I study my reflection as I pull the swelteringly hot straighteners through my thin hair. The falsely purple strands tumble flow over my face; a thick violet curtain to hide who I am.
I scan my clothes, tugging on the fabrics. I hate how big I am. I’m thinner than any of my friends, but my clothes always feel too small. I loathe how they hug my skin, cling to my stomach and back, highlight my embarrassingly large body.
Pulling the straighteners from their socket, I race downstairs.
“Will you be eating with us today?”
“No. Not hungry.”
Truthfully, I’m not hungry. I’m starving. I haven’t eaten for almost three days. But eating makes you fat.
Checking my make-up in the screen of my phone, I leave. School-time.
School was as boring as ever. The whole year was pulled out of class for an ‘anti-anorexia day.’ Just some doctor lecturing us about the side effects of anorexia, and leaflet about where you could get help.
I slam the door, staggering up the stairs to my room. I’m numb from sitting in the hall all day.
Throwing my tie onto the end of the bed, I look around my room. I have the creepy feeling that I’m being watched.
Out of the corner of my eye, that’s where I see the creatures.
She stands, clothes hanging from her impossibly thin body. Her skin stretches over her bones, making each joint clearly visible, as if she had no flesh or muscle. She raises a hand to her head, the indigo locks tumbling away at her touch. Panicking, her breath hyperventilates, her ribs almost ripping from her chest. She screams, the skin around her mouth cracking and splitting like old paint. Blood drips from the cuts forming across her cheeks, mixing with the tears rolling down.
Terrified, I dive onto the bed, burying my face into the pillows, the creature haunting my every thought.
Suddenly, I realise why the creature was so familiar.
I realise why I was so terrified.
I realise where exactly I saw the creature.

I was looking in the mirror.