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Her

There are no monsters under the bed.

My body jolted awake as the sound of the alarm clock rung throughout the room. She’s already awake. Sleep is the only time she leaves me alone, although I know she is always there watching, waiting for me to wake up. Sure enough, there she sat in an almost contorted position.

“Morning, you look disgusting,” she says with a smirk, her body slowly coming out of the distorted position. Then she was at the end of my bed watching me, her head twisting from one side to the other.

Her bony finger points towards the calendar, “Today’s the day,” I hear her say in a way that makes my stomach churn. Today’s date is circled in bright red, it’s even underlined.

Steadying myself as my knees begin to quiver, I begin to stand, waiting for the fuzziness in my head to clear. She nudges me to get moving, she is the only reason I did anything anymore. Feeling her glare on me, a pair of dark eyes that never blink, that never stops watching me. Her eyes ensure I don’t stray.

Getting down onto the floor, I begin to exercise, doing sit-ups until twangs of pain flood my stomach. Why can’t she see how much I try to please her?

Stripping off every piece of clothing, glancing away from the shattered mirror. Blood and shattered glass covered the floor. As I turn on the shower and step in, I knock my thigh and begin to chew the inside of my cheek harshly. Blood streams down my leg, I step out of the shower to examine the wound. I look down at the freshly reopened scar and find that she was no longer there. She doesn’t like when I have the power. When I have the power, she goes away.

Stepping back into the shower, letting the water cascade over me, the blood streams down my leg. I don’t mind, as long as she is gone. The coppery smell of blood is masked out by the smell of my body wash. Getting out and dressing in clothes that I’m certain don’t fit just right, they feel awkward on my body. Walking into the kitchen seeing my mum had laid out a breakfast for me. Gulping is hard trying to clear the feeling of salvia accumulating in my mouth. One bite couldn’t hurt.

Sitting down at the table, picking up the fork slowly my hand begins to quiver. There were eggs, hash browns, and baked beans. Taking a single bite and swallowing the food which was now cold, she emerges into the room. Her twisted smile is now a prominent frown.

“I’m sorry,” I began pleading, dropping to my knees. She places her fingers down my throat until I threw the food back up. Tears forming in my eyes, I put the rest of the food into the bin, cleaning up the mess I made. The guilt filling my stomach, making me no longer feel hungry.

She watches me as though she’s an overprotective parent but acts as though she is God all while wearing my clothes. She sends me back upstairs to keep my mind off food. Organising and then reorganising my room keeps my mind occupied. My parents are starting to worry, it’s a little late for them to be worried now.

“We have to try to find an outfit, all the other ones you put on were disgusting,” she began to sneer into my ear climbing onto my back, leaching onto me.

“Let’s try a different shop this time, you ruined all the dresses at the other shop,” she continues to sneer as we make our way to the shops. Walking into a new store, I begin looking around.

“Hey there hun, I’m Gia. Anything I can help you with?” I hear a voice say, noticing the shop attendant looking over at me. She has the same look on her face that everyone else does. A look of concern.

“I’m trying to find a nice dress that will fit,” I reply softly my fingers brushing over the different materials of different dresses.

“I can help you, what size are you?” Gia asks looking me up and down.

“If you hadn’t eaten that bit of food she wouldn’t be looking at you like that.” Her voice cut through me, she's still leaching onto my back.

“I think I’m around a size 12,” I say looking down at myself, shame flowing through my veins.

“Hun you’re not a size 12,” My stomach dropping, my fists clenching. “You’re more like a size 6, if that, you’re so skinny.” I hear Gia say. My fists unclenching and it made her purr into my ear.

“You could try this dress on,” She says as she hands me a red dress. Nodding, I take it into the change room.

My heart began to beat rapidly as I was getting short of breath. It felt as though if I stepped into the changing room it would close in on me like some sort of Indiana Jones movie. Jumping off my back she pushes me into the change room.

Stripping down, I stare into the mirror, seeing my fat bulging over my underwear. My hands began to spread over my body, my fingers gripping my stomach harshly leaving red marks on my skin.

Slipping the dress on, it hangs off my body but, she makes the mirror tell a different story.

I unlock the door hesitantly as Gia was asking to see the dress on me. “You look incredible in that dress,” she says.

“Don’t listen to her you look disgusting,” she hissed standing beside Gia.

“Could I see another dress, this isn’t really what I’m going for,” I say politely looking down at my hands.

“I’ll go have a look,” she says walking back onto the store floor. I step back into the changing room and quickly peel the dress off.

“She was lying to you, she knows you’re fat. She was just trying to make you feel better.”

Knocking on the door, I hear Gia’s soft voice on the other side. I crack the door open so I could reach the dress she's handing to me. It’s a dark green long-sleeved dress, I put it on, it seems to fit, she doesn’t say anything, she has no objections. She thinks the dress is good enough, even though she thinks the exact opposite of me.

Changing back into my own clothes, going to pay for the dress. “Thank you,” I say softly finally looking into her eyes. She was clearly taken back as she saw how sunken in eyes were.

“You’re welcome,” she replies handing me the bag with the dress inside.

The aroma of dinner filled the house. “Dinner is going to be ready in 30 minutes, love,” Mum states. I walked into the kitchen wrapping my arms around her.

“I love you mum,” I whisper softly tears forming in my eyes. Wiping them away before she could see, I rush up to my room.

