Post by .Emmi. on Jun 3, 2009 5:29:55 GMT -5
'Hey Ebony, what's wrong?' Sander asked, and Ebony almost flipped; she had no idea what to say - best to say nothing, she thought.
They were walking up from the gymnasium to the cafeteria, Ebony still decked in her competition tracksuit with her bag swung over one shoulder. The strap was digging into her bony shoulder, every step banging the bag against her protruding hipbones and ribs and she was panicking internally. How to avoid eating? How to avoid eating?!
Her stomach churned at the though of it; one peach per week for the past month and so far was s good - she'd already returned to 66lbs and therefore had only one more to lost before she was back to normal. She couldn't ruin her work now...
'Oh, nothing, Sander, nothing. Hmm...' she took a deep breath in as she smelled breakfast from further into the school with a fake smile still on her face. She felt vaguely nauseous but kept up the act nonetheless.
'Smells OK, doesn't it?' Her statement was enthusiastic, but forced, and her brain was still whirring as she strove to find a way to avoid eating.
Upon entering the hall, her senses were assaulted with the scents of frying, greasy and salted and awful; it made her sick to breathe and so she did so only shallowly and through her mouth. She began to feel dizzy again and so threw herself into a seat as soon as she found a free table; it was a small one that only seated four. She slipped her bag off her shoulders and dropped it between her feet then looked up [quite a way up as Snader was considerably taller than her when seated] expectantly.
'So, you going to go get something to eat? I'll mind the table, if you want.' She flashed him a stunning smile and settled back a little on her chair, her spine grating against the wooden back of it uncomfortably.
They were walking up from the gymnasium to the cafeteria, Ebony still decked in her competition tracksuit with her bag swung over one shoulder. The strap was digging into her bony shoulder, every step banging the bag against her protruding hipbones and ribs and she was panicking internally. How to avoid eating? How to avoid eating?!
Her stomach churned at the though of it; one peach per week for the past month and so far was s good - she'd already returned to 66lbs and therefore had only one more to lost before she was back to normal. She couldn't ruin her work now...
'Oh, nothing, Sander, nothing. Hmm...' she took a deep breath in as she smelled breakfast from further into the school with a fake smile still on her face. She felt vaguely nauseous but kept up the act nonetheless.
'Smells OK, doesn't it?' Her statement was enthusiastic, but forced, and her brain was still whirring as she strove to find a way to avoid eating.
Upon entering the hall, her senses were assaulted with the scents of frying, greasy and salted and awful; it made her sick to breathe and so she did so only shallowly and through her mouth. She began to feel dizzy again and so threw herself into a seat as soon as she found a free table; it was a small one that only seated four. She slipped her bag off her shoulders and dropped it between her feet then looked up [quite a way up as Snader was considerably taller than her when seated] expectantly.
'So, you going to go get something to eat? I'll mind the table, if you want.' She flashed him a stunning smile and settled back a little on her chair, her spine grating against the wooden back of it uncomfortably.