Part Three:
That night, I made another excuse not to eat dinner. "I have to work
on some extra credit. I want to bring my math grade up to a 97." Father
seemed to buy it, and so I was off the hook for another night.
Later, I managed to sneak a couple of apples. That was all I ate that
day.
At Spirit Squad practice the next morning, Hazel didn't drop me. I must
be improving, I thought. I'd only eatten an orange that morning.
At lunch, Emma had another on of her "diets are sooooo dangerous"
lectures. "Em!" I said, half-laughing. "I'm not on a diet! Mama made her
churros for breakfast today, and...I had, like five."
"Oh." Yeah, take that. Mama hadn't made churros in a year, at least.
I didn't eat for the rest of the day. I was in luck at dinner: Father
and Mama decided to go out to dinner together. For the first time in, like,
a century.
"Make sure you get all your homework done, Manualla," Father said, of
course. "Mama left some leftovers in the refridgerator for you."
Five minutes after they left, the sliced-up leftovers were swirling
down the toilet. It was the only way to get rid of them.
But when I was on my computer later, I felt filled with this urge to
eat. And eat and eat and eat.
And I did. Oh, God, I ate. I ate all the cookies, the rest of the left-
overs, a made up a pot of rice. Urg, I had the biggest stomach ache when
I was done.
So I sat in the kitchen, feeling ashamed. My stomach was gurgling, and
I knew that I'd just done something bad. So I did the only think I could
think of: I went to the bathroom and threw up.
Instant relief flew over me once I'd gotten it all out. I was disgusting
and I swore to myself never to do it again, but it had been worth it.
Sorry so short, I'll make the next one longer!
That night, I made another excuse not to eat dinner. "I have to work
on some extra credit. I want to bring my math grade up to a 97." Father
seemed to buy it, and so I was off the hook for another night.
Later, I managed to sneak a couple of apples. That was all I ate that
day.
At Spirit Squad practice the next morning, Hazel didn't drop me. I must
be improving, I thought. I'd only eatten an orange that morning.
At lunch, Emma had another on of her "diets are sooooo dangerous"
lectures. "Em!" I said, half-laughing. "I'm not on a diet! Mama made her
churros for breakfast today, and...I had, like five."
"Oh." Yeah, take that. Mama hadn't made churros in a year, at least.
I didn't eat for the rest of the day. I was in luck at dinner: Father
and Mama decided to go out to dinner together. For the first time in, like,
a century.
"Make sure you get all your homework done, Manualla," Father said, of
course. "Mama left some leftovers in the refridgerator for you."
Five minutes after they left, the sliced-up leftovers were swirling
down the toilet. It was the only way to get rid of them.
But when I was on my computer later, I felt filled with this urge to
eat. And eat and eat and eat.
And I did. Oh, God, I ate. I ate all the cookies, the rest of the left-
overs, a made up a pot of rice. Urg, I had the biggest stomach ache when
I was done.
So I sat in the kitchen, feeling ashamed. My stomach was gurgling, and
I knew that I'd just done something bad. So I did the only think I could
think of: I went to the bathroom and threw up.
Instant relief flew over me once I'd gotten it all out. I was disgusting
and I swore to myself never to do it again, but it had been worth it.
Sorry so short, I'll make the next one longer!