Hunger

e i g h t e e n

Week 3

I stare at my reflection in the mirror, feeling a combination of pleasure and disgust. How can it be that I felt things so completely different at the same time? It amazes me how I can hate myself so much yet feel proud of my own achievements.

There it was! I could see my collar bones so clearly now, not to mention that my ribs were starting to show a little bit at the bottom. My stomach was flatter and the space between my legs was becoming smaller every day. It was true, it was real.

How can I stop now? Who cares about regionals anymore? I'm thin, I'm almost there. It's so close I can taste it, ironically, since I'm not tasting anything anymore.

I put my lilac underwear and stare at how pretty I look now compared to just three weeks ago. My waist is smaller, if only I was pretty. It's too bad that there's nothing I can do to change that. Imagine turning pretty just as easy as losing ten pounds or changing hair color because you feel like it.

I finish getting dress, putting my jacket over my shirt and ugly attempt to fix my skirt. I couldn't wait to weigh myself today at training. The coach will probably kill me and my chances to go to regionals will disappear, but I didn't care anymore.

Everything in life was staring to not matter anymore. I was numb most of the time and I slowly lost my care to things. Nothing seems more important than losing weight.

I get inside the car, avoiding Christopher glare.

"You know," Christopher says, and I roll my eyes.

"I don't want to know." I reply cutting him off.

"You're the only one that wears that stupid jacket to school." He says, ignoring my comment.

"Well," I reply annoyed, not looking at him. "It's part of the uniform." I continue, and he sighs. "They should make everyone wear it."

"You look ridiculous."

"And you look like an asshole." I reply looking out the window.

I haven't been able to look at him in the face for the past two days, since I found out about what I did. I want to say something about it like "fuck you, for letting me kiss you or you took advantage of my state", but since I don't remember anything I might as well keep quiet. I was probably the one that did it, but I didn't mean to and now I can't face the fricking guy.

We get to school and like every other day it went quickly. It was a mixture of quick and slow, since the classes went by fast, but lunch time was eternal.

I was glad to be home and in less than two hours I was going to face the scale. I was extremely tempted to do it at home, but I couldn't. Knowing the truth would only make me feel worse for lying to the coach.

I finish getting ready and Christopher took me there. Like the past two weeks I was the first one to be called. I saw it in his eyes, that he wasn't happy, even though he hasn't weigh me yet, but I say nothing. I get on the scale and he sighs frowning.

"126 pounds." He says, and it was clear that he wasn't proud of me, at all.

I look at the floor, trying to hide my smile but he stares at me disappointed. "My office after training." He murmurs and calls the next girl.

If last week was hard, this one was worse. I had barely any energy to hold my own weight, and every jump seemed like I was heavier, which made me feel paranoid almost the whole time. I was so fat that I couldn't even hold myself anymore?

I get inside the coach's office and sit in the same chair as last time, not looking at him. The only thing I felt through the whole training after seeing his face was remorse. He hated me, I was sure.

"Six pounds Katherine." He says extremely serious. "You can't deny you have a problem." He continues angrily.

"But-

"Seventeen pounds in less than a month is a huge amount of weight loss."

I stay quiet, feeling his eyes burning through me. "Tell me a good reason why I shouldn't call your parents right now? Or kick you off the team."

"You can't do that!" I reply feeling lightheaded.

"Yes, I can!" He shouts back. "It's my duty as your coach to report this! You need to see a doctor as soon as possible."

I start crying, not knowing what to say or do. What was the big deal! I lost a little weight, there's nothing wrong with that.

"Please!" I beg him crying. "Don't call my mom, or quick me off the team." I continue hoping he would feel some empathy towards me. "I promise I will eat, I don't even care about regionals anymore, just don't make me stop training."

"Kath-

"No!" I shout crying even harder. "You don't understand, you don't know my mom! I will eat I promise you! Do you want me to gain weight?"

He stares at me, pity was written all over his face.

"I can't just do nothing." He says sighing. "You're suspended from practicing until further notice. And you will go to the doctor and bring me prove next week of your visit, or I'm kicking you off the them."

I stare at him in disbelief. "You can't be serious?" I whisper cleaning my face.

"It hurts me to do it." He replies grabbing my hand. "Believe me, but I can't watch you hurt yourself and do nothing."

I grab my bag and leave his office faster than ever. I'm not going to a doctor, over my dead body. If I didn't have gymnastics anymore, what was the point anymore? I might as well lose it all, before it's too late.