This is my story.

This is my story. It’s not short. It’s never been simple and it sure as hell is not sweet.

Right now I’m lying here, listening to the “beep… beep… beep” of one of the many machines that I am currently hooked up to. Sadly, after being here so often and for so long I know what each and every one of them monitors. My only company in the middle of the night is my black teddy bear named Winnie, a gift from my friend, Annie. Day after day the bare white washed walls stare back at me. I’ve begged my parents to let me put up some of my posters.

“No, Honey,” my mother says gently, as if talking too loud would shatter the thin transparent barrier that holds back her tears, “I don’t think those are really appropriate.”

“But, Mom they’ll make me feel more comfortable, maybe even help me.”

She thinks for a moment. Or rather pretends to think, when really she’s trying to control her tears. She looks at me. She’s going to give in, I know it.

“Karen.” Dad says sharply, “Don’t let her walk all over you. She can’t have them and she doesn’t deserve them.
She’s being pathetic.” He slams down his fist. His voice has grown louder, nearly to the point where he’s shouting.

Coming to see me is torture for him. He despises that I’m not perfect and that I ended up the way I am now. I can’t make him happy.

I haven’t seen him smile at me for five long years. I’m beginning to doubt if he can smile. His lips seem permanently stuck in a thin, hard line and his eyes are just as hard. He doesn’t love me. He used to before this all started.

It all began on my first a day of third grade. I couldn’t wait to start the new year. With my favourite baby blue shirt and favourite pair of blue jeans with pink rhinestones up the legs, I proudly hopped off my bus. When I hit the ground my curly, chestnut brown hair gently bounced. I walked into my classroom ready for anything.

As soon as I took one step inside the door I realized there weren’t just children my age there, but also ones in forth grade. The older children leered at me. I ran nervously to my group of friends.

Half way across the classroom I tripped and hit the floor with a loud Thump! Unfortunately, the fall was not the worst part.
When I went to stand up, I heard the most horrific sound. My favourite jeans ripped and exposed my underwear to the entire class. I was mortified.

For a split second everything was silent, until one of the forth grade boys shouted out, “Look! Her butt’s so big her jeans couldn’t hold it all in!”

Everyone began to laugh, even my own friends laughed. I should have laughed along with them, but instead I cried. I cried more then than I have ever in my entire life. No one felt bad for me, even after they realized I was crying. In fact that same boy who shouted out before yelled out, “She’s fat and she’s a baby. She’s a piglet!”

They laughed even harder and I ran. I ran into the girls’ washroom, locked myself in a stall and stayed there for an hour.

Finally, I felt a bit better. I got out, washed my face and tied my jacket around my waist.

When I returned to the classroom my new teacher, Mr. Francis, yelled at me for being late and gave me a detention. I apologized and walked to my seat. Has I passed the boy, whose name I later found out was Derek, made pig noises. Everyone snickered and Mr. Francis didn’t say a thing.

Later that day, when I had gotten home from school, Dad got a phone call from Mr. Francis saying how I had been late and had been in trouble my very first day. Dad was furious.

“Come here, Catherine.” I went. “Now Catherine why did you get in trouble?” he asked in voice too sweet to be real.

“I ripped my pants and everybody made fun of me. They called me a piglet and said I was fat. I started to cry and went to the girls’ room. I’m really sorry, Daddy. I won’t do it again.” I answered in a shaky voice. I felt the tears welling up inside me. I can’t cry, I told myself, but even then I felt one tear slide down my cheek.

That set my father off.

“Stop crying! How many times do I have to tell you? Don’t cry! God, you’re hopeless! Completely hopeless!” he shouted so loud my ears were ringing. But, he wasn’t done yet.

I saw my mother watching idly by. She’d never stand up to Dad. He was the boss of us. He was our master.

He dragged me upstairs and threw me in my room. “Do you want to know why those kids called you fat?” he yelled out. “Because you are! Now stay in here, and you can start your new diet and skip supper!” He slammed the door and stormed downstairs.

I stayed there on my floor all night. I finally fell asleep crying.

When I awoke in the morning my stomach hurt so much that I could barely move. I ran downstairs and ate two big bowls of chocolate cereal. I felt much better. I headed out the door for my second day of third grade.

The second day was no better than the first, nor was the third or forth or any of the days for three years. I was the bunt of every joke and was nicknamed Piglet. I hate school, I tried to tell my teachers what was happening, but they never listened. Some of them even called me Piglet. I hated my life. I couldn’t wait to go to middle school and start fresh.

