Author's note: Hey there! So er, this is my first fanfiction. I hope you enjoy it. I don't own Friends etc etc
(I'm a terrible person for writing this.) Just as a note, I do have experience with this kind of thing…not bulimia exactly but I do make myself throw up after eating (on that note, pls don't do it! It can damage you. Seek help if you do or if you believe you have any kind of eating disorder.)
Anyway, on with the story…
It was just a bad habit.
That's what she told herself at least, lots of people had them. Granted not many people had a habit that could potentially kill them or cause serious damage, but she wasn't going to think about that. Not now.
She checked for the tenth time that the apartment was empty. It was a routine easy enough to get back into.
A click of the lock.
A sigh.
Fingers forced down her throat.
It took longer to work than she remembered. Of course that was a long time ago and it was only recently she'd resorted to old methods.
Flashback
It was the day after thanksgiving, Monica's worst thanksgiving so far.
Normally she'd be thrilled. Normally she'd wake up early and rush down to start on the leftovers. Her mother always cooked too much on thanksgiving.
But not today. No. She'd be good. She'd show Chandler, and everyone else. She could be thin.
She could hear her brother in the living room, playing records, trying to impress Rachel. Monica sighed as he rambled on about The Smiths, putting on yet another album.
Last night I dreamt that somebody loved me
Chandler passed where she sat on the stairs, not even acknowledging her.
No hope - but no harm, just another false alarm
"Hey Chandler, have you seen Mon?" She could hear Ross asked.
"She's on the stairs. Hard to miss her" Laughter.
"Hey man, stop"
Silence.
Last night I felt, real arms around me
She'd show him alright. She couldn't believe for a second she'd liked him.
She still did if she was being completely honest.
No hope - no harm, just another false alarm
So, tell me how long, before the last one?
She barely heard her mother telling her they were going to drop Rachel off home, and Ross and Chandler were going to a friend's house so would she be ok?
Of course she would.
The door shut and finally she was alone.
Monica walked into the kitchen. The fridge was still full of leftovers and it all looked so good.
No, she couldn't.
Instead she helped herself to an apple.
It didn't fill her up as much as she'd hoped. A tiny slice of pie couldn't hurt could it? It was practically lunch time anyway.
Before she knew it, she'd gone through about a quarter of pie.
She stood there horrified. She was weak. Weak and pathetic. No wonder she was alone. No wonder she was fat.
She had an idea.
She looked through the medicine cabinet looking. She had overheard her father mentioning something about laxatives a few weeks ago. She wasn't entirely sure they would work the way she wanted but it was better than nothing.
They weren't there.
The cabinet was empty apart from plasters and a couple of bottles of painkillers.
That wasn't the only way to get rid of food.
She couldn't believe she was considering this.
She walked to the bathroom. No one would be home for a while. Anxiously she pushed two fingers down her throat. It made her gag but nothing came up.
It took a few tries but finally it worked. She smiled.
Maybe eating wasn't the end of the world after all.
End flashback
She didn't know what exactly it was that made her start that again. Maybe it was the fact she'd gained a little weight recently, a few pounds. It was nothing really but it annoyed her. She knew how easy it was to slip up and weight to rocket.
She also knew how easy it could be to lose it.
I won't do it forever she told herself, I just need to lose a few more pounds.
