M-easure

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Young Adult  |  House: Booksie Classic
Bambii's struggle with Anorexia & Bulimia.

Submitted: May 13, 2012

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Submitted: May 13, 2012

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An eerie silence was apparent in the looming corridors of Manor Park High School. The lights flickered and wavered, almost too shy to show themselves, to rather be hidden comfortably in their plastic shell of security. The wind exhaled and thrust various pieces of debris against the derelict walls. A steady but growing rumble arose. The floorboards quivering, the windows swinging, first like a steady rocking chair in a light breeze, then furiously, the dripping of the April showers dispersing into cracks in the boards and then - it began. The shrill of the school bell echoed through the walls, its piercing scream lashing each corner of the unsteady and crumbling foundations.

An instant uproar of chattering and laughing flocked from the main exits. Thundering feet pounded against the stairs and the windows shuddered in fear. Brown flakes of paint lay scattered across the floor like autumn leaves and the door hinges groaned before flexing open to release the mob. Bambii faltered through the crowds, her spindly legs weaving in, out, around; the fresh grazes on her elbows battling against the brick walls. She had to get out. She ran her fingers down the mahogany banister of the main staircase, her eyes glazed but her mind focused on her escape. She wasn’t running from teachers or overdue work or failed exams, she was running from them, and they were catching up. She flung herself round the corner of the English block and stopped to take a sharp breath, the air billowed into her sallow cheeks and she rested her head against the brick. Ana was encouraging, “Think of all the calories we’re burning!” Bambii allowed a smile to tickle her lips but her collision into ‘them’ made it fall.

“What do you think you’re running from? Did you forget about our deal? Poor Bambii weep weep.” They grouped around her, their prey, their fists clenched and their teeth gritted. They took great pleasure in watching her shrink into the walls as they attacked her from every angle, their faces filled with glee, the great catch of their tiresome hunt. A painful shove in the stomach and her arms in knots, the searing of unbearable pain, white noise echoing in her ears, their taunting cackles, “Fat. Worthless. Filth”; Ana’s participation, “Do better, if you were thin they wouldn’t be saying these things” and the bitter taste of a crimson river with crumbling cliffs and grains of dirt and it was over. For today that is. She picked herself up off the floor and a silent tear trickled into the concaves of her cheeks. Shuddering and trying to catch her breath, she readjusted her clothing, brushed her grazed hands over her stained cheeks and limped towards her father’s car.

Bambii’s eyes passed over the window and her reflection bored deep into her soul, it reached out, but she turned away swiftly before it too, was revolted by what it saw. Her father’s eyes were heavy and blank vast oceans of nothingness. In life you can be blessed only once and in order to gain you must first lose everything, Bambii had lost everything. Her father had turned to drink to fill the hole her mother left, he stopped working and the sparks that once lit up in his emerald orbs diminished. He seldom checked her bruises, meals, grades, it was a constant waiting game and he couldn’t wait to get out of the labyrinth of pain and suffering. He glanced at Bambii’s empty lunch bag, she avoided his glare but uttered, “Gone.” He grunted, his seal of approval and with Ana in the back seat complacent with another twisted lie, they drove past the gates. Past the peeling brown paint and past the spinal cord of a floating footpath and away from a crowd of angry magpies. The angry birds clasped in crooked fingers what the receiver had neglected to consume, a bruised apple, crumbled biscuits and a sealed ham sandwich. The thieves took their goods from behind the tree stump and fled to their safe houses.

She was so hungry. Her stomach devouring itself, full of nothing and hard to please, its anguished cries hard to suffocate.  The overwhelming wave of hunger overtook all rational thought. It surged through her pulsating veins with the little fuel it had.  The binge begun. Cakes and chocolates and bread and cheese and meat, anything she could find, thrown into the chute barely touching the sides of her mouth.  Flaking pastry and sweet desserts, their scents lingering in the air, the wave of hunger being calmed with every bite. Fistfuls of cake and cans of soda and the wave settled. Bambi brushed off a rim of viscous sugar above her upper lip and shrunk inside the pantry as his shadow grew. Her father towered over her, his muscles in perfect form, rising stature, but his eyes, lost. He grabbed her hair as she cowered into the corner, each follicle is tugged free; once a long and flaxen rope of gold it became split and matted. “He bellowed in her ears, “What do you think you’re doing, you fat, stupid, good for nothing.”  Ana loomed behind him taunting and applauding his hatred, Ana had been betrayed and Bambii was now to suffer for it. Bambii pushed her crooked and chewed nails deep into the parrell lines on her wrist, she felt it burn but the satisfaction was not enough, it was then she felt more inadequate than ever and only the scales could assist her self- hatred more. With handfuls of yellowed moss he backed out, towards the shadows to hide once again in his cloak of darkness, his huge figure stealing any attempt of hope from the shards of glass glistening along the window pane.

