25 Mar 2011

The Sugar Raspberry Coated Donut

The following post is a work of fiction, DO NOT ACT ON IT!


I stood in front of the bakery-bar and licked my dry lips. I wished I was one of the girls sitting in there, drinking their teas and biting those sugar glazed donuts. But, I was not one of them and they weren’t one of me. In part I was happy for that, because my willpower was stronger than theirs. I could control what was entering in my stomach... or to be correct, I could control what was not entering in my stomach.

I looked at the different taste of donuts displayed in the window. Something pushed me to enter. I went in and stood at the counter. The waitress whose cheeks betrayed her passion for glazed donuts asked me “How can I help you today?”

I looked at her friendly face and I forced something that looked like a smile back at her. I painfully fumbled some words out: “Ehm, nothing... I am just looking...” I pause to collect my thoughts, then I said “Sorry, I am still thinking about what to get...” getting those words out of my mouth was like catching a star from the sky.

Since my illness began, it has become difficult for me to speak to strangers. I was always self conscious about how I looked. This affected my speech. I thought people saw me as the fat girl in town. I hated my hair, my fat face, my fat thighs... I simply looked awkward in everything I did, all because he said those words to me...

“This one is very delicious...” the waitress brought me back to reality. I looked at her confused.

“What?”

“This donut here, the sugar raspberry coated donut is very delicious. It is our speciality.” She smiled again, but I could tell she was annoyed with me.

“Okay..., I would like two of them.” I was surprised at my own words. I was also very crossed with myself. The voice started to insult me but, instead of giving in, I paid and got out of the bakery.

A cold wind blow on my face, I looked around me to see if I was the only one feeling this chill. I saw people wearing short sleeves. It was May and I was still cold under the Verona sun. My mind went back to the last time I ate my favourite sweets, sugar raspberry coated donut. I couldn’t tell if it was the cold or the excitement to finally eat a donut again that made me feel flashes of cold. I pulled my jumper tightly around my neck. My eyes were watering and I felt light.

I walked past the newsagent, the one near the Arena. I went to sit in the small park. I took my donut out of its wrapping paper. I looked at it, smelled the sugar on it and fought back the saliva in my throat. The dough was so soft. I squeezed the first one and felt a sense of freedom. I closed my eyes and felt like a light bird in the sky. I thought about his words and whispered

“Can you see me now? I don’t even want to eat this delicious donut... this sugar raspberry coated donut that I adore.”

I started to cry, tears like rain on window screen dribbled down my cheeks. I hated him so much. I hated him for causing this illness. I hated him for messing up my mental health. I took the second donut out of the paper wrapping... I was about to bite a piece, but the voice told me something different. I cut it into pieces and threw it in the air, to the pigeons in the park. I felt stronger and stronger, but I also knew that the person who refused to bite a piece of her favourite sugar rasberry coated donut was not me, but ED.
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I repeat, this post is a work of fiction. It was inspired by

lifeofTOI

4 comments:

  1. Very interesting post. Love the insertion of Verona and the inner struggle of the protagonist. It's interesting to me that of the 4 others I've read thus far, every one centers on one form of ED or other. Hmm...

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  2. It is so sad how insidious an eating disorder is. You captured her awareness, sadness and frustration very well.

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  3. This is very well written. I don't know much about ED so this shed some light on the topic for me, particularly the inner torment that comes along with it. thanks for sharing.

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  4. I agree, this is really well written. You captured the character's inner turmoil.

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