She slivers off me and begins jumping around making a mess of my room. Tidying up after her, before sitting on my bed with a piece of paper and pen in my hand, twirling the pen between my fingers

“You should write, ‘I’m a disgusting pig, I wasn’t losing weight so I’ve decided to end it all.’ You should say ‘I’m ugly and fat and don’t deserve to live.’” She says leaping around my room.

“Dinner!” Mum calls out to me, she latches herself onto me quickly writing “she (I?) won,” before heading downstairs.

Taking a seat at the dinner table, I put a small amount of food onto my plate. She hovers over me, her cold, cruel hands gripping my shoulders, she keeps my arms from lifting any food to my lips and whispers “pretty girls don’t eat.”

Making little conversation even though little of what I said could be heard over my parents' fighting. My sister is fighting back tears, her innocent eyes looking into mine. I’m glad she hasn’t got her on her back, I want her to be happy. After pushing the food around my plate, I get up and place the rest of the remaining food in the bin. Going back upstairs without a word, I look over my shoulder noticing my sister watching me, I think she can see Her.

Taking off my silver locket, I place it on top of my note. I don’t exactly know why she came into my life, she came when I was losing control and she helps me gain it back.

Sitting on the floor in front of the mirror painting my face with makeup, adding blush to give my translucent skin some colour and swiping mascara across my lashes. Straightening my hair carefully before putting my dark green dress on, placing black shoes on lastly.

She began to snicker and cheer “It’s getting close,” she says. Shakily running my fingers through my hair wanting her to leave, unable to think when she was around. She has moulded me into someone else, but I can’t live with her and I can’t live without her.

“I promise I’m going to fix everything,” she says, her head leaning on top my shoulder, her black eyes looking into the mirror as her hands roam my body searching for any bulges of fat and squeezing them. “You’re almost there,” she says with a smirk.

Standing there looking into the mirror, seeing myself before she came into our lives. She was young, carefree and she had the largest smile I had ever seen. Closing my eyes I look just like her, I am her. Reopening my eyes, her black eyes were staring into mine, stumbling back. “You can join her,” she says outstretching her hand waiting for me to place my hand in hers.

Hesitantly placing my hand in hers, I stand up to follow her into the bathroom. She sits beside the bathtub as I begin to fill it up. As the bath begins to fill up, I go to make sure my bedroom door is locked and I grab the bottle of sleeping pills along with a cup of water. Switching off the tap, I climb into the bathtub. My shaking hands begin to ease slowly.

“It’s silly to live when life is torture. The only cure is death,” she says tucking a strand of my light brown hair behind my ear. I place a handful of pills into my mouth and use the water to help them down my throat. I then place another handful moments later, to ensure it would work.

Drowsiness begins to consume my body, my heart rate dropping and my breathing slowing. Feeling almost euphoric, feeling complete control which is all my own. She was leaning over looking into my eyes, they were the last things I saw before my eyes fluttered shut.

My eyes wavered open and instead of seeing myself as I wanted, I was laying in the hospital bed, my frail body covered in tubes. A sterile smell filled my nose, and my eyes met with harsh white lights. I wasn’t sure how to feel, I don’t think I could be here without her. She assured me I had taken enough pills. Looking around, I couldn't see her or her contorted smile.

It was the middle of the night when a nurse by side was checking on my vitals, “Welcome back beautiful,” she spoke softly. I hadn’t heard that word in such a long time. Looking to my side I saw my mum fast asleep, her hand in mine with my silver locket around her neck.

“How long do I have to stay here?” I ask with a hoarse voice, my throat aching, my spare hand immediately going around my neck to rub it. The nurse giving me a concerned yet comforting look.

“You’re going to be here a while sweetie, we need to make sure you won’t try this again and to get you back to a normal weight.” Gulping, my mind immediately thought about gaining weight, I pulled both of my lips inside my mouth and bit down on them reflexively.

My mum bought clothes in for me, while I was staying here. I have a meeting with the psychologist today. Eating a bite of an apple without the need to throw it back up, I smiled to myself. I put on clothes before walking to the office. I sat down on the chair opposite the psychologist, he had the same concerned look in his eyes as the shop attendant.

“I’m Dr. Charles and I’m here to help you, I want to really reiterate that I’m not your enemy,” He says with a concerned yet collected expression on his face.

Nodding my head looking up at him rather than looking down at my hands.

"What you are suffering from is an eating disorder, anorexia nervosa also known as anorexia. Which is characterized by abnormally low body weight, distorted perception of weight they also gain control their weight and food intake.” He describes to me.

Shaking my head not wanting to hear what he had to say, not wanting to accept anything he had to say to me.

A sigh escapes his lips, “I’ll be back in a moment, I just need to consult with your doctor,” he says to me, getting up and leaving the room. Silence fills the room, I trailed my thumb and pointer finger up and down my prominent collarbone.

Sitting up, I hear the door open, waiting for the person to introduce themselves. A person took a seat beside me, “Hi I’m Ana, we’ve met before,” she says turning to look at me, there she was again. Placing her hand on my thigh rubbing it reassuringly, “You’ve been eating haven’t you,” she says gripping my thigh tightly, leaving a painful red mark. “I need you to forget everything the doctor said and listen to me, I’m in control,” she says as she re-attaches herself me, walking me back to my room.

Walking into my room, I see my little sister crouching under my hospital bed.

“I’m checking for monsters, so they can’t hurt you anymore,” she says, “There’s none under there anymore, I scared them all away.” She finishes with a triumphant smile on her face. Grabbing hold of her hand, I help her onto my bed. “Thank you for checking under my bed for me,” I said playing with her dark blonde hair. There were no monsters under the bed.

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