Bambii screamed, but nothing on the outside, came out. Internally however the screams of her heart, her overfilled stomach and her burdened brain reverberated in unison. In fury she leapt towards the broken window and seized a piece of the view of another world and locked herself in the big white room. Piercing her skin she began her art, tiny droplets of liquid oozed from the new openings, the glass danced up and down her arms, across the floor creating a flowing sequence, a beautiful painting. Admiring the purple and the black in the dim light of the bathroom Bambii shielded her face away from the diminished light. This purple and black was not a flower. Nor a necklace. Nor a butterfly. It was the “gift” he gave her when she didn’t obey. It was his breath saturated with the smell of beer as he threw her against the wall. It was his curled up fist as he hit her across the face. Her fingertips traced the outline of her face in the mirror, she had a drowned a healthy adolescent and looked upon a straggled and bony scaffolding, her eyes fell to her bloated tummy, its warmth and satisfaction. The stepped up to her podium, 45. Too fat and in a relapse, Ana met Mia and they were combined over a shared interest of watching her fade. When hip bones met the surface and lips met the edge of the toilet seat and all the light met the dark and the sourness of vomit filled her cracked lips and it was done. Ana had forced the fingers down her throat, Mia had carried the contents of her stomach and now Bambii had to finish it. Clambering onto the basin, her splintered nails scraped against the porcelain, she wavered and her head spun loose on its stand but she stumbled towards her bedroom.

In a restless slumber she tossed and turned, the sheets engulfed her delicate frame, her legs thrashing, her head nestling into her pillow and her eyelids fluttering. Sleep was a temporary death, a veil of consciousness that could capture you and hold you under. Lined in bad dreams and sleepless nights, the folds in her sheets, the untucked corners, told the stories of her midnight escapades to the place where nothing mattered. Bambii’s blissful slumber was just a momentary lapse of reality and she awoke with a start. Beads of cold sweat trickled down her face and into the webs that protected her eyes. Ana’s tiresome burden still heavy on her shoulders and Mia’s taste lingering in the back of her mouth, she knew that she must not deceive her loyal companions.  She ran. Outside. Away. Towards the floating footpath.

Her feet cold on the gravel which had once passed over her tongue, she tip toed up the curved spine of the bridge. Ana and Mia by her side and the wind blowing in her hair. The birds nestled underneath their wings, the spluttering engines of early risers. The metal felt cold under her pink toes but Bambii continued to overcome every great rise, “You can do it.” Their whispers lost in the wind, their utterings into her ears, the harshness of early morning cold absorbed by her lips. At the peak Bambii felt the hard breaths of cool air rush through the gap between her legs, startled she stumbled back against the rails. “Take a step. Fly Bambii, it’s so beautiful up here.” She was joined by another calming presence, her mother’s gentle persuasion echoing alongside Ana and Mia’s encouragement.  She never understood why they wouldn’t leave her alone, but now, perhaps she did, Ana was no longer part of Bambii and neither was Mia, they defined her, they were Bambii and with her only motive as hatred she stepped up to the railings. Her arms unfolded, she reached to the ends of the earth and she flew. Alone.

The separation between life and death can only be described as unique for every individual but the euphoria of flying became coupled with panic when Bambii realised she was alone and her intentions to lose her companions had been unsuccessful.  Ana and Mia did not even look back and whilst laying in the arms of an angel, Bambii watched from the clouds as the team searched for another lost soul, finding comfort in destruction and fine art in manipulation.


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