After three years of bullying and stress eating I was thirty-five pounds overweight. Not really that much, but enough for my dad to constantly yell at me to lose weight, to be thin, to be perfect.

I entered middle school overweight and with no self-esteem. I was a loner; all my friends had left me because they said I was being stupid for being so affected by a few harmless jokes. I was alone until, for a science project, I was paired up with a girl named Annie.

She too was alone, having just moved here. She was everything I wanted to be; tall, slim, smart and gorgeous. She walked with a certain graceful air about her and talked so elegantly. For the longest time I couldn’t figure out why she wasn’t friends with the popular kids; then, one day I overheard two girls talking about how she was a snob and a nerd. I felt so bad for Annie that I decided then and there that I was going to be her best friend.

Annie gladly accepted my offer to be best friends. She and I spent every Friday night at each other’s house. We were partners
for every, project, presentation and gym class. We told each other everything that had happened to us throughout elementary school. We’d laugh when it was something funny and comfort when it was something sad. We were always there for each other.

One day in seventh grade a miracle happened. Steve, a sporty, blond, slightly muscular, popular boy, asked me out. I readily said yes.

Annie was skeptical about it.

“Cat, I just don’t think it’s a good idea for you to go out with him. I mean, he is friends with that guy, Derek. You know the one
you told me about.”

“He likes me, I know it. Besides, it shouldn’t matter who his friends are.”

“But, Cat…” Annie began.

“But nothing,” I snapped, “You’re just jealous.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are”

“Fine, go out with him. But, don’t come crying to me when you get hurt.”

Annie turned her back on me and walked angrily, but gracefully away.

We had just had our first fight. And over what? A boy. At the time I didn’t care. In my opinion she was being stupid and jealous.

Our first date was awkward, but magical. We went to see a police thriller called Dead, but Not Forgotten. It was so scary that after the first ten minutes I had my head buried in his shoulder and my arms wrapped tightly around his arm.

Once it was over we called his parents to come pick us up. While we waited he turned to me and bent his head to the side slightly and stared deeply into my hazel eyes. With his gorgeous ocean blue eyes sparkling he kissed me. It was the most special moment I had ever had. I blushed and kissed him back.

For one month, a very long time in middle school, we were inseparable. He was my first love and I never wanted to let him go. He was everything to me, especially since Annie was refusing to talk to me.

One Thursday night the phone rang. It was Steve.

“Hey, Baby.” He sounded so confident and so sexy. I nearly dropped the phone when I heard his voice.

“Hi.” I replied nervously.

“Yeah, so I was wondering if you wanted to come with me to dinner tomorrow.”

“Umm…Sure I’d love to.” My voice was so shaky that I didn’t know if he even understood me.

“Great I’ll see you then.” It sounded like he was trying to hold back laughter. I smiled. He must be so happy that I said yes.

He hung up and I was on cloud nine. I couldn’t wait until tomorrow night. I dreamt of our dinner together; laughing at each others jokes, feeding each other food and at the end of the night he’d tell me he loved me and that he never wanted to be with any other girl.

When I woke up the next day, life seemed perfect. I had a boyfriend and I was happy, even Dad had been good the last week or so. That was, until I went downstairs.

I went into the kitchen and said good morning to Mom. She didn’t answer me; she didn’t even look at me. Something was wrong. As soon as she handed me my cereal I knew what it was. She had a black eye. This wasn’t her first, but it was her worst.

“Mom, what happened?” I gently asked, even though I already knew.

“Nothing, Honey.” She always called me Honey when she was close to crying. “I just tripped last night. I’m alright.”

I went over to her and hugged her. She hugged me back and told me to go eat my cereal.

Just as I sat down Dad came in the room.

“You!” He yelled as he pointed his finger at me.

“Yes, Daddy?” I whispered. I quickly bent my head. He hated it when I looked him in the eye.

“I found this in your back pack!” He held up my math test from yesterday. I had failed it. “How the hell did you do that? How could you fail?”

I wasn’t allowed to fail. I always had to get a hundred on tests that was the only way I could get into college. I had to be prefect. That’s what he wanted.

“Oh, I know,” He said sarcastically, “because you’re a failure! Nothing, but a failure. Oh, wait you are more than just a failure.
You’re a fat failure.”

He called me fat all the time. He knew how much it hurt me, but he didn’t care. He was just trying to motivate me. It never worked.

