing on how to hide it better and how to get away with more, she became friends with black coffee. Victoria was even taught how to refocus her hunger pains with a sharp edge grazing her skin. The patients, of course, were never permitted sharp objects of any manner but it is amazing how sharp a bobby pin could become once snapped in two.
The forced feedings through tubes and machines were unstoppable. The clinic made sure the pounds were packed into Victoria's body so tightly she thought her skin would burst. The layered clothes that she hid under had to be shed for the next size up, but with her new wardrobe came the new promise of escape. And with a proper diet and dedication, Victoria could drop these new pounds as easily as a slap in the face. All it took was focus. A focus that she was so devoted to; she wasn't going to let anyone get in her way.
Keeping a journal of goal weights, calorie intakes, fats, and carbs she logged everything that entered her gut. She doodled self-portraits of herself. Her fat spilling over her inked jeans, her face bulging out like a bulldog. She reminded herself daily that Jimmy would love her more if his arms could get all the way around her instead of only halfway.
Victoria was becoming delusional.
James poured every penny he earned into Tora's recovery program. Her insurance told the facility that they would only pay for three days. An eating disorder is rarely considered a mental disability. James had watched Tora's weight dip so low he was positive that the coroner would sooner or later consider it a cause of death. For an entire season James took on extra shifts at the Ford plant, was a regular client to sell his plasma, and pawned nearly everything he owned of value including his antique '72 Harley Davidson XLCH 1000; all for Tora.
Released the weekend before Christmas, Victoria came out a full thirty pounds heavier. James had never seen her look so healthy. She had never felt so sick. Her fat covered her beautiful bones and the paleness of her skin that she had grown so fond of had turned back to an ugly shade of fleshy, piggy pink. Even her fingernails looked foreign. No longer were they jagged and blue but smooth and rosy just like her smooth round belly. She couldn't stand to look at herself in the mirror. She was repulsed when Jimmy would knead her full hips like dough.
Two weeks after graduating into the real world, James moved her completely into his apartment. Victoria regained focus with a New Year's resolution of new goals, weights, and smaller dress sizes. Her body had inflated from a perfect size zero to an enormous size four. Even the underwear she had felt so free in now spilled her shame over its elastic band. She didn't feel like her carefree self. Her yesteryear. No, Victoria felt like the Goodyear Blimp.
Victoria threw most of her meals down into the belly of the garbage disposal and what she happened to ingest she coughed into the toilet when James had his back turned. Diet pills were like candy, while exercise became more important than sex. Her beautiful bones ghosted under her skin once more. Excitement welled in the pit of her empty stomach.
On days when he would weigh her she would quickly gorge her stomach with a painful amount of water to swell her belly; blaming a lost pound here and there to the fact that the warmer it got the fewer clothes she had to wear. James always seemed to believe her.
James was becoming delusional.
He couldn't keep his hands off Tora's new curves. Her hips drove him wild while her dresses no longer hung off her like deflated parachutes. She had a body that could turn heads, a body she should be proud of, a body that wouldn't quit, and she was all his. No longer as fragile as a baby bird she was now strong enough to keep up with his everlasting need to press her tightly to him. A strong, firm woman. - HIS - The thought alone excited James.
But then today crashed down on him. Spring turned into summer. Summer fell into fall. And before the sun set for the day James found Victoria's lifeless on the bathroom floor in nothing but a pair of cotton panties. Her unbrushed sun-burned auburn hair covered her spine's reappearance but her naked ribcage made its second debut for all the world to see. Her body had now come full circle.
"Victoria," James gritted through clenched teeth, pinching her chin and pulling it towards him. "Look at me." He slowly bit out each syllable. "What have you done to yourself? Did you not learn that this..." he motioned up and down her thin frame, his one hand trembling as the other kept her looking at him, and pleaded, "can kill you?"
Jerking her head quickly, Victoria struggled to get her face out of James' grasp. "Leave me alone, Jimmy," she snapped while coughing to clear her sore windpipe. "You can't understand what it's like to see a stranger staring back at you in the mirror every day."
