Head in the toilet, Bliss stuck her fingers deep down her throat. She felt her knuckles touch the back of her throat. She felt herself gag, and up came ice cream, cookies and the rest of her dessert. Throwing her body back, she wiped her mouth off. Her eyes spilled with wet pain. Her throat burned from the acid. Her body shook. Bliss could hear the distant voices through the walls. The room felt dark and small. Pushing her body off the ground, Bliss’s face continued to drip. She caught a glimpse of her boney figure. She grabbed her stomach skin. Fat. She looked at her chest. Flat. She looked into the weeping eyes of the beast. Ugly. She took one finally look at the girl in the mirror. Obese loser. Avoiding eye
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She remembered the rope snapping before it could retrieve her corpse. She remembered how she should have felt lucky, but instead she was enraged that the rope couldn’t take her life. It didn’t work for her. I still don’t want to be here, she thought to herself. The phone rings, with its familiar jingle. She fumbles her way out of the chamber into the kitchen where her phone was. “Hello?” she mumbles into the phone. “Hello? Can I speak to Bliss Aye-Dyne?” “This is. May ask who’s calling?” the voice was painfully familiar. She knew it could only be one of the two people with that sweet but professional tone. “Hi Bliss. This is Selena Washer aga-” just as she thought.
“I’m sorry,” Bliss interrupted, “but I’m busy,” and hung up. She couldn’t stand Selena’s voice. It was too familiar to Rise’s voice.
Bliss replaced her phone with her keys. She slipped into her mud wrenched, run down black Nikes. Her Old Navy jacket that rested in the closet all weekend wrapped her frail body.
Scratched on a yellow post-it she wrote, “Went out. Have dinner without me. Already ate. -B.A.D.”, and left the silent hell hole.
Bliss? It’s not your fault. Come on. That familiar voice rang throughout Bliss’s veins.
Bliss breathed in deeply. “Rise,” slightly angry she whispered, “you’re not here anymore.” she continued at her molasses speed.
Bliss? It’s not your fault. You didn’t do this to me. You know who it was. You