TW: self harm, anorexia, mental health issues

She was the most beautiful girl in the room, able to enchant any man she desired. Men drooled helplessly for her, like puppies. Even the girls all wanted to be friends with her, in the hopes that they could some day be like her.

She moved suggestively down corridors and hallways, her curves moving up and down in the most elegant fashion.

Everyone wanted her. Women wanted to be her; men just wanted to be with her. Everyone loved her.

But, even with all of that, she was miserable. She hated herself. And it was because she had to face her reflection.

Her reflection didn’t reflect her outside beauty in the slightest. Instead, it showed her insecurities. She was down to 45 pounds and had never felt fatter in her life. Her skin had flared up to the point that no concealer or foundation could hide it. What was worse was the scars all over her body in moments where she felt absolutely nothing, that nobody ever saw or suspected. Why should they? She was living what they considered a dream life.

She hated her life though. A life of being held prisoner by her own anxieties, bound down by her self image. She felt her insides turn as she thought of the small amounts of food she had eaten in order to stay in shape.

She needed this. It was the only control she had in her chaotic life. She had to keep it a secret though, because she knew she would be stopped if anyone knew.

She wasn’t perfect. She was just surviving as best as she could.