A/N: I've never written a chaptered story for this fandom before, so I'm kind of interested to see where this goes. Updates depend on my college schedule (I should be working on a thesis right now). Also, trigger warning for eating disorders. I am not endorsing anorexia in any way, shape, or form. I'm actually in recovery right now, but I thought it'd be interesting to explore the topic from Toph's POV.
Intake Form: Republic City Home for Troubled Youth
Name: Toph Bei Fong
Age: 17 years
Height: 4'11"
Weight: 82lbs
Case notes: Diagnosis anorexia nervosa. BMI stands at 16.6. Hospitalized on three separate occasions. Chronic. Insubordinate and unresponsive to traditional treatment.
You didn't do it on purpose, you say to anyone who will listen—read: no one. You're full of shit anyway. You absolutely, irrevocably meant to do it on purpose. And you'll keep doing it—they can't stop you. Nobody can stop you.
Not these doctors, with their cold, bony hands, poking and prodding you like a sow at market. Not the nurses, with their caustic voices and morbid warnings, telling you you're going to die.
Good, you say. You can only imagine what they scribble down on their notepads after that little revelation, as they ask question after question about your body image. They forget you don't even know what you look like.
Everything is touch. The protrusion of your ribs, the planes and sharp angles of your hips, every single knob of your spine. A mirror means nothing. Your hands are all the mirror you need.
