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A girl suffering with an eating disorder finds herself a little friend who is starved unwilling. The two help each other heal.


Submitted:Jan 2, 2013    Reads: 41    Comments: 0    Likes: 0   


*PENELOPE*

I watch my deteriorated supper spill out of my mouth into the toilet. Orange carrots, mushed up meat, and some green grape pieces are still visible. I am not disgusted. I am used to this. Every single meal or snack I eat, ends up in either this toilet of the toilet at work. Some people would probably say I have a problem, but they would never say it to my face. It is one of those "unmentionable" topics. I don't care, because it is not a problem to me. It is just a way of life. It may not be a way of life for everyone else, but it works just fine for me.

I wake up at 4:45 every morning. I go into my basement and run five miles, then I go on my abdominal machine with weights for about thirty minutes. Then I will do yoga for a cool-down. I will eat breakfast. Breakfast every morning consists of two graham crackers with peanut butter, and a bottle of apple juice. I keep it in, because I know that I will need something to keep me going after that workout. Then I will shower, and get dressed. I work at a fashion magazine as an assistant, so my typical outfit is a suit from Chanel, or Dolce and Gabana and a pair of Jimmy Choo high heels. My bag matches my outfit every day. Then I head to work. I go through about six treacherous hours of people bitching at me, and then I go to the cafeteria to eat my lunch. My lunch is never a large lunch. It is usually some sort of sandwich or salad. I sit at a round table by myself. People stare, and I ignore. Then I go to the bathroom and stick my finger down my throat and purge myself of the impurities that I just put into my body. I feel much better, stress is gone, food is gone, and I continue with the three hours I have left.

After work I head home. I live alone, just me, myself and I. I make myself a great dinner every night, and then I always bring a plate to my mother who lives a block away. After I eat, I again, purge myself of the carbs, calories, and fats that I just poisoned my body with. Then I will bike for twenty miles, catch up on some reading and get some sleep.

On this particular day, I decided to skip the bike ride and just go for a jog to the park that was about 1.3 miles away, and has a trail that goes about 4.7 miles around, then trek back home. As I started jogging I instantly felt the stress lift right off my shoulders. I jogged to my iPod, and I counted steps: One, two, three; one, two three; one two three. It was kind of a cold night and as I jogged the cold air spewed into my eyes causing them to tear. My cheeks burned red and I ran on. I felt the cold burn of my thighs and feet working hard.

*PUPPY*

Food. Food. Give me your food! I'm hungry dude. Mmm, is that steak I smell? It is! It is steak; a big, juicy, medium-rare steak and I deserve a bite! A HUUGE BITE! I stood on my two hind legs and waved my two front paws at my owner. Hey! What about me big guy? My owner, The Big Guy, might give me a little piece if I am lucky tonight. He looks at me with disdain and kicks me so my eighteen pound body hits the wall on the other side of the room. I squeal and bark. I lose my breath. I find strength to get up and go to my kennel, where it is safe. He can't get me in here. I guess I am not that hungry anyways.

The Big Guy doesn't feed me much. I'm starving. This morning, like every morning, I wake up and I am let outside to go to the bathroom. I usually have to pee, but I don't understand how The Big Guy expects me to go number two. I don't eat enough to be able to go number two. I didn't go this morning, and he gave me a good smacking across my head. Ouch. Then he pulls me by my curly black ears and drags me inside. He locks me in my kennel and leaves. I fall asleep snuggling up to my favorite toy, Mr. Duck. My daily nap ends just as it always does by a jolt. My kennel moves and I know it's the Big Guy's foot kicking my kennel to awake me. My stomach growls. It loathes for food. The big Guy lets me outside to run around a little bit. He goes inside, just like usual, to grab a beer. Then, something unusual happened.

*PENELOPE*

My arms are pumping hard. I am tired but I keep going. I remember why I usually bike after dinner instead of run. My electrolytes are imbalanced. I start to feel very heavy in the head. I see black spots all over. I blink hard to make it go away. I must keep running. Go away black spots. Go away!

*PUPPY*

A man walks into our small, beat up shack. He doesn't look happy. I can sense danger. It is my first instinct to protect the one's I love. I grab Mr. Duck and flee. The Big Guy is getting defensive, he keeps mumbling crazy words about, nets? Bets? I'm not sure. The smaller man pulls out a gun. The Big Guy puts his hands up.

