**(Whoa, exactly a week.) I'm completely determined to keep up with my promise for this story. So here's the next chapter! Hope you like it. The next chapter might (will probably) take longer. Odd ending (tired, wrote this in an hour) but I couldn't find another way to end it. It's okay though...right?
Summary: Konoha; a camp for troubled teens. A rape victim that's suicidal, a violent boy with anger problems, and a girl with an eating disorder, anorexia. Is it possible to become friends?
**Note: I'm making an estimate that she's 5 foot 5 inches (average height) or about 161 cenimeters. The average weight, according to BMI, is between 111 pounds to 149.5 pounds. (Sorry, I have to use pounds because I don't know kilograms…the other weight measurement is kilograms, right?) And her weight is 100 pounds, which is severely underweight according to BMI.
And I don't support anorexia, but it really isn't the person's fault. It's more of a mental thing that can't be helped (or there's pro-ana where they choose it as a lifestyle, though that's their choice). I'm just saying it as how I think it's like.
Chapter 2 —Sakura—
She stared at herself in the mirror. Skin and bones, but in her mind, the scrawny, malnourished body only portrayed the utter disgust she felt racing through her mind. Her thighs were not proportional, too big for her scrawny arms, yet her shoulders were too wide for her perfect body, and her stomach bulging, a huge lump of flesh just taunting her.
Fat.
Hideous.
Disgusting.
Tears streamed down her face. 'Go away!' she yelled to the voices in her mind. She clamped her hands around her ears in horror and curled up into a ball.
No one would ever love you, you're so…ugh!
Look at you, so gross.
Ew, I don't want to be near this thing.
Ugh. How can you live with yourself? I guess you wouldn't care though, all you think about is food, huh?
The voices only seemed to grow louder, echoing through her head, pounding in her ears. She could see blurry faces, past bullies, the people who taunted her.
Ugly!
Repulsive!
The words shot out continuously, without end. 'Stop! Please, stop!' She sobbed loudly.
She woke up, her growling stomach waking her. She could feel a strange, burning sensation from the lack of food. Routinely, she ignored her, opting to take a shower instead. She picked out an outfit that concealed her figure, taking it with her to the bathroom.
The water was turned on, and the room slowly filled with steam, clinging to the mirrors and filling her lungs in almost a suffocating manner. Half an hour later, she stepped out, the once hot water already cold.
Her eyes caught the mirror, and she couldn't help but stare at herself angrily. Pinching the slight, barely there fat on her thighs, sucking in her stomach and imagining what it would be like when it was gone.
'Just five—no…ten more pounds. I would look so much better.'
Before dressing, she stepped onto the scale. The numbers twirled around and around, before finally settling on a single number. She checked three times. Every time, it was the same number. 99.5. She was a bit elated, she had shed a little bit of it, but the temporary high crashed quickly. She still had so far to go. With the recent progress, it would take forever. She would be stuck in that ugly body forever.
She finally got dressed, wearing multiple layers despite the fact that it was getting warmer. Going down to the kitchen, she was relieved to find a note from her mom saying that she had left early. She hated making her mom worry, and this way she wouldn't have to lie about eating.
Looking around, she noticed a big jar of umeboshi (plums), her favorite food. Her stomach growled more eagerly, but she ignored it in favor of a cup of water.
It settled the hunger pangs slightly, though she could still feel a little.
'The hunger is a good thing. I have to fight it. If I give in, I'm giving up everything I worked for.'
Another cup of water later and she grabbed her bag and headed off for school. Almost out of habit, she smiled and greeted her friends, chattering aimlessly about random topics. How horrible their teacher was for giving them so much homework last night. Or those cute shoes she saw on sale just the day before. The whole time, her thoughts focused only on one thing. Food. She craved it so much. But she knew why she couldn't give in. She obsessed over ideas on how to avoid a meal, or reduce the calories of dinner.
At lunch, she managed to convince her friends that her stomach felt bad. And coincidentally, her best friend suffered a harsh breakup, so she used that to her advantage by giving all her energy to comfort her. Everyone else was occupied by the drama that they quickly forgot about her eating habits.
On the walk back home, she ended up strangely out of breath when she finally stumbled into the house. Some more water and some peppermint gum to control the cravings. She then logged onto the computer.
Pictures of gorgeous models plastered all over her desktop background. Search after search of foods that could fill her stomach more while having little to no calories, or ways to dress thinner. Searches of models, her eyes glued to their thin bodies, feeling a burning jealously of how she couldn't be that way too. Exercise plans, looking for ways to work out that helps loose the most calories.
She went out for a quick run, that slowly melted from the planned thirty minutes to an hour, and then another, and then it was three hours before she made it home. Panting, feeling like she was going to faint, but feeling so successful and happy that she managed half an hour more than yesterday.
Her eyes caught onto the floor, noticing strand after strand of pink hair. Her hair had been falling out more than usual lately, but she just pulled out the vacuum and cleaned it up really easily.
Sleep took longer and longer every day. She couldn't seem to get pulled into the sweet unconsciousness like she used to. Her mind whirled, trying to plan out what kinds of food she could eat the next morning. Her hand pressed against her stomach, and she whimpered slightly. A moment of weakness.
'Why have I become like this?'
She slipped into the kitchen, staring at the umeboshi. She wanted to reach over and just eat it all, to just let go and stop worrying. She wanted to force herself to eat everything, but it was like something was blocking her from it, and she couldn't even bear to touch the container. She was so scared.
When had it become like this? When she couldn't even make herself eat? When she couldn't remember the last time when she had truly been happy, instead of so obsessed over food that she couldn't even think of anything else?
Why had she changed? It was only supposed to be five pounds at first. But the thrill of the loss, she craved it. Loved it. The five became ten, then fifteen, then twenty. And now, she didn't think she could stop. And she was terrified.
'Please, I need help.'
No one could help anymore. No one would understand. She felt lost. She didn't feel like herself anymore. Anorexia had become such a huge part of her life, she didn't know who she was without it. She went back upstairs, not noticing the tears in her eyes. Not noticing that, before she had even tried, she had given up.
She missed it. The carefree feeling, the times when she had never cared about the food she ate, the way she looked. When she was little, so little, that she didn't understand what society thought was beautiful. When she was little, going around, proclaiming everyone was gorgeous just to see the bright smiles on their faces, the happy tears in their eyes.
She missed her old naivety. The joys of being a child.
She could never be the same again.
Today: 3/17/11
