Laced Lies

Lie 6- I Already Ate

Hi! Oh my god! In 24 hours I managed to get 49 views! Incredible.

This chapter deals with eating disorders and distorted body image. I am in NO WAY saying that eating disorders are good things or anything anyone should bury themselves in (I'm such a hypocrite). They are terrible, harming disorders we face today! Weight does not define us!

From here I will be filling in the plot lines from here through the other lines. Basically, there will be chapters between the stated lies to show you the plot.

3 days ago

I squinted in on the girl on the magazine. Skinny, blond, perfect. From there I looked up at the girl, Evelyn who sat beside me. Skinny, blond, perfect.

Evelyn's sister, Harriet, sat cross-legged on the floor...skinny, blond, perfect.

As I glanced in the mirror, the brown haired who lay bundled in blankets looked back at me.

"Harriet?" I called out my friend.

There was some shuffling of fashion magazines before she responded, "Yes,"

"Am I pretty?"

I understood that she would probably lie to me, but I just needed to hear. I just needed to hear I was close to the teens on the cover.

"You're pretty," she complimented, but paused "you just need to stop eating those Cheetos and fatty foods."

It sounded like a joke, but there was a certain snarkiness to it.

I swallowed hard, my hands traveling insecurely to my bulging stomach, as my eyes skirted to my almost empty XL bag of Cheetos.

"What are you referring to?" I asked, nervously.

The two sisters gave each other knowing looks, "We're just saying-" Harriet began.

"That you can get rid of some of your 'jigglies'"

Once again my cheesy hand settled on my thighs.

"I don't jiggle," I snapped, "my weight is normal."

They nodded but had a solemn look in their eyes.

"Normal is good," Harriet said, trying to close the conversation.

My mind wandered to my seventh-grade health teacher who talked to us about BMI. How we all had to have enough weight to keep on living and that from there, we could be healthy.

I shook my head in protest, "Normal is healthy. Are you guys healthy?"

Evelyn laughed carefree, "We're pretty and alive. I think that means we're healthy."

I thought that over...pretty. Who defines pretty? Why is it up to these two stick figures to declare that I am not pretty.

I must have been showing sign of rage because the girls widened their eyes.

"You're good, Vicky, you're pretty," Harriet hurried, lifting her thin arm gingerly, to touch mine. I could tell she was trying to soothe me, but their accusations stuck in my head.

"But I'm not skinny," I hissed, "according to you!"

"Come on, V, relax. Not everyone is made to be thin," Evelyn sympathized, giving me a gentle glance.

"And it's not like your fat," Harriet pointed out, but the way she said fat: it was as if the word brought death to any of those who dared to say it.

I scoffed, "But I'm not skinny and going to get fat."

Clearly knowing their message got taken the wrong way, they tried to dismiss the whole thing.

"Forget about it. Let's go to the mall...do some shopping?" Harriet wiggled her eyebrows, tempting me with the abilities of a credit card.

I chewed on my lip but nodded nonetheless.

Time Lapse

"That is so cute," Harriet squealed, gesturing to her sister's shimmery gold skirt.

I nodded in agreement, mulling over my own collection of try ons.

"It's a little big," Evelyn frowned, thumbing the waistband.

"Yeah, I'll go find you a size zero," with that Harriet got up to leave but looked at me "I'll try and find the skirt in your size, you must be at least a size three."

She put on a reassuring smile as she left, but it did not ease my discomfort.

E settled down into the booth beside me, "What's got ya down?"

She likes speaking in different accents, for she always thinks an awkward southern accent can make the world a better place.

Nervously, I glanced around at the mirrors that lined the dressing room, there were eight of them.

All of them showed a brown-haired girl with chipmunk cheeks, too tight skinny jeans, and a baggy t-shirt.

"Nothing," I dismissed with a hand, "just tired."

She nodded, shifting her weight to her other thin leg, "If you lost some weight, you'd have more energy."

(Not true for those with a healthy BMI! It'll make you more tired and more vulnerable to illnessess)

"Really?" I asked, never realizing that.

"Indeed, young one," she giggled at her own words.

Harriet walked back, holding two glittery skirts, both obviously different sizes.

I tried mine on, and it didn't fit.

It was too tight around the waist and made my gut bulged out. Ashamed I looked up at the sisters who were wearing the skirts and remained without a top. Topless, it showed off their sculptured, bony body that kept their body thin.

They looked at me hesitantly, one of them swallowing hard.

They knew this was uncomfortable.

Time Lapse

"I'm hungry," my little brother, Arby, cried. He was running in circles the kitchen isle as my mom stirred the sauce for the chicken.

Arby was a wild banshee, always running around with one of his toy cars. A lot of the cars were my brother Edward's toys from when he was a kid. He's studying law at Harvard now (he's my parent's favorite.)

My mother made a tisk sound, "Almost ready."

I leaned against the doorway, examining the thick gravy as my stomach rumbled.

"Hon'" my mom summoned me, "can you set the table?"

"Of course," I responded.

I set up three spots, which caught my mother's attention.

"Hon' where's your plate?"

My stomach cramped, but my mind denied the temptation, "Sorry, I already ate."

Comment and Vote! Remember, I am NOT romanticizing eating disorders.