James let loose of her chin and stood, his hands tugging furiously at his scalp. "Tora, I'm staring at a stranger, right now. Why? Why do you insist on killing yourself? Do you want me to bury you before the end of next year?" She sat up and stared wide eyed at James through a haze of red. Fury shot through her body like a lightning storm. He wasn't supposed to find out. This was her little secret. - HERS -
"You have no right to tell me what to do, Jimmy." Her voice was harsh and scratchy.
"The hell I don't, Tora! Paying for that last batch of treatment was enough. I ... I... I can't believe you're reckless enough to put us more into debt and so selfish not to even see what it's doing to your body." James rounded the bed and sat on the mattress next to his girlfriend. With an exasperated sigh, he gently brushed her bangs out of her eyes. The same hair that was soaked in vomit. With a low voice and crusted strands of hair between his fingers he asked, "Do you not care what it might do to us?"
Victoria let out a frustrated scream, slapping James' hand away from her bangs and out of her face. "Stop!" she wailed at the top of her lungs while vaulting out of bed and racing towards the bathroom. Digging through the overcrowded drawer below the sink she pulled out a pair of scissors that hadn't been returned to the kitchen after being used to snip the top of a hair-dye bottle.
The reflection in the mirror was of Victoria breathing as hard as a cornered rabbit, with the scissors in one hand and the other grabbing at her throat. Her heart pounded so hard she thought she could pass out. Taking in thick gulps of air she focused on the glass willing James to show himself. As three heartbeats passed, Victoria raised the pointed blades to her head. She pressed the sharp ends against the delicate flesh of her temple, and waited. Drawing thin rivers of blood as it ran down her cheek she stood her ground.
"Tora." His image glided across the glass. "What are you doing?" Three more heartbeats pounded out of her chest and a ragged breath clamored out in a wheeze. The strands James stroked earlier were severed as the blades came together with a sharp snap. The vomit-stained hair fluttered to the floor. The room started spinning round and round and all she could hear was the roar of blood rushing inside her ears. Victoria's reflection shook like an earthquake then went as black as night. Her body collapsed, her chin barely grazing the counter top. The scissors she gripped fell to her side with a clink.
.
.
Digging her chipped nails into the cat inflicted wound Victoria forced the flesh wider apart until blood flowed steadily out of the slash.
"Felix, kitty kitty," she called between sobs of pain and anger. "Come here, baby." She clucked her tongue trying to coax the animal out of his hiding place with a soothing voice. Turning on the faucet over the bathroom sink she waited. The sound of the running stream flooded the cat's ears in delight and he appeared at her feet, springing onto the counter to lap at the offered stream. "That's a good boy," Victoria said softly as she pulled the plunger up to plug the sink. "That's a good boy."
.
.
Felix lapped greedily at the faucet. The water spilled out of the corners of his mouth as he flicked his tongue in and out. Victoria ran her fingers through the cat's short fur listening to each smack he made to quench what she considered a never-ending thirst. Faucet water must be like wine to cats. They could never get enough.
She tried not to look in the mirror that was in front of her. Her face seemed so round. Her cheeks felt so heavy. Victoria opened the medicine cabinet to rid herself of her dreaded reflection.
Three pounds. Only three pounds were shed in the past three weeks. Not fast enough. Not hardly. Things needed to work quicker if she was ever going to get back to where she was. Back to when she was happy. Back to when she felt beautiful and confident.
The water from the tap whistled. Felix jumped down, his belly full. Sloshing from side to side.
Victoria felt like the cat's round belly.
She missed her body's chill. She loathed staying warm and sweating during the middle of the night with James' body pressed against hers.
This little piggy needed to lose a little weight.
She couldn't stand looking down at her cankles. Where did the one stop and the other begin?
The lined rings that wrapped around her neck sickened her. Folds of fat. Folds and folds!
Victoria pinched at her belly. Her baby-doll tee just barely covered her breasts. She couldn't believe how big they had gotten. They reminded her of fat sacks. Swollen udders on a cow needing to be milked.