“I’m sorry. I’ll do better next time. I promise.”

“You’d better.”

I was late now. I had to go catch my bus. As I was about to grab my lunch bag Dad snatched it from my hands.

“Not today.” He said simply.

I nodded and headed out the door.

All day I was starving. My head felt very light and by mid afternoon the room was spinning. But, still I tried to have a positive outlook; at least I still had dinner with Steve.

It was six o’clock and Steve’s parents’ car was outside my door. I yelled out a good-bye as I ran out to them. It was a very small car so Steve and I had to sit very close together in the backseat, not that I minded.

We reached the restaurant. It wasn’t much more than the local pizza place, but it had a certain charm. We went inside and were seated immediately. Our booth smelled slightly of marinara sauce and the upholstery was multiple shades of red and brown. We sat down and inspected the menu. I was so hungry by this time I didn’t care what we had as long as it was a lot.

We settled on a large pepperoni pizza with extra cheese. While we waited for our food to come I tried to make conversation, but Steve never said more than a word or two. He seemed distracted; so, I asked what was wrong. He gave me one of his dazzling smiles and said “Nothin’ Babe. I’m just a little nervous.”

I smiled and said, “Yeah, me too.”

He chuckled to himself.

Our food arrived shortly after. I dug in. By the time he had finished one piece I was on my third. I was slightly embarrassed by my eating behaviour, but I thought Steve wouldn’t really mind because he liked me.

Once the pizza was done we order dessert, two large pieces of chocolate cheesecake drizzled with raspberry sauce. It was so good that I finished all mine and a quarter of his. He didn’t seem to mind, he just chuckled to himself again.

After the meal was over I excused myself to go to the washroom. When I returned I saw Steve and Derek at our table. They were laughing.

“What’s so funny?” I asked innocently. I tried to smile.

“Nothing,” Steve said “nothing except for the past month.”

“What…what do you mean?”

“Wake up Sweetheart, don’t you get it? This is all a lie. I would never go out with a girl like you.”

“Except for two hundred bucks.” Added Derek.

As they burst out laughing, I burst into tears. They stopped laughing and looked at me. I thought they were going to apologize.

“God, grow up it was just a joke”, Steve sneered. “Dude, let’s get out of here.”

They walked away. The last thing I heard them say was, “Did you see her dig into that pizza? She’s such a pig. No wonder she’s so fat.”

I ran out of the restaurant. I ran all the way to the park by my house. I wanted desperately to go see Annie, but the last words she spoke to me rang in my ears, “Don’t come crying to me when you get hurt.” She wouldn’t comfort me or help my tears to subside. She didn’t care anymore.

I hid in one of the slides at the park. I cried there for a long time. Then I began to think.

“Maybe Steve will come back to me if I look better and become more confident.” I said aloud.

In my mind I picture myself, thin, sleek and a totally hottie. Steve and Derek begging at my feet, both dying to go out with me. Then I look down on them and laugh. My new super hot boyfriend comes beside me and takes me away from those immature little boys.

I decide then and there that I had to go on a diet and go to a gym to workout. I know my father will say yes to the gym because he wants me to be perfect, both academically and physically.

I thought about all I knew about diets. That amounted to no more than what Dad had taught me, to lose weight don’t eat.

That’s what I would do, but I wouldn’t become like those anorexics you see on T.V. I’d just lose enough to get Steve back, no more and I’d always be in control. I’d become hot and sexy in no time.

As I walked home from the park, I went over my plan. I’d start small, so I wouldn’t get light headed and weak. First I’d skip lunch. That was going to be simple since I didn’t sit with anybody then. Next, I’d start keeping a food diary and count all my calories for every day. Finally, I’d go to the gym and burn off every calorie I had eaten. It was going to be so simple and would work so fast. Steve would be begging me to take him back in no time.

The first day of my new diet I asked Dad if I could join a gym. He gladly and almost proudly said yes. I was so happy to make him proud.

As I was leaving for school I grabbed my lunch off the table, as if nothing were different. No one must know what I was doing. I don’t know why, but I just thought that.

When I got off my bus and I saw Steve and Derek waiting for me. As I passed they made pig noises, just like in third grade. Except this time I held my head high. “Soon they’ll be sorry”, I told myself.

At 12:15 pm the lunch bell rang, all the other kids ran off to the cafeteria, they were all eager to eat. I, on the other hand, made my way slowing down to the cafeteria. Once I check no one was looking I tossed my lunch in the garbage. I had done it. I was on my way to being skinny.

