Chocolate.

The scientifically proven cure for a broken heart.

The ultimate consolation prize.

As she felt the hard block transform into molten sweetness in her mouth, she wondered how much chocolate it would take glue the splinters and shards of her broken heart back into place. How long would it be before her next trip to the candy shop? Her clothes were getting a bit tighter…

Wasn't this the reason he left? She wasn't skinny enough to be with him in the first place!

Feeling disgusted in herself, she spat the dark creamy mess into the sink and threw the rest of the bar away. She'd never eat again. She would become the skinniest, sexiest girl he'd ever laid eyes on, and then he'd fall head over heels in love with her.

"You look ill." He'd say to her months later, after running into her in Diagon Alley. His girlfriend – a raven-haired, porcelain skinned beauty with brilliant red lipstick and green eyes – silently agreed.

"I've just lost some weight, that's all, Oliver." She said, resting her hand on her hipbone to emphasize her figure. The girlfriend's green eyes showed nothing but pity.

"Some girls think that's attractive. In the industry it's called heroin-chic." She overheard the girlfriend whisper as they walked away.

Damn.

'What does he want me to be?' She thought with frustration, heading back to that darned candy shop. Some more chocolate. The level of hotness of that-dumb-fucking-asshole-model-girlfriend was off the charts, and a new wide gash had formed within her chest-cavity. It must have ripped all the way to her concave stomach, or perhaps that was a whole new wound caused by another villain named jealousy.

But what on earth was there to be jealous of?

That girl was wearing way too much make up for a day out, and she was a whole two dress sizes bigger than Katie. Her breasts literally leapt out of her black corset-top. Katie examined her own. Nada. Well, her mother always said men were visual creatures.

She entered the candy store and was immediately helped. "Poor thing." The shop-girl said, handing her various truffles to sample. Katie took a large bite out of one, so as to send the rising lump in her throat back down to it's fiery hell. She was not going to cry in this place.

"They've been bewitched," The shop girl quipped, noticing the somber atmosphere surrounding her customer. Katie swallowed.

"Good, I'd quite like to die."

The shop girl laughed and offered her another treat. "No, they're called break-up truffles. Chocolate naturally releases endorphins that bring temporary joy to the person who eats them. The spell I used increased the potency of the endorphins, so you're supposed to feel tons better after just one… but I think you might need much more than one."

This was some great marketing.

"I feel a bit happier," Katie lied, and bought a pack of break-up truffles anyway. She left the shop with the pink- and white- striped, gold trimmed package and made her way down the alley. In her mind, she imagined everyone staring at her as if she was some skeleton prancing down the street with a bag of desperation and a dark cloud hanging over her head. Another truffle made it's way into her mouth, and the first tear came rolling down her cheek. Now people were staring. It wasn't an uncommon sight for the usual suspects in the alley – a young girl walking out of the candy store with a package of sweets and smeared mascara. It was just that the pain radiated so far off this girl's visage that many started fearing that if they stood too close, they'd get caught in her emotional storm. She wanted to be alone, but she needed someone. She needed him – the way he used to be. She needed him to make her feel unbreakable again, and on the way home, she prayed that she'd walk by him again and he'd see the wreckage. She prayed that he'd be the one to fix it.

But she reached her door, sobbing uncontrollably, and no one had come to her aid. The truffles were gone. Had she eaten all of them? She couldn't remember. All she knew was that the shop-girl's chemistry was atrocious, and she felt sick. She lay down on her bed and hugged a pillow to her aching stomach.

I want to die.