Sunday, October 10, 2021

Story Write Compilations Volume 2 Story 30

 Me and Myself

 

Authors Note: This is a short tale on bulimia. It's a re-write minus the profanities and erotic details.

 

Contests rules:

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I run and jump every day for five miles and then an hour on the exercise bike. It's my routine and the best time to do it is from nine at night to midnight. In the morning at six, I am at the pool and I would do six laps before I come back for my aerobics session. I do it all alone as I can't stand company with me. I carry a Taser with me on my runs if you think I am not being careful. There were one or two such incidents but they won't try again.

 

Am I fat? Pardon me, the correct term is obese. No, I am not. I am slim and I looked good in my running suit. I think I have reduced the fats content in my body to almost nil but I am not giving up till it's all gone. 

 

I am back now at my apartment. I went into my dark apartment. It is no necessity to turn on the light as I know my way around. I walked to the kitchen and raid the fridge. I am famished from my run and I needed my nutrients. There is the cheese block, the cold meat, and the milkshakes. And of course my favorite pecan nut ice cream. But I like the strawberry yogurt more topped with fruits on the top. 

 

I sat it down at the table. I reached for the remote and turned on the box. It's probably other crappy re-runs, and every episode has been seen thrice. I switched to the lifestyle and it showed the baby series. That's refreshing as it is a new one on taking care of babies. I see them bubbly bundles being taken care of by their mothers and their adorable smiles which can captivate an audience. I wondered if my baby would like that; burping and giggling at my touch. That would be refreshing and above all complete for a woman like me. But I have no baby and is there a need to do the completion. I have is myself and only myself. Sure there have been moments I wished I was a mother but that is over now. It's not the baby I was concerned about, it's my body structure. I can't be seen putting those weights and forsaking my diet. I would be laughed at and made a mock at every event. Here comes the fatso..... And she walks with a fat drunken ass. No, more of those sarcastic words; no more of those fingers pocking into my body looking for layers of fats. I am me now, and I darned with those layers.

 

Time for my shower. I dragged myself over to the room and into my shower. I have strewn off my running suit and stood naked there under the shower. It's refreshing at this late hour to be standing under the cold torrent water. It brings out the heat in your body and closed the pores off. My shower is long as I washed every part of my body of the odor and dirt. Not a layer out of place and nothing flabby or sagging. All are taut and in place with their correct cavities. I toweled myself and step into my flannel gown. I know I may look like Twiggy but she was my idol with her launching of the mini-skirts then. I feel sexy wearing it and not look like Dumbo in a tight skirt, The fabric rubbed into my skin and it feels nice. I wondered what it's like when you rubbed the baby with a soft towel. The series showed them giggling and the sounds they make are so cute, But none of that for now. I got a life to live.

 

Oh, no. I must get rid of it. I ran to the sink in the bathroom and I pushed my finger into my throat. It must come out. It has to or it will stick to my body. The ice cream and the pink fruits; all of it I ate is coming out. It's all out and I am glad. I slide down to the floor and sat there. Mum used to say take out the trash if it's not needed. I listened and I obliged. But the child was no trash. It's my effort with him and he would have the love that the child was created. It's our love gift and he did know about it then. 

 

I lost our child and also him. For him, I felt no loss; he is a bastard trying to love me but trying to make me put on weight. So what is wrong with being thin; it is the real me. But never were we to expect the child. I felt remorse for holding the child in my body. It took me days to crawl to the bathroom and I was sick with it. It never let me rest and I felt awful. He keeps on encouraging me to hold up and pump with those nutrients. In the end, I gave up on seeing my body changed. It's not me anymore but the baby. 

 

I was deceived by him for his lust and his words that I will be complete with the baby. I lashed out at him and we went apart the day I discharged my burden. I am back to myself but every time I walked the streets or see the picture of a young mother and her baby, I felt remorse. It could have been me doing the same as them. But when I see the mothers, they are no different from the others. All back to their previous looks and smiling. Maybe I was wrong and I begged for forgiveness from my baby.

 

But that is the past and neither prayer would I bring it back. It's been years now and despite all the efforts, I am alone now. Maybe I am better off with this than to risk another second chance on another baby. I am so sorry but I cherish my body more than anything else. I am me and nothing would make me change. I am so sorry, darling. You would be better off with a normal mother than me.  

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