The school day was over and I was at my house, lying on the bathroom floor crying softly. I had just weighed myself, for the first time. I had more work to do than I had first thought. 172 was what the scale had told me. At least sixty pounds to lose before I could be considered hot. I could do it, I had to.

The next day was the same, as was the day after that and the day after that. For a week my routine was the same, go to school, go to morning classes, at lunch throw food out, go to afternoon classes, go home, weigh myself and then cry for half an hour because the number wasn’t as low as I wanted it to be. Then Dad came home one day and called me into the living room.

I sat on our brand new beige sofa and stared at the floor. I was certain he had found out that I had been crying so much, but instead he said to me, “I got you a present.” He opened his hand and held out a membership card to the most expensive gym
in our town. I squealed joyful and for the first time in my life I hugged my dad. My plan was finally being set in motion.
The gym wasn’t more than a ten minute walk from the school; so, the next day after school I walked there and met with a personal trainer to establish a work out routine. I told him I wanted to lose a few pounds.

“Okay, then why don’t we start you off with a little workout and as you get stronger we’ll put it up a notch.”

“Okay”

He showed me all these different machines and said I should use each one for 10 minutes a day. I thought it would be easy, but by the third machine I could barely move. The trainer just laughed kindly and said that it would get easier as time went on.

After my workout I went home and researched how many calories I would burn on each machine. I wrote it all down into a little note book. Then I found a site on the internet that could tell me the calories of everything I ate. I was shocked to discover that even without lunch I was eating 1 500 or more calories a day. I had to fix that.

I decided I would also skip breakfast and my snacks after school. No one would notice.

The next day I took longer to get dressed than I normally did. When I got downstairs I told Mom I had slept in and didn’t have time for breakfast. She was slightly concerned, just has I thought she would be; so, I said “Don’t worry, I’ll grab an apple and eat it on the way.” That seemed to put her at ease.

I grabbed my lunch and an apple. On my way to the bus stop I was very tempted to eat it, but instead I threw the apple into the ditch. I was slowly, but surely over-coming food.

After that day I began my new routine of not having breakfast or lunch and then working out for an hour and a half after school. Every day I would weigh myself and every day it was a little less than before. At night I would then write down the calories I ate and the ones I burned.

In one month I had lost twenty pounds. People were beginning to compliment me. I always thanked them and pretended to be proud of my accomplishment. But, deep down I knew that the people who complimented me were really thinking about how far I still had to go. I mean, I may have lost twenty pounds, but when I looked in the mirror I still saw that fat little piglet.

I began a new habit of regarding myself in the mirror and lightly circling the areas that were still to big with a washable marker. I also bought posters of super models to compare myself to. There were so many “fatty parts” as I called them, and I didn’t know how I could lose them faster. I only ate one meal a day and I worked off most of those calories. What else could I do?

For a long time, I contemplated what to do. I knew I couldn’t skip supper since I always ate it with my parents. I thought and I thought and then it hit me. I may have had to eat supper, but that didn’t mean I had to keep it.

I began slowly. Every third night, after supper I’d go into the bathroom and make myself throw up. As I watched the food go down the toilet I felt true accomplishment. After that I’d weigh myself and compare myself to the posters. When I looked like them I would be perfect.

In the next month I had lost another twenty-five and by the next another twenty. I was now a size four and I was throwing up every second night. Everything was going so well. I was losing weight so quickly.

Unluckily, I became very depressed. I had no one to share my accomplishment with, plus, my birthday was coming up soon and I had no one to invite to my party. I didn’t know what to do. I still wished Annie and I were friends. I missed her everyday. I always had hoped we would become friends again.

My birthday was on May 26th, a Wednesday. No one wished me happy birthday on the bus, nor did my parents. As I walked glumly to my locker I noticed something taped to it. It was an envelope. I opened it and inside was a birthday card from Annie asking if we could be friends again. I read it and began to feel the tears coming. I ran off to find Annie.

She was at her locker. She saw me coming and when I reached her she gave me a great big hug. We were friends again. We looked at each other and began to cry.

“I’m sorry I was so mean to you”, I began.

“I’m sorry, too.”

“Do you want to come to my party Friday night?”

“Of course.”

That Friday night we both had more fun than we had had in months. We stayed up all night talking and laughing. I told I had gotten in shape and in return she told me she had a new boyfriend named Aaron. I was jealous, but still happy for her.

