.
"No matter how wide you open your eyes it won't help you, the point is you're looking at the wrong picture."
-Wind and Ashes
How many cuts could she make…how much blood can collect onto the white tile? She raised the knife once more, the painted tiger decoration on the blade seemed to look back at her, daring her to continue. She stared at the dagger's edge. Marveling at its sharpness. Almost in awe of what this tool has done and can do for her.
"I bet I could bleed more if I tried." Answering her own question, she set to work once more. Carving into her flesh. Watching the cuts well up with blood. It was almost therapeutic just to watch the deep rich color glide across her porcelain white skin. If her skin was porcelain, it looked to be broke more than one time then glued back together. But every one knew porcelain dolls couldn't bleed…did this mean she wasn't real?
No. This pain was real, this blood was real enough for her.
And she needed this. This ache. These scars. It was a reminder of who she was, of what she stood for. And as she drew that knife across her arm again, her mind could only think of one thing; how to make more blood come from her body so it could collect into the sink.
Virginia Weasley looked into the mirror, a scrawny, pale, freckled face teen looked back at her. And she found it almost laughable how the only person who looked her in the eye now a days was this girl in the mirror, a girl she didn't even know any more.
While her arm mercilessly bled into the sink, she looked at her form- no, /the girl's/ form.
"You're still not skinny enough, God, no ones going to want you when you look like a bloody cow. Especially not Harry." She told the girl, and hoped this lost soul would take her advice, then maybe everything would start to get better. Life would be better if she was beautiful, or rich, maybe even being a tad skinnier would make all the difference.
Her opinions to this girl continued, "And your hair…your hair is so /red/. You should cut it, just lop it all off because it's hideous you know. I'm not trying to be rude, I'm only stating the truth." The girl in the mirror lightly toyed with a few strands of her waist length hair, then let them fall back into place.
Ginny turned to the side and sucked in her gut trying to count her ribs. All of the pretty girls in her Teen-Wizard magazines were much skinnier than her; she could almost see their ribs in the pictures. And she could most definatly see hers now, but it still wasn't good enough.
"If you lost all of that excess baby fat, then maybe you could pass for excusable…maybe."
She tried to pull and pinch at the skin on her hips, only to find there was barely any 'fat' there to begin with…but that's not what she saw. Never mind her hip bone was harshly visible, the only thing that mattered was when she wore clothes it would look (to her) like she'd gained a few pounds, so she had to get rid of all that weight. She just /had to/ if she wanted to go out into public, even if it was just Diagon Alley.
Virginia leaned in close to the mirror, her nose touching the cool, smooth surface. "You'll never be good enough." she whispered.
Some one started banging on the door. "Ginny! Come on, other people live here to!" Ron obviously had to use the lavatory.
"I'll be out in a minute!" Yelling seemed to be the norm around The Burrow, but she really did hate raised voices.
"Gin, get your fat arse out of there now! You've been in there all morning for Christ's sake! Mum says she wants you down stairs too! So you had better hurry!"
Ginny was frantically running the water, trying to wash the sink clean of any evidence of blood. Then placed her arm under the tap to clean her wounds. For a moment she shut her eyes reveling in the stinging sensation.
"GIN!" Ron slapped on the door again with his palm.
She jumped and wiped off her arm with a towel. Looking around for blood while she scrambled to get her shirt over her head, she didn't have enough time to get her arm properly fixed.
Virginia flung open the door confronting her brother "Alright! Alright! I'm out! Happy now?!"
"Well it's about time! Took you long enough, didn't it?" Ron stepped inside, grabbed his Chuddly Cannons hat, then ran downstairs.
"Stupid boy." she muttered, and made her way to her room before more blood could drip onto things. She'd taken the towel with her so she could get the stains out before throwing it into the wash, but now was using it to wipe up the extra blood that still seeped from the cuts.
Ginny's room was rather small, but still large enough to hold everything she's ever needed. As she walked in the door she surveyed her beloved bedroom, smiling because it was /hers/, and she didn't have to share it if she didn't want to. Unlike other things under the Weasley roof this was her private sanctuary away from every one, and no one was allowed in.
In the right corner near the door were bookshelves and a worn down, yet comfortable, chair. Her little reading corner so to speak. There were also pillows on the floor if she wanted to lie down. Next to some shelves on the right-side wall was her vanity next to her bedside table. On the left corner on the opposite side of the room were a bunch of stuffed animals, and a hope chest.
