Everyone in the apartment is asleep. Everyone except me. I slide out of bed, my bones cracking and groaning as I move. I go into the back bedroom and look on my phone for my schedule. 100 jumping jacks, 90 Russian twists, 45 crunches, and so on. I do every list on my phone until I can't breathe. My lungs scream for oxygen as I hold onto the edge of the bedframe for balance.
Do aerobics until you faint...being thin and not eating are signs of true will power and success…
The inspirational voices repeat themselves in my head. Gotta keep going. Always. Keep. Going. You don't stop, because, once you jump into the snow, you feel the numbness and you just don't want that to go away. You just want it to be stronger and more and more intense. Until you're made of nothing but toothpicks and wax. One wrong move, and you fall apart…
I open my eyes and realise I'm lying on the disgusting carpet caked with dirt and dust and Play-Doh. I passed out. That never happens to me. I look at my phone and realise it's 2:00 AM. I passed out for three hours. Ivorie needs some sleep. I take 4 magic pills and collapse on my bed. Dreams and visions of purity and perfection marinate in my head; it simmers on low, to last all night and the next day.
My eyes open again and I realise it's now August. School starts in a month. Damn it. I hate high school. I groan and realise it's my birthday in a few days. I hate cake, and I hate the festivities my Mother creates and the extents she goes to to avoid me seeing my Father. I remember when I would transport for him. Made a lot of money, and hilariously enough, no one knows about his sales other than my friends who are good customers.
I roll out of bed and put on black skinny jeans and my The Doors shirt. I take my bandana and tie my hair up; too lazy to brush it. I peek into my closet to see my only shoes; my rotten old chucks. My favourite shoes, in fact, the only ones I'll wear. I slip them on, unfolding the necks so the hide my ankles. I wrap the bottoms in one more roll of duct tape, and do a walk test. I remember when I got these shoes.
It was the beginning of seventh grade, and I was with my Father. He finally got enough money, and we were walking through the thrift shop. I looked at all the shoes, and saw these chucks. Then we bought them and went to get ice cream (180,) but of course I said I was vegan. My thighs never met, they were barely there since sixth grade. I was somewhat happy, and somewhat had friends, but then they started noticing. I had to do what I had to do- get rid of the cops and be alone.
It's actually better, because no one can stop you or tell you what you can and can't do, and you also get things done faster. It's more productive. I don't need morons stopping me from soaring.
I shake my head, and try to stop thinking. My head spins and I don't know where I am. I get a chill, my limbs shaking and my teeth chattering. It starts to flurry around in my small little room, ice crackling on the window. I try to lift my foot to walk, but it's frozen into the ice. My head spins faster and faster and faster and-