*PENELOPE*

I start breathing very fast, and I have to stop myself. I walk over to a tree and grab it to hold myself up. I don't have my phone, I cannot call anyone to come help me. I regognize an all too familiar feeling. I sway back and forth, back and forth, and I go down.

*PUPPY*

Freeeeeedom! That's all I could think as I sprinted out the front door of that awful house! My paws padded all the way down the street, through the alley, across the bridge, and now I was almost to a park that one of my dog friends had told me about! I see something! It looks like a squirrel from here! I must go get that squirrel! Air blows in and out quickly through my nose, my senses are going into overload. This doesn't smell like any squirrel that I've ever smelt. I smell, um, a strong fruity smell, and a slight whiff of body odor. I get closer, and see that it is no squirrel at all, it is a human, just like The Big Guy, but much prettier. She's sleeping. I want to wake her up!

*PENELOPE*

I feel rain coming down on me; hitting me in the mouth, the eyes, the ears, the nose.

*PUPPY*

Lick, lick, lick, lick away this human's germs. Lick, lick, lick. She's got a great nose. Slurrrrp.

*PENELOPE*

My eyes open. It is not raining! Holy Moses! There is a cute little, possibly diseased, dog licking my face. I stand up and shake it off of me. It gets scared. I look around the park for an owner, but there is no one to be seen. It isn't my problem though so I start my walk home. This pooch follows me.

*PUPPY*

Hey lady, where do you think you're going?

*PENELOPE*

I get about two blocks away from my house. I'm not even sure how because this whole time I have been blacking out. I start seeing butterflies spinning around my head, and tornadoes of sand whirling around me. Blackness.

*PUPPY*

Um, oh my goodness. Clean up on aisle twelve! This nice lady is down again. I don't know what her problem is, she must like to sleep a lot. I notice that I am getting cold. I start howling. "Rooooooo! Ahh-rooooooo!" My howling continues for a good thirty minutes. The, I am surprised by an old woman running and screaming.

*PENELOPE*

I wake up. Where am I? I look around, and gather that I am in a hospital. Am I hurt? I check to make sure all of my limbs are in working order. They are. Phew. I drift back off.

*PUPPY*

This is an interesting new kennel. That crazy old lady gave me some food: lots, and lots of food. Then she locked me up in a kennel, which smells like a different dog but I don't care because at least it isn't covered in feces like my old kennel. This house is heated, and it is wonderful. I turn around three times, and lay down on the fluff pillow and drift off.

*PENELOPE*

My mother shakes me. I wake up. She tells me that I fainted and my body fluids are very low. She says that a cute little black cockapoo puppy saved my life. It howled and howled. She came outside, and noticed that just down the block a dog was howling next to a person who was down. As she got closer she recognized me and called an ambulance. She said she didn't know what to do with the dog. It looked as if it was starving. It had no name tag and she did not recognize it. She kept it in her house and gave it some food. She said we would put up signs. My mother also told me that the doctors noticed my esophagus was on the verge of a hole being burnt through it. Shoot. My mother doesn't need to know about that. "You are going to get help sweet heart."

The next two months I went through intensive out-patient care. I had to live with my mother and she watched me, made sure I ate every day, and kept it in. My work out levels were toned down to a daily walk. The dog, that I have named Reighna, has not been claimed by anyone. Apparently her old owner was arrested and killed in prison. The authorities said I could keep the dog because otherwise it would go to the pound. I started to love this dog that had been through such torture. It had starved and was tortured and there was nothing she could do about it. She taught me a valuable lesson. I had starved myself, and abused my body almost to my breaking point. I ignored all of the great gifts I have in life, while others who are not so blessed take everything they get and love it. I have got this dog back up to par. It eats two full meals a day. We go for a walk every day. I have given her the tender love and care that she has desperately needed, and she has done the same for me.

*REIGHNA-THE PUPPY*

Food. Food. Give me your food! I'm hungry! I wanna snack! Mmm, is that steak I smell? It is! It is steak; a big, juicy, medium-rare steak and I deserve a bite! A HUUGE BITE! I stood on my two hind legs and waved my two front paws at my new owner. She said "Sit." I sat. She said, "Paw." I gave her my paw. Then she handed to me a large piece of steak! MMMMMMM. Deeeeee-licious!





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