Pulse quickening, palms clammy, she skimmed through the torrent of love and abuse she was previously sent by those feeding her addiction over summer. Her addiction? Attention. The photos though...how could he? Staring in the mirror, she realised she was no longer so keen on the reflection, her bony frame meant nothing now. She saw the glinting metal of the scissors lying on the toilet cistern, inviting, welcoming, dangerous…
***
Glaring at herself in the mirror, she left physically sick at the curvy figure looking back. “Where are your collarbones?” She would scream at her reflection, “Where are your collarbones”… It was one of ‘those’ days. At just 15, Millie had a lot of those days. Strawberry blonde curls fell over her face as she pulled her hair loose. Ginge! She murmured to herself. Starting from the roots she massaged bleach into hair. The blonder, the better. A burning sensation and the stench of ammonia overwhelmed her senses as she opened the window for fresh air. From the corner of her eye, she noticed a group of girls who attended the same school walking past; they were giggling, smiling, and having fun. Heart racing, veins pulsing, a rush of envy swept over her, instantly turning into a green eyed monster. She was the loner, the freak. Slamming the window shut and darting out of sight, Millie unintentionally crashed into the cold, hard wall of her bedroom. Returning to the mirror, she stood sighing, forever lifelessly looking into the reflection, searching for a soul she had not yet found. An alarming tone sounded interrupting Millie’s trance, in that moment, sudden heat escaped her head. Remembering the bleach, she skidded along the landing in a pair of quirky socks she adored and frantically threw her hair under the shower head, pressing any button that her fingers found first. Freezing water blasted over her whilst a sigh of relief escaped as the cool water calmed her overheating scalp. Goodbye ginge, she thought aloud. Returning to her room with a towel wrapped around her head, she rummaged around her school rucksack in attempt to find her phone. Grabbing it out of the bag she stood in a state of confusion for a moment as more messages had been received since the initial alert…
Slut. Fatso. Ginge. She received another text. Dreading the contents, she reluctantly picked up her phone again hoping it was just her parents letting her know they had arrived to the destination safely, they went away for the summer. “Wish I was there” she sighed as she checked the message. “WHORE” flashed back at her. That was it, she was sick of them all. Tip of the iceberg. “Why can’t they just leave me alone?” She stuttered mid-breakdown.
Actually, Millie, you are looking a little on the curvy side, those girls are all thin and flawless; look at yourself. The truth hurts, tubby… nagged a little voice in her head. Millie raced to the bathroom, slipping on the landing once again. This time she grabbed her toothbrush, getting swept up in a moment of haste and hatred, she viscously attacked her throat, screaming between each painful gag. That was the start. It became an obsession... She couldn’t stop... She wouldn't stop. Terrified of waking up suffocating in cellulite, she stopped sleeping too. Spending the rest of her days in a haze, endlessly counting calories, lying to her parents whom were still on holiday, taking pill after pill until she eventually began to see a change. Thank god. Even though it had only been 8 days, if had felt like a life time to Millie.
It was so satisfying watching the skin disappear, months of persistence and determination; her hips defined, razor sharp. Although Millie got dramatically thin, dramatically fast, she loved it. Cake or collarbones she chanted. Always ignoring the side effects, she would rely on pro-anorexia websites for motivation. Disturbing, yet motivational quotes she found online were her continuous ‘thinspiration’. Going to bed hungry is worth waking up skinny. Hunger hurts but starving works. Your stomach isn’t growling; it’s applauding. The one that stuck out the most, every time you say “no thank you,” to food, you say “yes please,” to thin. That little irritating voice in her head would remind her of this each day, somehow, it didn’t seem like this was her own choice anymore… Motivation is what gets you started, but habit is what keeps you going.
Summer break was 3 weeks in and although Millie was feeling better than ever with her appearance, nothing else had really changed. She was still alone and isolated, causing her to ventur further into the depths of the internet; no longer restricting herself to pro anorexia websites and Facebook. One stereotypical summer evening noises outside disturbed her, gingerly peeking out of the window she noticed those girls again, acting just like before. Déjà vu. An all too familiar emotion of hatred and envy possessed her. Feeling undervalued, underappreciated and in need for attention she stumbled upon an X rated chat room, intriguing her.