Who would want a body like this?
She slapped her thigh trying her best to leave a mark. It shook. It disgusted her to see the flesh shake back and forth in waves. For how long would it jiggle?
"I'm so sick of this," she whispered into the sink. Her body shivering not because of cold but because of pent up frustration. "I can't take it anymore." A tear escaped her eye and slid down her face. She never wanted to look at herself again. She wanted to shave layer after layer of herself off. Pound upon pound she wanted to pour down the drain.
Running her hand back over her belly she tugged at the shirt trying to smooth it and hide inside its material.
Smooth lips met the back of her neck, silencing her exploding mind for only a second.
"Tora," James breathed, and ran his nose up to the edge of her ear. His palms slid over her stomach and on top of her hands. "Don't think that way."
She was caught. She couldn't even hide anymore after moving in with him. Nowhere was her private sanctuary.
"You're beautiful just the way you are, Tora. Look at yourself." James leaned over her shoulder closing the door to the medicine cabinet with a click, their reflections greeting them in the glass.
"Look," he kissed her scarred temple. She smelled of raindrops and mountains. Fresh. New. "Look at yourself, Tora. Who do you see?"
Victoria rolled her eyes not wanting to play his head game. He always did this whenever he wanted her to feel good about herself. Always trying to dig her self-esteem out from hiding. It's been hidden too long to even care. Suffocated.
"Tora, do you know who I see?" She shook her head in silence closing her eyes so she wouldn't have to look at herself anymore.
The backs of his fingers lightly trailed down her neck as tingles shimmied under her skin. Letting loose a sigh, his warm breath hit behind her ear causing her insides to melt as his arms snaked and tightened around her.
The cotton of her shirt was so thin that it practically drove him insane with lust. You could see all the contours of her healthy shape. She was perfect. He didn't want to remember her bones.
Victoria was dressed in nothing but a pair of blue panties, a light brown long-sleeved baby-doll shirt, and a pair of long red-and-black striped socks that practically came to her kneecaps. Mornings were always James' favorite time of day. The clothes she slept in were good enough to eat.
"Tora, do you have any idea how beautiful you are? Do you have any idea what your body does to me?"
"No," Victoria's voice was soft and strangled. Her eyes opened to see the man behind her in the reflection of the glass. James gazed into her mirrored eyes.
"You're lying. How can you not know?"
She shook her head slowly from side to side. Not wanting him to continue.
"Tora, Tora, Tora. What am I going to do with you?" James said softly, tightening his arms that were wrapped around her.
She didn't respond.
"Tora." James slipped an earlobe into his mouth and tugged at it gently with his teeth in a playful attempt to get her attention. "There's nothing wrong with the way you look. You can't believe how good you look right now. It's about enough to drive a man insane."
Victoria looked down into the white sink. The water still running, loose cat hair clinging to the basin.
"Tora," almost pleading he asked. "Do you believe me?"
She looked up and spoke directly into the mirror replying, "No," in a deadpan voice.
Spreading her arms she forced James' grip to open and turned off the running faucet. Placing her hands on the edge of the sink she looked down. With gritted teeth she spit out, "No, James. How can this fat body be what you want when I always see you staring at 12 D's tight, perky ass every time she walks by? How do you expect me to believe you?" She raised her hands and sent them slamming down onto the porcelain.
.
.
TAP TAP - - TAP TAP - - TAP TAP
The cat's back claws clicked loudly on the sink as he frantically tried to come up for air. Water poured out of the faucet and into the overflowing basin as it waterfalled onto the floor. Victoria's hand was placed roughly on the cat's scruff holding him steady as he tried to thrash his body out from under her hold. A stream of bubbles trailed to the top of the water in a desperate effort to cry out for help. They fell upon deaf ears. Felix took in more and more water as his body grew slower, his weakened gargles coming out less and less.
Her frantic mind roared like a raging bull on collision with a matador's spear. Lights behind her eyes flickered like a dying comet's tail. Blinking out the darkness, recognition started to set in as she felt her hand squeeze tighter around the wet animal's neck.
