Finally, an outlet for her nervous energy. All day she has been tapping and twitching, shaking and shivering.
Now she strides down the road, counting the calories, braving the pain.
She draws her hood close around her thin face, then thrusts her skeletal hands deep into the pockets of her oversized coat. Her fists are clenched tight, holding her lie.
The early morning sun has given way to a cold, grey sky. Snow is coming. The air is ice-cold, whipping around her frail body.
Head bowed, eyes down, she strides purposefully.
In one swift move it is done. Pockets emptied. Today’s food, nestling silently in an anonymous roadside bin. She promised she’d eaten. She lied.
Her mum cries when she sees how fragile her daughter has become. So painfully thin. A mind ravaged, a body broken. There is screaming in her head. Don’t eat. Don’t eat. Don’t eat.
The biting cold burns her skin. The secret guilt burns her soul.
Back home, to continue her lies.