Author's Note: Just to clear things up a bit, I'm going to do this:

Chapter 1 - November 16, 2001

Chapter 2 - May 29, 2001

Chapter 3 - December 1, 2001

Hope this helps. I'll continue to post it in each chapter, just in case you've forgotten. And "before" chapters will be bolded.

Thanks to my fabulous beta NaijaChiqa, and to everyone who has been reviewing. I really appreciate your comments.

Sis2ACesarSalad – No, my story only chronicles the time in Marissa's life when she's dealing with anorexia. So there won't be any Ryan. And also – I "know how" to be anorexia and bulimic because, and I'm only saying this because nobody here knows who I am, I suffer from anorexia. I've been hospitalized once and am currently in outpatient. I see a psychiatrist once a week and a nutritionist twice a month. Let's just say I've done my research on bulimia as well and although I've never been diagnosed, I have played with it.

I guess I should take this time to warn everyone of the dangers of eating disorders. They're not fun. They're diseases, and yes you can die. Eating disorders are physical and mental diseases - some people seem to think that we "chose" this lifestyle and can snap out of it just like that.

Most of the technical things coming up in future chapters have happened to me, so I've got a first hand experience with most of this.

Famous – thanks for the idea, I've reposted the "earlier" chapters in bold to make it less confusing. Jimmy's a little AU but hopefully it will make more sense in later chapters. I guess, as Marissa spirals out of control, he becomes less of a disciplinarian because he doesn't know quite what to do. And that would explain his attitude in the actual show.

June 6, 2001

"Marissa, can we come in?"

"Sure," Marissa croaked. She sat up in bed as Summer and Holly entered the room, the former flicking on the lights as she did so. Summer had a bowl in her hands and Holly a plate.

"How are you feeling?" Summer set it down on the night table. "We made you soup and baked cookies!"

Holly set the plate down. "Try them - we haven't."

"Is that a hint? Go ahead, taste them." Marissa laughed. How could Holly possibly be thinking of food, when her own stomach ached terribly; she hadn't been able to keep anything down since Sunday.

Holly pulled the Saran wrap off the plate and grabbed two cookies, handing one to Summer.

"Don't you want one?" Summer asked. She bit into the chocolate chip cookie.

"Nah. My stomach hurts so badly right now, but I'll try them later. How was school?"

Summer reached for the plate. "You won't believe it"­

"Sean asked me out yesterday!" Holly squealed. "You know how at the party last weekend, he was like totally flirting with me? Well he gave me a ride home Monday and then yesterday he asked me out during lunch!"

Summer rolled her eyes as Holly went on. "He's sooo hot, but I guess you knew that, Marissa. But he's got, like, a sensitive side. He's not just a hot jock. Sean writes poems!"

"That's great, Hol." Marissa closed her eyes; the lights were making her dizzy and fatigued. The damned cold she'd somehow contracted made it hard to breathe, and in turn, hard to sleep at night. And when she finally settled into a restless sleep, she'd wake up in a cold sweat.

Holly cautiously stepped away from the bed. Summer placed her hand on Marissa's forehead. "You're burning up, Marissa. And you're so pale!"

Holly smiled wanly. "Maybe we should go." She backed out of the room. "Feel better!"

"What was that all about?"

"Oh yeah - I forgot to tell you. Holly's got this phobia of sick people. It was tough, getting her to like, come with me." She giggled.

"You should probably go though"­I don't want you to catch this god-awful thing."

Summer glanced at the door. "I'll come by tomorrow," she promised. "And get well soon - you can't leave me alone with Holly for too much longer!"

Marissa nodded. "You're feeling a rage blackout, huh?" She smiled; Summer blowing up on Holly would be quite the scene.

"You have no idea. Kisses!"

Marissa relaxed after Summer shut the door behind her; peace and quiet was seriously underrated. Closing her eyes, she tried her best to ignore the aroma of chicken noodle soup, but her stomach persisted.

I'm tired, she thought. I'll take a short rest and then I'll have some broth. And I really should try those cookies, just to be polite.

Not the cookies. Soup is bad enough. But definitely not the cookies.

Well, Marissa mused, maybe I'm right - I don't really need the soup or the cookies. But I'll see how I feel after my nap.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Marissa, honey, I drew up a bath for you in the Whirlpool tub." Julie said, walking into the living room.

Marissa, curled up in thick woolen blankets, turned off the TV.

"Hey," Kaitlyn protested, "I was watching that!"

She snuggled under the blankets, then emerged resignedly from them and tossed Kaitlyn the remote.

She headed for the stairs, Julie on her heels. Entering the master bedroom, they walked into the bathroom.

"I've laid your towels out right there," Julie pointed to a ledge next to the bath where two fluffy pink bath towels were folded, "And if you need anything, just yell for me."

