****Hello everyone! I am soooooo sorry for not posting for such a long time! My teachers pile on wayy too much homework and I'm failing science, so i want to bring my grade up. So anyways, to make it up to you, i am posting TWO chapters today! (I have nothing better to do anyway, since my best friend made me sick. Wash your hands everyone!)

This is in Rosalie's POV and remember...she is British. This also takes place during season 13 and the month is July.

Enjoy and REVIEW!

WARNING: there is a bulimia scene which can be triggering. If you get squimish by scenes like this, do not read.

your reviews are in chapter 3!

Chapter 4:

My alarm blares on the night stand beside my bed. I quickly pressed the Snooze button. I look over and Mom is next to me sleeping. I sigh and make sure the alarm is fully turned off. I need to get up to go on my run, but my energy was lacking. I sat up and my head felt light. Also, my stomach felt unsettled. I shoved the bed covers off and stood up. They feel unsteady. I nearly fall, but was able to catch myself. I have to be quiet. I don't want to wake Mom up. I swallowed hard, my head feeling even lighter. My hands and feet felt cold and numb, but I ignored that as I quickly got out of my pajamas and pulled on a tank top and athletic sweats. I trudged out of my bedroom and towards the kitchen. I began to see spots in my eyes. I better eat something. This doesn't feel good. I go to the refrigerator and open the door. I look around.

Macaroni and Cheese: 493 calories.

Chocolate Cake: 367 calories.

Everything over 100 calories!

Except...a red apple. Only 53 calories. I deal with it and grab the apple with a shaky hand. My vision gets splotchy with black. I take a bite of the fruit and swallow. I keep chewing on it, gaining some of my sense back. Wow...I could have passed out. At least I ate something.

"What are you doing to yourself, Rosalie?" I thought, before whispering, "I don't know,"

I shake myself out my thought and throw the half-eaten apple away. I pull on my running shoes, grab a water bottle and quietly left the apartment.

*S*V*U*

I had lost control. As I stood in the kitchen, my stomach too full and empty food containers lying about, I couldn't figure out how I let myself lose control. Tears streamed down my face as I realized what I had done.

I had to get rid of it! I couldn't let myself gain weight! I was doing so well! Why? Why? I ran into the bathroom, and lifted the lid to the toilet. I knelt down in front of it and tried to get myself to throw up. Nothing worked. Ugh, looks like I'll have to force it up. I took two fingers and put them to the back of my mouth. I pressed down on her tongue, and began gagging. Nothing came up though. I have to try again. I can't let these horrible calories stay in my stomach. I have to go further. I jammed my fingers toward the back of my mouth again. My stomach lurched and I pulled my fingers out of my mouth as I began to throw up. The bile burned the back of my throat. I felt terrible. There was still more though. I had to get rid of it. I repeated the same action and got rid of all of the food.

I flushed the toilet with my clean hand. I forced herself to stand, my head throbbing. I looked in the mirror as I washed my hands. My face was red and my eyes were bloodshot. I left the bathroom when I was done, my head throbbing and my body exhausted. My throat was raw and burning, but my stomach felt emptier, better, and that was all that seemed to matter. I smiled. I can get used to this.