I stood outside of the kitchen. My stomach growled, but I refused to let it have any satisfaction anymore. Just keep staring at the TV, and it’ll go away, I thought to myself.

It didn’t. It stayed with me throughout the night. I wanted to go get a midnight snack, but I refused to let myself sink so low when I’d come so far.

Why did I start this? I asked myself, but I soon found the answer in the back of my head. High School.

On my first day of High School at an ever-prodigious boarding school on the east coast, I was laughed at. I was laughed at because I was over-weight. Or so I think.

So now, I choose not to eat. If I do, I throw up.

Yes, I’m an anno-bulemic.

Can you hang on just a second? I see a note under my bed.

Dear Franceska,
This is coming from all of us at school.
We’re sorry if you thought we were laughing at you—we weren’t. I swear on my grave.
We were actually laughing at a sign behind you. You came in right in front of it.
I’m running out of paper space.

TBC .