Talking seductively and ‘naughty’ was new territory for Millie, she took on a sexy, confident, cyber persona that strangers adored, consequently leading her to spend all her time online.
Thriving on flattery, throughout the summer Millie craved attention from strangers which they happily gave to her. Aware that most of the things said to her were over-used clichés, she still felt a thrill from receiving so much flattery. “You’re so sweet, you could put Hershey’s out of business,” Hershey’s has a similar taste to the one that lingers in my mouth after vomiting, she thought to herself. It was all harmless fun, she thought, harmless fun for which she hungered. After a while, it narrowed down to just one man in which she became engrossed, and vice versa. Overexcitement and hormones combined and created quite a range of situations for the pair, she regularly received explicit images from him and then it came to her time to return the favour. She photographed herself both completely and semi nude on the night of her 16th birthday, towards the latter part of August. She then shared filthy photos and a few ‘extra saucy’ ones with the man she had been conversing with all summer, captioning them: “Not jailbait anymore, we’re good to go”. She saw no danger in any of her actions throughout summer, and failed to foresee any future danger with exchanging the photos.
Whispers and utterances welcomed Millie back to school after summer. Although it was a brisk, dull day, her skirt was short and cleavage was visible, and she strutted down the corridors as she had never done before, flaunting a well deserved thigh gap and piercing bones. With a proud, confident expression all over her face, she held her head high and walked past her peers. The girls who once taunted her stood in disbelief, Millie had transformed herself. You’ve done it! Before this they wouldn’t have noticed you if you were a 10 storey building, but now they will see you if you’re just a crack in the paving, congratulated the little voice in her head. As the term progressed Millie was still the buzz of the school, being approached by girls inviting her out with them, boys approaching her asking her to ‘go out’ with them, such unfamiliar settings welcomed her with open arms; shining bright, she excelled. I finally fit in, she thought. With such success in creating a whole new self, thriving social life and transferring her online persona to daily life, she slowly stopped resorting to the internet in attempt to feel wanted, because she was wanted in reality. Mr. Internet wasn’t too keen on the idea of being left behind, he wanted something more than a few nasty pictures in return for his attention. It wasn’t until a short while after she had returned to school; she really got to know her internet ‘friend’, and just what he was capable of.
Whispers and utterances greeted Millie once again as she walked into school. “What the heck is this about?” She thought aloud as she approached her new friends in a state of ignorance and confusion. The girls seemed far too engrossed and amused staring at their mobiles to acknowledge her interrogation. Becoming progressively more irritated, she snatched one of the girls’ phones and studied the contents. Oh shit! She panicked, stood in shock, completely still, fixed upon the image staring right back at her, and unable to comprehend what had happened, unsure of how to handle the situation Millie was distraught. She saw herself and her favourite ‘toys’ presenting themselves to the camera. “How did you get this?” she murmured, but no response from her peers led to a hysterical scream. “WHO SENT YOU THIS?” she hollered in an unstable tone. I don’t even know why I’m asking, there’s only one place this could have came from. Christ, Millie you stupid, stupid girl, she scolded herself.
All day, Mille suffered in silence as ‘friends’ turned their back on her and started throwing names like ‘slut’ and ‘whore’ at her once again, but this time there was proof to back up their vulgar accusations. Later, glaring at the mess the day had made her, she gave herself no choice but revisit the chat room and fish out an unjustified excuse. She dusted off her old account information and accessed the profile she previously used, scrolling down the page and noticing nothing had really changed, until a once recognizable bing sounded. IM. There was a number of messages being received, all from her beloved. All so vicious, vile and vindictive. Shit.
It was difficult to take in; overwhelmed with emotion Millie fell into a dark place, a place she rarely visited… Imagining all the things her peers and family would say, remembering all the things she had done, he had seen, he knew. This was only the start of his wrath… unable to think of a way out, she skidded into the bathroom for a final time.
