My head hurts. It spins,

Like the world,

Quickly and slowly,

Torturing and painfully,

Invading my mind.

I haven’t had food in so long,

Just little scraps,

And my stomach is rumbling like an earthquake

But every time I reach for something,

My hand snaps back as a little voice inside me screams,


You can’t have that, silly, you’re already fat.

But the other voice quietly says

Honey, you’re only 89 pounds

You can stand one little blackberry

It won’t hurt you.

I gaze at the little carton of delicious berries.

So tempting. My tongue waters.

I need it. I’m starving.

No one’s around. I guess I could have just one.

A door swings open.

A refridgerator door closes.

Maybe another time.


The End

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