Warning: This story contains the very serious and touchy subjects of eating disorders and cutting, just so that you are aware of what you are getting into.

I wish I had a twin. An invisible twin, one that could sit here silently and wolf down the hot meal that my Mother has specially prepared, just for me, because she knows my secret. She knows I am not eating.

We haven't really talked too much about it. But based on what she has told me, I know enough to know that she does not understand. She claims I have nothing to worry about. That food will not affect my weight in any manner at this stage of my life. She is wrong. She is a liar. The mirror's story does not match what everyone else says. And who better than to believe than something that actually shows me what I truly look like? My Mother is family. Of course I'm beautiful to her.

Besides, the mirror cannot lie. My Mother is just stupid. She's huge as it is—what does she know about being skinny? And she says it's Hannah's fault. That hanging around celebrities all the time has taken a toll on me. According to her, if I don't start eating, I can't 'be around Hannah anymore.'

It's not my fault Hannah is skinny. And pretty. Does it get to me? Heck, yeah, it does! I want to be pretty. I want people to cheer for me and ask for my autograph, and I want to receive awards and trophies just for being gorgeous and able to sing.

And I want hot celebrities like Jake Ryan to fall in love with me. I want to be in the limelight. I want a lot of things. But mostly, I want to be skinny.

"Eat, Lilly." My Mother whispers.

I almost feel guilty, because she prepared a special meal of all my favorites. Everyone else ate, and since I didn't, she went through the trouble to cook a second time. Just to see me eat.

"I'm not hungry." I lie.

In reality, my stomach grumbles. I'm so hungry, I could eat…wait. I'm not going to finish that sentence.

"You haven't eaten all day." My Mother points out.

"Well I haven't been hungry." I tell her.

"Lilly, please eat."

"No."

"Lilly!"

"Maybe one bite."

"Maybe the whole plate."

I sigh, slowly picking up my fork. The food looks great and disgusting at the exact same time. I want to eat it, because I am hungry. I want to refuse it too, because then I cannot gain weight.

My Mother takes a seat across from me, waiting for me to take a bite. Waiting for me to eat the entire plate. Tears press at the back of my eyes. I can't believe she is making me do this! What kind of Mother is she?

"Mom, I'm really not hungry!" I cry.

"Lilly, you're not fat." My Mom says quietly, "You are hungry, and you are going to eat. So you won't be weak."

I look down at my lap, because I know that her eyes are glued to me with one of those looks that only come from a Mother.

I hate my Mother.