She sat with a knife to her stomach.

The one that was usually kept under her pillow to keep the monsters at bay as she slept.

The monster was inside her now.

She had to get him out and no amount of purging or starving had worked.  This

was the option left to her.

She could hear footsteps above her.

They didn’t deter her. Her housemates would not come down.

They never did.

No one did.

She craved to be alone. Away from the yelling and the endless questions of her

parent’s home.

Now that she was, she faced her darkest thoughts.

 

Her memories of his hands moving across her maturing body. Her mind racing. She was eleven and could not understand his desires. His touch made her sick, though she did not know why.

 

As her hand shook she grabbed a chunk of her skin thinking of the best place

for the incision to begin. She wanted to make sure that she removed the largest

amount of fat. As much of the ugliness that she could. She knew that when they

found her they would have to repair her and she would be small again. Rid of

the monster that had made her large for so long.

 

Her grandmother’s voice called out for him from the kitchen. He continued to move his old hand over her chest. So slowly. Right to left like he was feeling a treasure for the first time.

The voice called for him again. This time he stopped moving his hand and lifted it off of her stiff body. He got off of the bed and walked towards the open bedroom door, telling her it was time for lunch.

 

The room was spinning and somehow had gotten darker. The tip of the knife

should of hurt her but she felt nothing. It was not as sharp as she had hoped

and after ten years of fighting, her arms were too weak to push the blade

through.

She wanted the sickening pain out of herself so badly. She wanted everyone one

to know her secrets so that they no longer ate her alive. Longing to be done she

tried again to extract the wickedness he had so smoothly rubbed into her. She

could not.

A feeling that did not come from within herself enveloped the room. It seemed

to tell her there was another way. Her voice had been pushed back into her

throat all of these years but the feeling that surrounded her told her she could

speak. Still, no sound left her as she gagged on the sobs that were released.

She heard the clang of the metal blade hitting the cement floor. It was her first

word in her fight to survive.