Untitled

by KeepFlying

This is more personal than anything else, and was inspired by the novel Wintergirls. Rated T for no other reason than content involving anorexia- which should be assumed if you're reading a Wintergirls fanfiction. Oneshot. Written in the hours just before night turns to morning; when I let my monsters come out and play.

Ana is singing softly in the kitchen when I creep down from my room. A thin soprano that somehow bounces off the cabinets, some nonsensical noise about power and control. She sounds like an angel and looks like death. A ghost of perfection. Her hollow eyes hold the soft green hues that I see in the mirror. The rest of her could not look any more different from my own sickly state. She turns on her bare heels, alerted by my heavy shuffle when she's accustomed to her own feather tread.

"What are you doing here," she hisses, suddenly hostile. The question tugs at my insides and twists my empty stomach into knots. My stomach gurgles. She narrows her hollow eyes. "I…Ana, I was-"

"Making tea, I hope," she cuts me off. "Piping hot. Green of course," she murmurs, and pours me a mug of water I don't remember boiling. My fingers wrap around the hot ceramic. Seeking warmth. Ana plops in the bag of herbs.

"Zero calories. Beneficial to skin. Hydrating to the body-" she rambles on about every possible health outcome that could ever result from a couple of dried leaves. Zero calories. Zero calories. Zero calories. Zero calories. The phrase plays over and over. A busted record.

"You should sleep, sweetie," Ana hums and strokes my brittle hair with bony fingers. "Can't," my eyes find the floor. Ana wraps her cool arms around my waist, hugs me from behind. "My darling," she purrs, "hush," her breath is icy. Frothy with cold. Her chin points into my shoulders. The pressure hurts. I feel squeamish. Empty. Always empty.

"Okay. I'll head back upstairs. Whatever you want me to do, An," A yawn leaks out of my mouth. "That's what I thought," she sighs. Gentle. "Don't let me find you down here again," her words are soft but her intentions are firm. I nod at her words. Silent agreement. Lifelong servitude to my best friend, to my love. She'll help me, after all. All I need to do is listen.

I shuffle back up to bed, lightheaded with a protesting gut. Starve starve starve...Ana's words are in my head again. Back-stronger than ever. Her tone is icy but affectionate. Gnarly but gentle. Hissing in every little goddamn thought.

"My darling, I never left,"

You've hardly gotten to know me."