Author's Warning: There may be some physically disturbing elements in this
chapter.
After a bit more hugging and crying, Mrs. McGuire left Lizzie to be alone. Her mother had given her a large chunk of encouragement. She was absolutely fed up with moping around, and she felt determined to get things back to normal. The question was, though, how was she going to do that? Her "diet" approach had failed miserably. She glanced over at the empty box of snack cakes and frowned. Had she really eaten the ENTIRE box? The very thought made her sick to her stomach.
Bad! She scolded herself, much like an owner would do to a mischevious dog. Food is bad, Lizzie!
She repeated this over and over again in her head, until she finally became so angry at herself that she couldn't stand to even look at the box. She picked it up and furiously ripped it to shreds. Tears erupted again. Just as quickly as her confidence had been revived, it shriveled into nothing. She threw her face into her pillow and sobbed. Fear and self-hate consumed her.
"What's wrong with me?" she asked aloud. "This is ridiculous." She wiped her tear-streaked face. She sat up straight, and took a few deep breaths. She attempted to calm herself down. "Get a hold of yourself, Lizzie. You can do this. There has to be a way."
She closed her eyes and tried to think back on the way things were before the end of last year. Things had been much different then. Ethan Craft was her boyfriend. She was a shining gem on the social ladder. She was accepted by those around her. She was confident. She was happy. What was so different then?
"I was thinner," she muttered to herself. That seemed to be all she could think of. Try as she might to focus on something else, her mind kept circling back to the fact that she was fat. It should be such a minor thing, but it wasn't. She hated it. And she wanted to change it.
*If I could just take it all back,* she thought to herself. *If I could just undo everything I did. If could just take the fatness out of me!*
An idea ran through her mind. Her hands began to sweat as she conceived a plan. It wouldn't be so bad, she thought. Yes, maybe it would work...
She had reached her limit. She was taking control. She got up and walked slowly, but determinedly, to the bathroom. She took a look at herself in the mirror. She despised the chubby, tear-stained face staring back at her. *I'm not putting up with it anymore.*
She dropped to her knees, shaking nervously. *I'm going to change.* She took her finger, and moved it slowly to the back of her throat. It gave her a terrible, frightening sensation, but it seemed worth it. She viewed the vomit she was spewing as the evil fatness exiting her body.
*I'm going to change.*
After a bit more hugging and crying, Mrs. McGuire left Lizzie to be alone. Her mother had given her a large chunk of encouragement. She was absolutely fed up with moping around, and she felt determined to get things back to normal. The question was, though, how was she going to do that? Her "diet" approach had failed miserably. She glanced over at the empty box of snack cakes and frowned. Had she really eaten the ENTIRE box? The very thought made her sick to her stomach.
Bad! She scolded herself, much like an owner would do to a mischevious dog. Food is bad, Lizzie!
She repeated this over and over again in her head, until she finally became so angry at herself that she couldn't stand to even look at the box. She picked it up and furiously ripped it to shreds. Tears erupted again. Just as quickly as her confidence had been revived, it shriveled into nothing. She threw her face into her pillow and sobbed. Fear and self-hate consumed her.
"What's wrong with me?" she asked aloud. "This is ridiculous." She wiped her tear-streaked face. She sat up straight, and took a few deep breaths. She attempted to calm herself down. "Get a hold of yourself, Lizzie. You can do this. There has to be a way."
She closed her eyes and tried to think back on the way things were before the end of last year. Things had been much different then. Ethan Craft was her boyfriend. She was a shining gem on the social ladder. She was accepted by those around her. She was confident. She was happy. What was so different then?
"I was thinner," she muttered to herself. That seemed to be all she could think of. Try as she might to focus on something else, her mind kept circling back to the fact that she was fat. It should be such a minor thing, but it wasn't. She hated it. And she wanted to change it.
*If I could just take it all back,* she thought to herself. *If I could just undo everything I did. If could just take the fatness out of me!*
An idea ran through her mind. Her hands began to sweat as she conceived a plan. It wouldn't be so bad, she thought. Yes, maybe it would work...
She had reached her limit. She was taking control. She got up and walked slowly, but determinedly, to the bathroom. She took a look at herself in the mirror. She despised the chubby, tear-stained face staring back at her. *I'm not putting up with it anymore.*
She dropped to her knees, shaking nervously. *I'm going to change.* She took her finger, and moved it slowly to the back of her throat. It gave her a terrible, frightening sensation, but it seemed worth it. She viewed the vomit she was spewing as the evil fatness exiting her body.
*I'm going to change.*