I am alive. I'm actually working on a really long fic that I will finish :)

This story is M because I don't want to upset any younguns or anything.

I do not claim to understand the situation. I only have a brief outsider's view. Please do not be offended.

Behind the solid glass I stand like an elephant. Heavy thighs ripple with cellulite; unsightly lumps decorate trunk like legs. Arms jiggle as I raise them above my head. Loose, flabby skin hangs like a baggy flesh coloured coat. I'm disgusting.

On the other side stands a small girl. Legs like twigs, shaped by the contours of her angular bones and tendons. Matchstick arms shakily rise above the girl's head. There is nothing upon the bones, hardly any muscle only dry skin.

"You're ugly"

I turn my face away from the glass, too pained by the crass words to meet the gaze of the other girl. I shouldn't be this fat. I could control it if I tried harder; if I didn't stuff my face with fatty foods at ever opportunity. If I exercised more like I was meant to. I really am a failure. I really was ugly. Finally I lift my green eyed gaze to meet my opposite. Her name is Anna, she's ethereal. She's always been there for me, taunting me silently with her unreachable perfection.

"I want to be skinny"

The corners of Anna's mouth lifted slightly, muscle flexion betraying her smugness. Being thin was being beautiful. Tiny and fragile, it's perfection. Sprite like. Child like. If the cow wanted to be beautiful she'd have to work hard. The girl wouldn't stop until perfection was reached.

I want to be that girl. The girl with tight skin stretched across a delicate skeletal frame. She looks so innocent, so breakable. I want to be the china doll. When I was small I was tiny like her; so ignorant of pains of adulthood. The girl's sunken eyes gleamed wickedly. Anna was so beautiful.

I hated growing up. I hate the fat that covers my body like a cage- trapping the real me underneath. I hate these breasts; fatty lumps that weigh me down- make me look like my mother. I'm still a child. I'm not ready to look like this. But, that girl she looks so perfect.

"If you ate less you'd be beautiful" she reminds me.

"I know"

Eyes as deep as ancient lakes pierce into the fat girl. The beautiful, fragile, elf like child puts her hand to the glass. Bony fingers tap at the pane: sharp nails clinking against the solid surface. The hippo returns the gesture; podgy fingers making the child's look tiny and delicate.

"Hate yourself. Love hunger; love the control. Make yourself beautiful, only then can you love yourself"

I blink stupidly at her advice.

Love the control. I could control myself. I could stop myself eating whenever I wanted, I could perfect myself without any body else's help. I could achieve something on my own- prove to them that I am strong enough.

Yes, I could love the hunger. The reward I gain from controlling myself. A sign that I'm becoming beautiful. Each pang would remind me of my goal, of my progress. The child was right again.

She's always right.

I wish the others could see her. She's so beautiful. They always tell me I'm not fat; I know they're lying. They can't see her, they can't compare us.

The lardy girl stared enviously at her companion, taking in hollowed cheeks. High cheek bones made green eyes appear sunken. They dully glittered, hooded by drooping eyelids. Thin pink hair hung limply framing her angular face like a ruddy halo. She was all the fat girl had ever wanted to be.

"Beautiful" she stated, jealously lacing her voice like poison.

The fat girl turned away from the mirror-defeated- slumping onto her bed. Hands beat the duvet softly as she poured her rage through her clenched fists. She whimpered slightly as a tiny ankle struck the sharp edge of her bedside table.

Her ribs protruded as her chest rose and fell heavily from her exertion. Thin arms pinched sallow skin before the fat girl rolled over onto her front. Silently she cried; noiseless sobs causing her jutting vertebrae to convulse like a fitful snake before she fell into a restless sleep.

Tomorrow the fat girl would wake up and face the waif in the mirror again. Tomorrow the girl would be tormented by her own obesity. Tomorrow the mirror girl would sew the seeds of deceit; weaving a complex fallacy that controlled Sakura's life obsessively.

She'd always deny it. Anna was her friend; the only one who'd tell her truth. The only person she could trust. Anna had always been with her- that nagging feeling at the back of her mind telling her not to go too far; to keep her wits about her.

Anna had been loyal- she'd stopped Sakura losing control of her actions. Anna was cool and calculating. She only had one goal, a vision unclouded by distraction. Anna was perfection. Sakura could only strive to be more like her.

Sakura would kill to be more like Anna.

And Anna was killing her.

Together they would organise Sakura's life. They would bring it back to her; bind it tightly to her so she could feel safe again. Sakura was sure she could stop Anna when ever she wanted. She was so sure she could look after herself; the other girl was just giving her a nudge along the way. Anna could easily be impeded by Sakura

But Sakura didn't control anorexia.

Anorexia controlled her.

Yes, Anna is the embodiment of the condition Anorexia Nervosa. I do not have the condition I do not pretend to begin to comprehend what suffer's feel.

Sakura's based on a girl who hated growing up. She developed the condition to try and reverse the ageing process and turn herself into a child again. (Symtons of the condition include loss of menstrual period as well as weight; really reverting to a child like form)

Many suffers believe that Anorexia or similar conditions are not uncontrollable; on the contrary enable them to seize control over their own lifes to organise it and run it in a manner they want. This is similar for Sakura in this ficlet; only she does not have the grasp on the condition that some have.

Thanks again. R&R for feedback.