tonight i woke up feeling a bit empty inside, mostly because i hadn't eaten but partly because emotionally i have died. these days tend to pass by like netflix series my dad's bank account can't afford us to catch up on. it's sad. but life moves on. i walk down to the kitchen fully dressed in uniform as everyone still gets ready. i see-section the insides of each cupboard, searching for something to eat. i finally find something —balanced right there on the counter between the milk carton and spoon. a bowl of cereal. after pouring the fresh milk into my plate i walk over to the living room and sit on the couch. cozy. i pay less and less attention to each spoon i swollow, allowing myself to be hypnoyized by the animation broadcasted on tv.

woahh haven't seen you eat breakfast for like weeks now, my little sister comments in shock as she walks into the kitchen.

i stop and reality gives me a slap right across the face. i abandon the bowl like a baby left on the front doorstep of a home. but of course not really. i rush into the bathroom, shut the door and instinctively stick my two fingers down my throat in an attempt to empty the contents of my stomach. not everything comes out so i panic. it didn't work. then... as if i were in a trance, i cup a handful of water from the sink into my mouth and swallow. i do this until i am full. i return to the crime scene and remember to pull my braids into a ponytail this time. my fingers are thrust deep into the back of my throat again and i throw up, rewarded when everything comes out this time. as gross as it may sound, sometimes it tastes bitter. sometimes sour. pleased that the food is now swirling down the drain, i use toilet paper to clean around the basin and floor. i always cover up my tracks. a few mintues later, i'm suffocated by a familiar dizziness and grip the sides of the sink before i stumble across my image. in the mirror, i stare at the familiar chocolate brown. it is me, but only different. my eyes are bloodshot and watering. deep lines are stretched into bags under my eyes, and i look like a mess. well, metphorically i am a mess.