She could still remember Fred comment about that. It had been a joyous moment her very own hope chest, but the novelty wore off when she was made fun of. It was Fred who got to her the most, making comments about how she was to small and gangly for any one to want to marry her, Ginny age 10, was devastated having not thought yet of those things. Should she have stressed over growing up, is that what other girls did at her age? She didn't know, she only had brothers, no sisters, and her mother didn't really give her any 'womanly advice'. So she'd eaten a lot, all the time. Hoping to look like the other girls who were bigger.
Though now her new goal was the exact opposite.
Thinner was beautiful.
Every one else thought so.
Trying to forget what else her brothers teased her about she stepped into her room and closed the door. Next to the pile of stuffed animals was her armoire, then her closet door next to that. Then the wall opposite of the door was were her full sized bed was placed in the far right hand corner. A row of windows sat on that very same wall, so every time you entered her room you could see the branches of a tree and part of the landscape. It let in a lot of light. Much better, she thought, than Ron's orange coated oven of a room. In fact, she'd made her room almost the exact opposite of his. The walls were a light baby blue, as was the ceiling, little hand painted fairies and butterflies were spread across her very own canvas of a wall. She loved a lot of light. And she enjoyed actual books, not just profiles on Quiditch players.
While admiring her room she'd completely forgotten what her mother wanted down stairs.
"VIRGINIA ANN WEASLEY! GET DOWN HERE THIS INSTANT!"
Ginny winced, more raised voices. The towel she had on her arm helped stop the bleeding some what but there were still a few trickled of blood here and there. First she went to a small freestanding cupboard on her bedside table, opening the two little doors she read the labels on the jars. There were vials, and small square jars, bottles, and small boxes. She picked up a cylinder shaped jar, and opened it.
"Perfect, not to good and not to advanced." She was talking about its healing properties. She'd brewed the herbs her self and made the salve in the jar also, but didn't make it to the best of it's ability, nor did she make it that strong a healing ointment. It was so her cuts would stop bleeding, but it won't heal them completely or stop the pain.
Perfect.
Throwing the towel down she rubbed on some of the salve. Then wrapped her arm in a long strip of thin muslin she'd sewed together just for this purpose.
"What can I use to cover this though?" It was a warm day for august, but still, she was wearing a baggy T-shirt and about to change into a tank top because of the temperature. Either way her arms would not be covered. She looked at the ground and saw a nylon sock. It was exactly what she needed. Picking up the sock she took a pair of scissors and cut off the very end then made a small snip in the side for her thumb. She then pulled the sock over her left forearm, the one she'd been cutting, and it reached almost up to her shoulder.
"VIRGINIA!"
Ginny quickly shucked off her shirt and went in search of a good tank top. But she only found a dark blue one that clung to her body. This wasn't what she wanted, she was fat enough with out showing it off to other people. But she could tell her mother would come up stairs and drag her to the kitchen by her hair if she didn't get a move on. A mother's 'war cry' was not to be trifled with. So the tank top would have to do. She pulled the shirt on and looked into the mirror of her vanity.
Once again a hideous girl stood before her, she narrowed her eyes at her "repulsive" reflection, then sighed 'It will have to do, besides the only ones around today will be family. It might not be that bad.' These thoughts were comforting, though that comfort was short lived.
Making sure no cuts or scars were visible, which nothing was as she decided to cut up a matching black nylon sock, she then ran down stairs to see what her mother was raging about.
"Well /there/ you are! I was wondering when you were going to drag your self out of your room." Molly Weasley was a plump woman, with the same red hair as her children…so in her daughters eyes she was only glad she didn't look that much like her mother, not as if she was thrilled with her fathers looks either.
At the moment Molly was cooking something, bacon, in a pan. The grease spit and cracked, the smell of food was turning her stomach. Every one was more or less seated at the table. Both of the twins who have been visiting, Ron in his beloved hat, Da, and Harry-
Wait a minute, hold up, and rewind…Harry? Virginia did a double take, and yes indeed, Harry Potter was sitting at the kitchen table. Her hand immediately covered her stomach, and then her arms, she was trying to hide so he wouldn't see her, as pathetic as it sounded. Or at lease she could cover up parts of her body so he wouldn't noticed she was 'over weight'.
But to her horror he looked up at her. 'Oh no! Everything I've worked for…' She was planning on looking better this year, better than the other girls, better for Harry. And now he'd seen her. He'd seen the way she looks, and with knowing that, he'd never want to be near her.