Without so much as a thanks, Marissa ushered her out of the bathroom and closed the door, locking it with a click!

Limbs stiff from days of bed rest, she undressed mechanically. Off came the plaid pajama bottoms, her father's Berkeley sweatshirt, the t-shirt from Holly's Bat Mitzvah, and finally her satin La Perla underwear, formerly snug on her hips but as of late loose upon her skin.

Standing in the steamy bathroom, a sudden shiver tumbled down her spine. The water had begun to cool down.

Just as she was about to lower herself into the bath, she spotted a scale (a scale!) in the corner and couldn't resist the urge to check her status. One hundred flashed red on the tiny screen. She'd been one hundred and four pounds at her last check-up, hadn't she?

Now she was one hundred. One pound away from double digits.

One pound!

It was probably the flu or whatever strain of cold she'd caught that had caused the weight loss.

And so easy, too!

Keep it up.

But I can't be sick forever, she thought.

Don't eat. It's that simple.

Not such a bad idea"­Marissa patted herself on the back. She slid into the tub and cleared away some of the foam from the bubble bath. The heat of the bath water seemed to permeate her skin, soothing her sore legs and arms.

Critiquing herself in the mirror facing the tub, Marissa was pleased to see the roundness of her shoulders fast disappearing. In their place were the traces of the ends of her collarbones, and a sharp jut outwards and down to her arm. Still, reaching under the water, Marissa let out a sharp cry when she was able to grasp her stomach with her fingers.

It wasn't supposed to be there.

She'd have to work harder.

This sick business had to be kept up as long as possible; once she'd milked it for all it's worth, then she'd need to become dedicated. Truly dedicated.

You're disgusting. How do you look in the mirror everyday?

I'm trying, Marissa thought, I'm determined, really, I am.

Prove it.

Sighing, Marissa gulped in air and slid beneath the water to wet her hair, missing her mother's worried knock at the door.

Underwater, she let her air go bubble-by-bubble. Marissa stayed down there. She knew that if she if she concentrated hard enough, she could almost breathe without air.

Almost.

She broke the surface in an instant and she gasped for breath. She looked at her reflection of brown hair plastered to the sides of her face and deeply flushed cheeks almost steaming from the water.

Marissa was weak. But in that moment or so of feeling invincible, her spirits had been uplifted.

She heard her name. "What, Mom?"

"Are you okay? I've been calling you and you haven't answered."

"I'm fine." Marissa sighed. "Go away and let me relax."

Marissa frowned as she slid back into the water. Her mother could be incredibly pushy at times.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Is something wrong with dinner?" Jimmy asked. "I thought this was your favorite meal."

Marissa stared at the rosemary chicken breast on her plate, along with the mashed potatoes and squash. She put her fork down on top of the chicken and took a sip of water.

"I'm really not hungry, Daddy."

"Sweetie, please eat something. You've hardly eaten anything since you've been sick." Julie looked expectantly at Marissa.

Don't. You don't need anything.

Jimmy stopped eating. Even Kaitlyn swallowed a mouthful of chicken and let her knife and fork drop to the plate.

All six eyes on her, Marissa's heart stopped. What was she to do? Well, she reasoned, if she cut her chicken into six pieces and ate two, it would be okay. More than okay. It would be like a game. She'd allow herself three chews and a swallow.

It's not okay. Not okay at all.

She cut her chicken and pressed a piece into her mouth. Her stomach rumbling a bit, Marissa wanted to pat herself on the back. If she decided how much she was going to eat before she did, and made sure she didn't go overboard, she would be okay. Marissa wouldn't be as hungry anymore. She'd have a safe amount of food in the bottom of her stomach. And it would stop her parents' worrying.

One chew, two chews, three, and she swallowed. Julie beamed at her and picked up her forked. Jimmy resumed his loud chewing and Kaitlyn her rude open-mouthed manners.

Marissa caught another piece of chicken on her fork and chewed it three times. She picked up her glass. Drinking in-between every bite would make her fuller, faster, and give off the illusion that she was eating a lot.

She decided to go with three forkfuls of mashed potatoes. Of course she'd skimp a bit, not totally heaving potatoes all over her fork, but it would attract unnecessary attention if she cut them up too.

After the first forkful, Marissa sipped her water and wiped at the corners of her mouth with a napkin.

Dinner passed by quickly now that Marissa had something to occupy herself with.

She excused herself when Julie brought out the dessert, mumbling about not wanting an upset stomach again.

Upstairs, Marissa examined her stomach. It wasn't protruding in the slightest bit, the way it usually did after a binge. And she wasn't feeling sick with fullness, either. It was a comfortable balance between full and hungry. She quite liked being in between.

Not good enough.

She ignored the wheedling voice for once.

Marissa was quite confident that she'd be a winner in this new game.