Paper Bag
The figure flashed her perfect smile at Anna, who stared at her in silent awe. Her stare was met by deep blue eyes--cold enough to burn right through her. This girl was a walking stick figure, ready to be snapped in half with a trifling amount of pressure. Yet Anna feared her more than anyone else she'd ever seen-this fragile, pale girl. Her ribs were visible through her dress, as were the bones in her legs and arms. Her chest was completely flat, and her hip bones were clearly pronounced, protruding beneath her dress. Bones, bones, bones. Anna shuddered.
"Good morning, Anna," the figure said in an airy voice. She cocked her head ever-so-slightly as she stepped out of the mirror gracefully, her pin-straight blonde hair brushing her bony shoulders lightly. She moved effortlessly towards Anna, and slung her arm over her shoulder. "I'm Lise. Nice to meet you."
-
"Y'know what, Annalise? You're a total bitch."
The words hung in the air, and then slowly floated down. Anna reached her pale hands out clumsily to catch them--strangle them, because they were liars, and needed to shut up--but they slipped through her fingers. She looked up at the one who had released them, his hazel eyes glaring with impatience, and then back down at those words which were cackling and slipping into the cracks of the sidewalk effortlessly.
Wow, he just called you a bitch.
Licking her chapped lips cautiously, she opened her mouth. "I'm not a bitch," she whispered in a voice that was anything but persuasive. She was reminded of him using that phrase before--on other people. People he hated. People he didn't want to hold close and kiss, people whose nightmares only brought him joy, people whose hands were too filthy to fathom holding.
Did you hear that? Bitch. B-I-T-C-H. Bitchbitchbitchbitchbitchbitch. I think if I find the right tune, it'll make a lovely lullaby for us…don't you agree, Anna? Maybe add the "total" part if we need some more syllables…
Shut up.
"Whatever," he spat, catching Anna off guard. She flinched visibly and then stared at her shiny pink heels and the pavement. "I've got better things to do than argue with you. I'm done with this--with you. So long."
He was gone before Anna had the strength to carry her gaze upward-the gaze that was brimming with tears.
"I'm not a bitch," Anna said feebly, brushing the tears away hurriedly-dismissively, because she shouldn't be crying, shouldn't feel like dying, shouldn't hurt at all.
He doesn't love you anymore, you fat little fuck-up.
He still loves me he still loves me he still loves me he still loves me-
Or maybe he never did.
--
Anna stepped out of the shower, dried herself off thoroughly, and glanced quickly at the scale. It was the latest model, sleek and accurate. She stood, naked and shivering, between the shower and the scale. A field rose beneath her feet.
Go on, cowardly bitch. What are you so afraid of? The truth? You think you can ignore how fat you are, just 'cause you don't have a number? That's so stupid. That's so you. Who the fuck told you ignorance is bliss? They're lying. But you believe them 'cause you're a dipshit.
Anna swayed dangerously, sliding down to the cold tile floor. The field dissolved, and she found herself staring at spinning bathroom tiles. There was something so…satisfactory about simply letting herself drift away, letting her body take control.
Get up. Lazy bitch.
Stop calling me that.
Anna took a deep breath and got to her feet, to the scale. She placed a foot on the scale-then the other-and then her whole body-covered with oozing fat, aren't you ashamed of yourself?
The scale took its time taking a reading-most likely because Anna was shaking like a rabbit. It hovered between 88 and 86 erratically. Anna closed her eyes and waited, breathing through her mouth. She peered down at the scale when she heard the unnerving beep.
87.50 lbs.
Fatass.
Anna wished she had the strength to cry.
--
Anna lay restlessly in her bed, trying to drown out her thoughts with whatever music was playing on her safe playlist-because she couldn't listen to dozens of songs now, not anymore, not since…- She let out a resigned sigh, closed her eyes. Her hands found their way under her shirt, to her ribs. She counted them down her right side-one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve. Lise was oddly quiet, perhaps satisfied at the moment. Anna laughed in spite of herself and counted the left side as well, over and over and over again, and soon she couldn't even hear the music. It was like a lullaby-this assuring feeling of bones, how close she was to being just that-a skeleton. The bones were like piano keys, and she played them well.
Bones were white and formidable. She'd seen them before-on the human skeleton model at her elementary school. She remembered staring at it with morbid fascination, counting the bones in the hands and whispering their names-scaphoid, lunate, triquetrum, pisiform…-staring at the cage that would hold a heart, seeing how the knees bent. Anna had thought it was beautiful and strong. Skin bruised so very easily-hers, especially, was decorated with them now-but bones took a lot more to break.
So she kept counting her ribs, occasionally stumbling upon a bruise and wincing, but it was worth it, the glory of…of…something. Of seeing who she really was under all that fat. Because she didn't deserve the padding, didn't deserve the space, because she was a bitch. A total bitch, to be precise. Because…she didn't know. But the bones felt so right, so comforting when everything went to hell. They were the only thing that felt concrete, even if she didn't know why.
Her hands crept down to her hips-narrow and firm. She couldn't pinch an inch if she tried, though she did try, and fail. Lise chirped in delight. She was quite chipper today. Well, Anna wasn't complaining. She ran her fingers across the hip bone, feeling so close to something she couldn't name. What was it? What was she looking for underneath her skin? Proof that she wasn't a…?
She sat up suddenly, her head swimming, and the music blared in her ears.
--
Anna smiled at her shelf of dollies. They stared back at her, unblinking. She reached up and grabbed one, the pale one named Giselle. The doll had long, tousled blonde hair, a small smile with cherry lips, and a flowery, loose dress. Anna held the doll close, closing her eyes and breathing in Giselle's comforting scent.
Hey, at least Gisele doesn't think you're a bitch, right? Too bad she's not real. The only reason she doesn't think so, is 'cause you control her. Well, there's something under your control, right? Good job.
Anna pursed her lips and opened her eyes, stroking Giselle's hair methodically, humming a bit. The hair was smooth against Anna's fingers, and she tried to drown out the voice with her humming.
Trying to ignore me, are you? As if you could. Stop being so afraid of me. I'm your shadow, your reflection. You can't escape me, no matter how fast you run. Though, running might be a good idea right now. You look like a fucking whale. You could definitely use the exercise. Maybe that's why he never loved you. Who could love a whale of a bitch like you, right?
Anna continued to stroke Giselle's hair with trembling fingers, staring at the glass eyes as if she could peer into Giselle's soul and hide there until the voice left her alone. Lise was oddly quiet for a moment, and Anna frowned uneasily, her hands stopping briefly.
Well, I could. And I do. Don't ever forget that. I love you, Anna. Now go run, burn the fat, so you can be happy like I want you to be. Do as I say and you'll be happy, I promise.
Anna always did what she was told.
but you're just REALLY good. 
So Lise is the anorexia talking right? Anyway so yeah it was really amazing, I did get a tiny bit confused in the begining, but that had cleared up by the end. Please keep writing!