She watched as Harry's eyes grew a bit wider as they traveled her body. 'He thinks I'm revolting.' Gin wanted to cry, then had an impulse to run back upstairs. And she did try to do so, but her mother had caught her arm, and scolded her in her usual tone, "Where do you think your going? Oh no you don't, you are going to sit down at this table and eat with the family. You've been taking your meal separately for weeks! We all need to eat together. And, incase you haven't noticed we have a /guest/." This last bit was said with some encouragement.
Obviously it would be Molly Weasley's dream for her only daughter to marry /the/ Harry Potter. And a bit of a warning as to not screw it up, Ginny knew how to read between the lines. Her hands still crisscrossed over her stomach and every one was looking at her now. She needed to hide, to crawl back into the corner of her room with a book. But that was not an option. So Ginny went for the next best thing, she used the table to cover her body (technically) as she sat down, it was better than every one starring at her. Harry's eyes were still on her, she could feel it, and she cursed her mother for ruining her plans.
But the worst punishment had yet to come. It's not that she didn't like her family, but they didn't know how much they've tortured her, especially as she sat there at that table. First it was the little things, Ron making comments about "teenagers today and their fashions", referring to the sox on her arms, and how she couldn't match colors ("Aren't girls 'spose to know that naturally, or something?") because she was wearing baggy olive green carpenter pants with a dark blue top. Some how, in Ron's mind, this was wrong. But she ignored it. Though after that things slowly got worse, she swore she could hear every one chewing, she watched as they ate /so much/ food. George was already having seconds on the small ham steaks. Her father, all though a wiry man, was spreading butter on his toast so thick you could barley see the bread, and then a /generous/ addition of marmalade.
"Ginny dear? Don't you want some bacon?" Virginia watch as her mother pushed two pieces of grease dripping bacon in her mouth and chewed. She looked from the older woman's nonexistent figure, to her chubby hands, then to her flabby arms…'This is my future'…she thought she was going to be sick.
(A/N): This is to give you an idea of Virginia's home life. Some things to notice are that she takes joking 'insults', especially from her siblings, seriously. And you know what I see missing in Anorexic!Ginny stories? Is the fact that Molly is over weight. Maybe not grossly so, but through a girls eyes who has an eating disorder Molly's "situation" would be horrific. I think that would play a big part in things. Please review as I live off of your comments ^_^
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"No matter how wide you open your eyes it won't help you, the point is you're looking at the wrong picture."
-Wind and Ashes
How many cuts could she make…how much blood can collect onto the white tile? She raised the knife once more, the painted tiger decoration on the blade seemed to look back at her, daring her to continue. She stared at the dagger's edge. Marveling at its sharpness. Almost in awe of what this tool has done and can do for her.
"I bet I could bleed more if I tried." Answering her own question, she set to work once more. Carving into her flesh. Watching the cuts well up with blood. It was almost therapeutic just to watch the deep rich color glide across her porcelain white skin. If her skin was porcelain, it looked to be broke more than one time then glued back together. But every one knew porcelain dolls couldn't bleed…did this mean she wasn't real?
No. This pain was real, this blood was real enough for her.
And she needed this. This ache. These scars. It was a reminder of who she was, of what she stood for. And as she drew that knife across her arm again, her mind could only think of one thing; how to make more blood come from her body so it could collect into the sink.
Virginia Weasley looked into the mirror, a scrawny, pale, freckled face teen looked back at her. And she found it almost laughable how the only person who looked her in the eye now a days was this girl in the mirror, a girl she didn't even know any more.
While her arm mercilessly bled into the sink, she looked at her form- no, /the girl's/ form.
"You're still not skinny enough, God, no ones going to want you when you look like a bloody cow. Especially not Harry." She told the girl, and hoped this lost soul would take her advice, then maybe everything would start to get better. Life would be better if she was beautiful, or rich, maybe even being a tad skinnier would make all the difference.
Her opinions to this girl continued, "And your hair…your hair is so /red/. You should cut it, just lop it all off because it's hideous you know. I'm not trying to be rude, I'm only stating the truth." The girl in the mirror lightly toyed with a few strands of her waist length hair, then let them fall back into place.
Ginny turned to the side and sucked in her gut trying to count her ribs. All of the pretty girls in her Teen-Wizard magazines were much skinnier than her; she could almost see their ribs in the pictures. And she could most definatly see hers now, but it still wasn't good enough.
"If you lost all of that excess baby fat, then maybe you could pass for excusable…maybe."
