The author wishes to remain anonymous. But if you wish to discuss the contents of this story with the author, or feel inclined to discuss any matter with her, e-mail me @ Amy, and I will provide you with her address.
Have you seen *NSync's “Bye, Bye, Bye” video?
Well, I’ve memorized every feature of the girl that’s in it. I want to look just like Her. I gaze, in awe of Her, as the camera, in the beginning of the video, pans up from the marionette stage to Her thin legs. I look down at my fat legs as I’m crouched on them in the floor in front of the TV.
Even though I’ve seen the video at least a hundred times, I don’t take my eyes away from it when my mom kisses me on the forehead as she leaves to go to work. She says something about not being late to school, and I yell to her, still without glancing away from the TV, that I’m almost ready. I promise not to be late, even though I know that I’m going to skip school again today. I’m too fat to go to school, I tell myself.
Now, She’s running after Joey and Chris on the top of a train. Skinny arms. A thin waist. She’s not out of breath.
Later, She’s chasing Justin. Leather suit. Tight. She’s everything that I want to be.
Next She's laughing, showing a perfect smile, as She speeds, in Her silver BMW Roadster, after my favorites, Lance and JC, in their red Viper.
I can see my reflection in the blank TV screen while I’m waiting for the video to rewind. My hair’s too short. It’s a dull brown. I have freckles. Too many of them. And pimples. I know that if I’ll just start taking care of myself, I can be as pretty as She is. I just have to lose weight. I have to exercise. Then I’ll have a chance with those guys.
In all honesty, I’m torn between Lance and JC. I guess I’d take whichever one wanted me. But I don’t really think that either one would, especially since I’m not perfect like Her.
I'm not skinny. And I pinch the flab of my stomach while staring into the full-length mirror in my bedroom. No. No one would want me like this.
What’s that girl’s name? Perhaps I’ll change my name to Hers.
Now I’m exercising. Just an hour, then I’ll do another hour around 10. Then another hour in the afternoon. I’ll do a hundred sit-ups for the in-between times. I’ve just got to get legs like Hers—long, tan, and skinny.
Despite what the video shows, I know that they wouldn’t run from Her in real life. She probably hung out with them. Went to dinner with one of them.
Dinner.
No. She’s beautiful and I’m not. I don’t have a chance with JC or Lance. I mean, look at the TV star that Lance used to date! Beautiful and skinny! And I can only imagine what JC’s girlfriend looks like.
The girl from the video is definitely beautiful. She’s probably not even wearing make-up.
I wash my face four times a day and use moisturizer, now.
My mom, not understanding why, bought expensive shampoo and conditioner for me. It will make my hair long and beautiful like Hers.
How much do you think She weighs? 110? 115 pounds?
After exercising, I weigh myself. 129 pounds.
I kneel, crying, on the bathroom floor.
The truth is, I’m hungry. No. Actually, I’m starving. The last time I ate? Sunday. Today’s Friday.
Monday morning I weighed 133 ½ pounds. Now I’m only down to 129. It must have been that orange juice I had for breakfast yesterday. I had to have it, though. So no one would hear my stomach growling.
Have you ever had your stomach growl so loudly that everyone around looked at you? It’s embarrassing.
“That’s it,” I say, picking myself up from the bathroom floor. I’m giving up on the weight loss idea. “I haven’t eaten anything,” I’m thinking to myself, “and I’m still fat.”
I open the fridge door. I stare at all of the food, the way I stared at everyone else’s food in envy of their skinny bodies and healthy appetites. I know that I’ll never look like that girl in the video. And that I’ll never get Lance or JC. Hell, I’m not even good enough for any of the guys in this backwoods town.
Everything in the fridge looks good. And I allow myself to eat everything that I want to. Pickles with scrambled eggs. Frozen waffles with chocolate syrup and whipped cream. All of it is tastes wonderful. Incredible. So damn good! Left-over casserole from last night (that had smelled so good and I wanted to eat so badly, but had managed to con my family into believing I had all ready eaten before I got home). There’s ice cream. Cottage cheese. Left-over pizza from the night before--no. Pizza hurts. Too much bread. Don’t forget to drink water. Lots. Please don’t forget to drink enough water. Ravioli from the pantry. Got to eat it cold-- straight out of the can. I can’t wait for it to cook, or the food I’ve all ready eaten will turn to fat. Last thing: cookies left over from the batch that mom made to take to work today.
Then I find myself on the couch in front of the TV, watching that video.
And DAMNIT! She’s so pretty. I want to look like that. I want to be her. But there’s no chance.
I drink another glass of water and then step on the scale in my mom and dad’s bathroom. I briefly think of school, knowing that I’m supposed to be there. Knowing I told my mom I was going to be there. Another lie. But no one suspects-—so they trust me.
133 lbs. All of the weight I lost in four days of absolutely starving myself has now been gained back in a matter of thirty minutes.
So I find myself kneeling, crying, on the cold, tile floor of the bathroom again. This time I’m in front of the toilet.
Last Saturday I promised myself that I’d never let myself be here again. That I’d control it. It hurts. It makes my chest ache when I breathe. And makes my throat burn when I cry.
But I’ll just do it again this one time and that’s it. Next time I’ll do it right. I’ll exercise as soon as I finish puking and then I won’t eat anything until I weigh 105 pounds and look better than that damn girl in “Bye, Bye, Bye.”
Look out Lance and JC. I’m going to be beautiful.
Let me know what you think about this story. I will include your comments on the ADD Discussion Page.
Send e-mail to princessfaerie@angelfire.com.