Gasping, she let go.
The cat's heavy hind quarters drooped. It's weight forcing the animal to fall out and onto the floor with a sickening slap. Lifeless. His eyes remained open as a trail of blood oozed from out the corners.
"What have I done?" she choked out, staring down at the bloated pet on the floor.
"Jimmy!" she screamed, "Jimmy!" Her words echoed off the silent walls.
Where was he?
Reaching her hand out to turn off the flow of water, she froze. Her palm was the color of rust; caked in blood that had been there a while. But from what? . . . From where? . . . From who?
She left the tap running and stumbled into the bedroom; her body trembling like aftershocks from an earthquake. Holding onto the doorframe she noticed that everything she had touched matched the color of her stiff caked hands. A trail of dark footprints followed her around the room marking each place she had been. A gruesome map that led to where she was currently standing.
What happened?
"Jimmy!" she shouted. She felt as if her heart was about to pound out of her chest. In a panic, she ran through the door and down the hall not stopping till she slipped.
.
.
She sat at the table as though it was any ordinary day. Waiting. Once again the door was unlocked even though new ones were ordered weeks ago. The Super just never got around to checking James' locks off his list.
"Tora," the room was thick with tension. James' breathing increased to a panic when he noticed her in a chair mindlessly cutting off her hair lock by lock and letting it fall into a pile she was building on the dining room table. She seemed to be in her own little world as she softly hummed to herself.
"How was your day, Jimmy?" She spoke in a tone that only James would recognize. A secret voice she used when her world was too much to handle. This wasn't Tora. Just her sick mind speaking and trying to cope with her madness.
Her fingertips were bleeding from where she held her hair too close and nicked them with the blades as more and more hair was cut from her head.
"I told you, Tora. We're over." James broke off the relationship once she refused to get help for her disease. He hated himself for it but he couldn't deal with all her lies; everything she hid from him; all the food she spilled out of her mouth. It wasn't worth living a life that always set him on edge. She needed help and James needed his life back.
Victoria looked up and slowly scraped the blades down the side of her face to her chin leaving an angry red mark. "I told you, Jimmy. I can change."
James sucked in a breath. Not wanting to hear what she had to say. He could never stop loving her but she needed help. It wasn't healthy for the both of them to have to cling to each other. "Tora, we've been through this before. You need help."
"Then help me, Jimmy." She dragged the scissors across her neck and scratched the tips of them into the flesh above her collarbones. "J -I -" She started carving. Branding herself to him.
"Stop it, Tora!" James shouted. "Can't you see that you're sick? Who does that? Who?"
Victoria smiled up at him. "M-M"
With caution, James walked to the table. "Give me the scissors, Tora."
She continued to etch. "Y"
Finishing his name she grinned. "There, now the whole world will know that I belong to you and you belong to me." Her chest had pinpricks of red oozing out of her cuts sliding down her flat chest.
"Tora," James asked again, tears creeping in his throat. "Please, give me the scissors."
"What will you give me for them?"
Lunging for her chair, James' hand shot out to her wrist. Clenching his fingers around her thin bones he squeezed until Victoria let out a pathetic scream. Struggling to keep her grip on the handles, she wrestled to get out of the chair with James still attached to her body.
"Let go," he grunted through deep breaths not wanting to hurt her.
Stepping forward, James' legs knocked into the chair Victoria was sitting in. He stumbled to hold his footing; his balance was lost as she pulled further away. The blades she held pointed upright pierced into the soft flesh of his throat. He tumbled down onto her back. Dropping her to her knees a gush of blood jutted out of his neck. Skirting out from under him her feet were slick in the newly forming red pool. She darted across the room toward the direction of the hallway, while James' body thundered down onto the scuffed hardwoods, lodging the blades further into the skin of his throat.