She tried to pull and pinch at the skin on her hips, only to find there was barely any 'fat' there to begin with…but that's not what she saw. Never mind her hip bone was harshly visible, the only thing that mattered was when she wore clothes it would look (to her) like she'd gained a few pounds, so she had to get rid of all that weight. She just /had to/ if she wanted to go out into public, even if it was just Diagon Alley.
Virginia leaned in close to the mirror, her nose touching the cool, smooth surface. "You'll never be good enough." she whispered.
Some one started banging on the door. "Ginny! Come on, other people live here to!" Ron obviously had to use the lavatory.
"I'll be out in a minute!" Yelling seemed to be the norm around The Burrow, but she really did hate raised voices.
"Gin, get your fat arse out of there now! You've been in there all morning for Christ's sake! Mum says she wants you down stairs too! So you had better hurry!"
Ginny was frantically running the water, trying to wash the sink clean of any evidence of blood. Then placed her arm under the tap to clean her wounds. For a moment she shut her eyes reveling in the stinging sensation.
"GIN!" Ron slapped on the door again with his palm.
She jumped and wiped off her arm with a towel. Looking around for blood while she scrambled to get her shirt over her head, she didn't have enough time to get her arm properly fixed.
Virginia flung open the door confronting her brother "Alright! Alright! I'm out! Happy now?!"
"Well it's about time! Took you long enough, didn't it?" Ron stepped inside, grabbed his Chuddly Cannons hat, then ran downstairs.
"Stupid boy." she muttered, and made her way to her room before more blood could drip onto things. She'd taken the towel with her so she could get the stains out before throwing it into the wash, but now was using it to wipe up the extra blood that still seeped from the cuts.
Ginny's room was rather small, but still large enough to hold everything she's ever needed. As she walked in the door she surveyed her beloved bedroom, smiling because it was /hers/, and she didn't have to share it if she didn't want to. Unlike other things under the Weasley roof this was her private sanctuary away from every one, and no one was allowed in.
In the right corner near the door were bookshelves and a worn down, yet comfortable, chair. Her little reading corner so to speak. There were also pillows on the floor if she wanted to lie down. Next to some shelves on the right-side wall was her vanity next to her bedside table. On the left corner on the opposite side of the room were a bunch of stuffed animals, and a hope chest.
She could still remember Fred comment about that. It had been a joyous moment her very own hope chest, but the novelty wore off when she was made fun of. It was Fred who got to her the most, making comments about how she was to small and gangly for any one to want to marry her, Ginny age 10, was devastated having not thought yet of those things. Should she have stressed over growing up, is that what other girls did at her age? She didn't know, she only had brothers, no sisters, and her mother didn't really give her any 'womanly advice'. So she'd eaten a lot, all the time. Hoping to look like the other girls who were bigger.
Though now her new goal was the exact opposite.
Thinner was beautiful.
Every one else thought so.
Trying to forget what else her brothers teased her about she stepped into her room and closed the door. Next to the pile of stuffed animals was her armoire, then her closet door next to that. Then the wall opposite of the door was were her full sized bed was placed in the far right hand corner. A row of windows sat on that very same wall, so every time you entered her room you could see the branches of a tree and part of the landscape. It let in a lot of light. Much better, she thought, than Ron's orange coated oven of a room. In fact, she'd made her room almost the exact opposite of his. The walls were a light baby blue, as was the ceiling, little hand painted fairies and butterflies were spread across her very own canvas of a wall. She loved a lot of light. And she enjoyed actual books, not just profiles on Quiditch players.
While admiring her room she'd completely forgotten what her mother wanted down stairs.
"VIRGINIA ANN WEASLEY! GET DOWN HERE THIS INSTANT!"
Ginny winced, more raised voices. The towel she had on her arm helped stop the bleeding some what but there were still a few trickled of blood here and there. First she went to a small freestanding cupboard on her bedside table, opening the two little doors she read the labels on the jars. There were vials, and small square jars, bottles, and small boxes. She picked up a cylinder shaped jar, and opened it.
"Perfect, not to good and not to advanced." She was talking about its healing properties. She'd brewed the herbs her self and made the salve in the jar also, but didn't make it to the best of it's ability, nor did she make it that strong a healing ointment. It was so her cuts would stop bleeding, but it won't heal them completely or stop the pain.
Perfect.
Throwing the towel down she rubbed on some of the salve. Then wrapped her arm in a long strip of thin muslin she'd sewed together just for this purpose.
