𝐅𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐀𝐧𝐚. 𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐲, 𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐤.♡

Ｃｈａｐｔｅｒ ＩＩＩ

ＪＯＪＯ

Discipline. I need to practice discip–

Fuck. Is that a hamburger?

The delicious treat from the glass showcase of a fast-food restaurant winks at me and my mouth waters just by looking at it. When was the last time I ate anything decent? I rack my brains out, calculating the number of calories I'd consumed for the last two days and the only results are an apple, a cup of black coffee, green tea and maybe a tank of water.

Wait!

I did lick that spoon of peanut butter this morning, so in total, 144 calories. Might as well call it a fast for all I care.

My breath quickens with every push of the pedal, thighs burning with the strain. It's been almost three hours since I left the coffee shop and I'm pretty sure the tires of my bike must be deflated from going through every damn corner of the city.

Why would I do that? Because I'm a stupid ass bitch who likes to push herself to her limits and who doesn't know what rest means.

I know I'm going too far. I know it won't be long before all of this comes crashing down on me, sending my progress back to the starting point, but I can't seem to stop. Not when the ecstasy is so overwhelming, filling me up with a fake sense of achievement. This was probably the reason why this disorder was addicting. It made you feel like you had the reins in your hands, not it.

Not her.

Oh, Ana. How much I wanna fucking kill you right now.

It was all her fault, after all.

No. It wasn't her fault. It was the people's fault.They were the ones that said things. Things that hurt me. And their words didn't affect me directly but they fed my insecurities.

It was confusing, actually.They said I was fat. I tried and built some muscle by working out.They said I looked too manly with my muscles now. It didn't suit me.I dropped ten pounds starving myself.

What did they want?

What was the right body?

I didn't know anymore.There would always be something not right, not good enough.

I grip the handlebar tighter when the flood of old memories engulfs me without warning, making its appearance like an uninvited guest. I'm not even sure how it all started in the first place because believe it or not, I was the biggest body-positivity enthusiast.

And then suddenly I wasn't.

And then I find out that there's a whole community out there with people just like me but so radical, so different from anything I'd ever seen before. At first, I was outraged, disgusted even, by the naive statements of young girls saying they wanted the thinnest body possible, fantasizing about skin and bones, but as time went by and as I delved deeper and deeper into the swirling vortex of these intoxicating thoughts, I started succumbing to them. They suddenly seemed appealing.

I let out a sigh between heavy breaths.

Did it matter now? Besides, that guy didn't even show up today. Maybe it's his day off or something.

The brilliant rays of the afternoon sun make the glass panes of the cars passing by gleam like a swarm of fireflies.It would've looked pretty if it weren't for the way it made me shield my eyes. I was already having a hard time trying to keep them open as my strength started to run out, the view in front of me doing half–circles and then turning back to its optimal position. My legs feel like lead and I stop pedaling altogether, letting my bike guide me instead.

Tired.

So, so...tired.

A familiar face swims into my line of vision. It's the emo kid.

And he's....falling?

The handlebar spirals out of my control and my knee hits hard concrete. That face is the last thing I see before a black cloak of darkness swallows me whole