Gasping to breathe, the blades were lodged into his jugular, a stream of warm blood gushed out around the cool metal. Blood gargled out of his mouth, spilling onto the floor in an attempt to scream. James' body shuddered and twitched. Each intake of air was a low-pitched wheeze that was getting harder and harder for him to release. It was like choking but slower. Panic raced through him as he struggled to pull the scissors out. His hands slipped in his own blood, trying to push himself up but landing harder down on the floor. Finally his fingers touched the plastic handles but all he could do was lightly run his fingers along the loops. The world around him went to black as he listened to Victoria's shoes shuffle further from him.
.
.
Victoria fell over James' corpse. His face was head down in a bath of crimson blood. Her dress was soaked and her knees were drenched. Rubbing her palms over the back of his shirt she tried to stir him as if he could just be asleep. His body had already gone stiff; the toxins inside him had started to release.
"Jimmy, wake up," she howled as she flipped him over. The scissors were still lodged where she had left them. His lips were clumped together from the blood that had dried. Tracing her finger along the edges she broke them apart. Fresh blood trickled out that in time would sew them back shut.
Victoria's mind went numb. She was beyond panic. Her body fell in on itself.
Leaning down she brushed her lips to his. Staining them with her own personal shade of James.
"Oh, Jimmy," she whispered as she rose. Her common sense told her to call for help. Her mind told her to retreat. She didn't want to fight. Jimmy would take care of this, she thought. Jimmy always took care of everything. She headed back from where she came.
The clacking of her boots echoed off the walls like a heartbeat. The black fingernails of each hand were jagged, bitten so low she had drawn blood. Victoria ran them down the hallway. The textured paint made the tips sting in irritation as bits of the wall crumbled underneath and embedded themselves in her raw flesh. Pushing open the cracked bedroom door, Victoria entered the dim room with forceful steps. A tuxedo cat raised his head from an unmade bed and squint his amber eyes from sleep. Clothes were thrown carelessly on the floor. The miniblinds near the bed held signs that the cat had been forcing his body between them and the glass. Dust on the furniture covered any remaining trace that her fingertips might have marked in the past three weeks.
Victoria was being erased.
A/N: I have a list of people I would like to thank who helped me through the process while writing "Tora Tora Tora".
Special thanks to my pet Erika who got to see the first paragraph of Tora on May 3rd. She was the first person to agree to help me wrangle up the ferrets and let me know which parts she thought could be mucked with, made better, didn't make sense, and disturbed her. I loves you for it dude! You made my self-confidence go 'Squee'.
Uber thanks to Arden8283 for being a marvelous beta and friend. She worked through three drafts of Tora w/o even a whimper and for that she deserves the biggest cookie I can bake. She helped me out with words when my brain was getting tongue tied, wrangled up ferrets, and totally put in a bunger-load of punctuation. Tora would have been a sloppy piece of gibberish if it wasn't for her. Thank you soo much Arden! You are the BBQ Sauce beneath my Chicken Wings!
Kisses and Hugs to the Lemon Sisters - onePushyFox and uhyesplease – for working their beta magic and putting the chocolate sprinkles and bubble gum cherry on top at the end of Tora's journey. I really appreciate everything you two have done for me.
Tiny little cat licks to Leila and sjAimee for pre-reading and soothing my nerves by letting me know that not everything needs to have a Katamari Rainbow or Care Bear waiting at the end.
Fist Pumps to all my Facebook friends that patted my back when I needed to vent when I thought that the world was coming down on me. I couldn't ask for better interweb buds.
And last but not least I would like to thank my husband, Willum, for putting up with all my mood swings, darkness, and tears through this entire process. Thanks for pre-reading and telling me your honest opinion. And thanks for understanding that I'm just not myself when I write one of these. Just remember, you're the one who put a ring on it hahas! xoxo
Before I go I would like to address that it is true that most insurance companies do not consider an eating disorder a mental disability and therefore skimp on treatment unless it comes out of your own pocket. The battle for these girls to get help is a hard road to go down and an even harder road to stay on. I hope that one day it will get easier.
To all the other writers who have entered the "Obsession One-Shot Contest", I wish all of you luck! Everyone has done such a swell job! It's so interesting to read the stories that were inspired by the same song. Good Luck Everyone!