"What can I use to cover this though?" It was a warm day for august, but still, she was wearing a baggy T-shirt and about to change into a tank top because of the temperature. Either way her arms would not be covered. She looked at the ground and saw a nylon sock. It was exactly what she needed. Picking up the sock she took a pair of scissors and cut off the very end then made a small snip in the side for her thumb. She then pulled the sock over her left forearm, the one she'd been cutting, and it reached almost up to her shoulder.
"VIRGINIA!"
Ginny quickly shucked off her shirt and went in search of a good tank top. But she only found a dark blue one that clung to her body. This wasn't what she wanted, she was fat enough with out showing it off to other people. But she could tell her mother would come up stairs and drag her to the kitchen by her hair if she didn't get a move on. A mother's 'war cry' was not to be trifled with. So the tank top would have to do. She pulled the shirt on and looked into the mirror of her vanity.
Once again a hideous girl stood before her, she narrowed her eyes at her "repulsive" reflection, then sighed 'It will have to do, besides the only ones around today will be family. It might not be that bad.' These thoughts were comforting, though that comfort was short lived.
Making sure no cuts or scars were visible, which nothing was as she decided to cut up a matching black nylon sock, she then ran down stairs to see what her mother was raging about.
"Well /there/ you are! I was wondering when you were going to drag your self out of your room." Molly Weasley was a plump woman, with the same red hair as her children…so in her daughters eyes she was only glad she didn't look that much like her mother, not as if she was thrilled with her fathers looks either.
At the moment Molly was cooking something, bacon, in a pan. The grease spit and cracked, the smell of food was turning her stomach. Every one was more or less seated at the table. Both of the twins who have been visiting, Ron in his beloved hat, Da, and Harry-
Wait a minute, hold up, and rewind…Harry? Virginia did a double take, and yes indeed, Harry Potter was sitting at the kitchen table. Her hand immediately covered her stomach, and then her arms, she was trying to hide so he wouldn't see her, as pathetic as it sounded. Or at lease she could cover up parts of her body so he wouldn't noticed she was 'over weight'.
But to her horror he looked up at her. 'Oh no! Everything I've worked for…' She was planning on looking better this year, better than the other girls, better for Harry. And now he'd seen her. He'd seen the way she looks, and with knowing that, he'd never want to be near her.
She watched as Harry's eyes grew a bit wider as they traveled her body. 'He thinks I'm revolting.' Gin wanted to cry, then had an impulse to run back upstairs. And she did try to do so, but her mother had caught her arm, and scolded her in her usual tone, "Where do you think your going? Oh no you don't, you are going to sit down at this table and eat with the family. You've been taking your meal separately for weeks! We all need to eat together. And, incase you haven't noticed we have a /guest/." This last bit was said with some encouragement.
Obviously it would be Molly Weasley's dream for her only daughter to marry /the/ Harry Potter. And a bit of a warning as to not screw it up, Ginny knew how to read between the lines. Her hands still crisscrossed over her stomach and every one was looking at her now. She needed to hide, to crawl back into the corner of her room with a book. But that was not an option. So Ginny went for the next best thing, she used the table to cover her body (technically) as she sat down, it was better than every one starring at her. Harry's eyes were still on her, she could feel it, and she cursed her mother for ruining her plans.
But the worst punishment had yet to come. It's not that she didn't like her family, but they didn't know how much they've tortured her, especially as she sat there at that table. First it was the little things, Ron making comments about "teenagers today and their fashions", referring to the sox on her arms, and how she couldn't match colors ("Aren't girls 'spose to know that naturally, or something?") because she was wearing baggy olive green carpenter pants with a dark blue top. Some how, in Ron's mind, this was wrong. But she ignored it. Though after that things slowly got worse, she swore she could hear every one chewing, she watched as they ate /so much/ food. George was already having seconds on the small ham steaks. Her father, all though a wiry man, was spreading butter on his toast so thick you could barley see the bread, and then a /generous/ addition of marmalade.
"Ginny dear? Don't you want some bacon?" Virginia watch as her mother pushed two pieces of grease dripping bacon in her mouth and chewed. She looked from the older woman's nonexistent figure, to her chubby hands, then to her flabby arms…'This is my future'…she thought she was going to be sick.
(A/N): This is to give you an idea of Virginia's home life. Some things to notice are that she takes joking 'insults', especially from her siblings, seriously. And you know what I see missing in Anorexic!Ginny stories? Is the fact that Molly is over weight. Maybe not grossly so, but through a girls eyes who has an eating disorder Molly's "situation" would be horrific. I think that would play a big part in things. Please review as I live off of your comments ^_^
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