For the next few months we began our old routine of sleeping at each other’s houses on Friday night. Also over those few months my weight dropped down to ninety-six pounds. Annie noticed and asked if I had an eating disorder. I told her no, I had just been working out a little too much. She didn’t completely buy it, but enough to stop asking questions.

Then one night when she was sleeping over at my house I went to get changed for bed, when I returned I saw her sitting on my bed crying. I ran over.

“Annie, what’s wrong?” I asked as I held her in my arms.

“You’re dying”, she said through tears.

“What? What are you talking about? I’m not dying”

“Yes, you are” she said firmly, “I found that note book.” I stared at her. “You’re anorexic, Cat and you’re killing yourself”, she began to sob again.

I didn’t know what to do or say. I knew she was wrong. I wasn’t anorexic. I was just working out a lot. I was fine, hell I was still fat. Couldn’t she see that? I couldn’t be anorexic when I was that fat.

Annie continued to cry and every so often she’d mumble things like “Please don’t die” and “You have to get help”. I told I was fine and that I didn’t need help of any kind. She wouldn’t listen and just cried more. For the entire night she cried. I felt terrible even though I knew nothing was wrong.

Saturday morning, when her mother came to pick her up, she said “Good-bye Cat. I’ll miss you and I’m sorry.”

I didn’t know what she meant, but I would find out at school Monday. During third period I was called down to the guidance office. Annie was there as were my parents. She had told on me.

The guidance counselor told my parents I had an eating disorder and that I needed to see a doctor immediately. When they heard the news my mother began to cry, my father was silent. They quickly set up an appointment with our family doctor.
When told the situation, the doctor said he could see me right away.

We drove the doctor’s office. On the way my father began to yell at me.

“You’re pathetic, you know that? All you have is a need for attention. Eating disorder, Ha! You’re just faking. You know I’ll bet they’ll put this on your resume, little whiny brat who has a need to get attention. God, you’re so pathetic and stupid.”

I just stopped listening after awhile. I didn’t care any more, nothing matter, but being able to stick to my routine and to lose more weight. I had to find some way out of this.

When I saw the doctor he took my blood pressure and did a few other examinations. When he was done he told me to leave room while he talked to my parents. When they came out my mother told me I was being sent to the hospital.

“Why? I’m fine. Nothing’s wrong!” I yelled at her. No one understood.

“You have no choice, Honey, you have to go.” She said quietly.

I went, but I was not happy about it. I had to stay in the hospital for a month. Annie would come and see me every other day and I’d see psychiatrists every day for an hour. They put a feeding tube in me until I was willing to eat. After that month they released me. I had gained twenty pounds. I was not happy. The next day I started my routine again.

Over the next few years I was in and out of the hospital for months at a time. I’d go in play along and do as they told me and then as soon as I was out I’d start my routine again. I stopped caring about anything, except for maybe Annie. I really cared about her and I hated that what I was doing to myself hurt her, but I couldn’t stop. I had said, multiple times, that I’d stop for her, but I just couldn’t. But, no matter how many times I failed Annie was always there to help me and stayed by my side.

The last time I was brought in I weighed seventy-seven pounds. The doctors said my heart couldn’t take much more of this and if I didn’t stop I would die. I knew I couldn’t stop.

Earlier today, when Annie came to see me I looked her straight in the eye and told her I was going to die.

“No, you’re not”, she said with a shaky voice as her eyes began to well up with tears, “you can make it through this. I know you can. Please don’t die.”

“I’m sorry for everything I put you through and I want to thank you for all you’ve done for me. I’m sorry, but I can’t stop and I’m going to die” I said to her in a calm voice, even as the tears rolled down my cheeks.

For the next hour, we talked about all the good times we had together and we cried a lot. I was going to miss her and she was going to miss me that I was sure of. When she left we hugged for the last time and told each other how much we loved and cared about each other. That was the last time I’d ever see Annie again.

It’s 11:55 at night, my parents had left hours ago. I told them how much I loved them and hugged and kissed them both, much to my father’s surprise, and said good-bye.

Now it’s 11:56 pm and I’m still awake. The only noise I can hear is the beep…beep…beep of the machines around me. I fall asleep clutching Winnie, thinking of Annie and listening to that sound.

Beep…

Beep…

Beep…

Beep…

Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeepppp…

The doctor and nurses run in. They do all they can. The doctor then pulls away and grimly looks at the patient and then at his watch.

“Time of death”, he says somberly, “12:00 am, May 26th.”