Disclaimer: I don't own this, its all JK Rowling's, so on and so forth
Author's note: I'm so excited to have this published! It's my first one ever though, so don't beat on me too bad. Please? :D
-x-
"Hermione?Were you just throwing up in there?"
"No, of course not mom."
"Oh. I thought I heard...never mind."
-x-
My heart is racing.
My head is spinning, I brace myself against the wall.
My hands shake.
I wipe my mouth, I smile.
My smile fades. It always does.
-x-
I wonder.
Don't be silly Hermione, don't be stupid.
I just want it to stop.
It won't work.
Then there's no harm in trying.
Just a little one.
I promise.
The razor's dull, anyway.
The toilet is cold.
Freezing.
My right hand slices my right thigh.
It doesn't hurt.
Not enough.
I do it again.
And again, and again, and again.
Still not enough.
Soon my thigh is crisscrossed with little trails of red.
Then my wrists.
The rest of my arms follow.
I try to get up.
I can't.
I cannot move.
No more energy.
-x-
No one likes you, Hermione.
Never good enough.
If only you were thin.
If only you were perfect.
If only you weren't so weak.
-x-
"I've never seen you eat, Hermione"
Neville means nothing by the comment.
Just an observation.
I smile out of pride.
"Oh Neville, of course you have! You just haven't been paying attention."
He shruggs it off.
If only he knew.