The Act of Falling
She is searching for the chocolate cupcake (185×1=185 calories) she swore not to touch till Saturday, ignoring the voice of reason inside herself.
Stop living in denial. You’ve got to stop.
A bite. Then one more. Another one. Just one more…
Don’t forget your diet schedule. Remember what happened last time?
Flashes of a memory: shoving two fingers down the throat, retching and panting and heaving until the three pastries (650×3=1950 calories) float away in the drain. The act of emptying oneself.
Five bites, two tears escaping from eyes squeezed shut. It is hard to forget, even when you have chocolate melting on your tongue.
A memory persisting, the voice screaming at her to stop…
She rushes to the sink and spits, gargling until she senses the taste of water replacing everything. She sighs softly, but it is a measured sigh, meant for the unseen observer, expressing a regret she does not really feel.
Too soon, it is that time of the day.
She wants to escape outside of herself, fly away from her own thoughts, with a feather-like and small body. She watches herself through the eyes of another, soaring across infinity, beautiful and unattainable. She is Icarus, her wings burning in the sun’s fire; she is a fallen angel, drowning in a terrifying ecstasy as she descends towards sin. She is falling, but she is untethered. Unleashed. Free.
She returns to her body, bound in flesh and bone she will leave behind someday.
For now, she holds her breath and steps onto the weighing machine.