Day One
My new life was about to start. Everything has from the UK to the US had always been my dream and now I was here, living it. Walking to the door of my new apartment , I could feel the excitement building inside of me.
The dirty stained carpet that lined the halls had intricate patterns swirling and twisting.
Opening the door I saw the empty room. It was quite large. High alcoves contained the dusty remains of spiders webs. There was nothing in the room except from a dirty mirror. I walked over to it.
I could see my curly blonde hair - the highlights I had done myself. It stopped at my small sholders of which my pink shirt rested on. My tight jeans defined the slight curves my tiny body inhabited. My skin was pale and my arms were thin. I looked almost
healthy in the warm light radiating from the window,but I knew I wasn't - deep inside.
I was diagnosed with anorexia when I was thirteen. It had started out as a diet and quickly escalated into something much worse. My arms grew thinner and my waist smaller. I went to doctors and counsellors and slowly (only in the last six months)had
started to return to my usual self. I still hatedpeople watching me eat. Watching them as I absorbed the endless calories through every bite. But I could get through it. I had to.
Leaving the stained mirror behind me,I went down to collect my bags from the car.