Denial

She kept grabbing pieces of fat and slicing it off, the sharpened kitchen knife making each slice quick and fast. As each lump of meat fell to the carpet, she smiled wider and wider. She looked at the lumps of meat littered at her feet and decided that it wasn’t enough.

This time she grabbed a section of meat from her thigh. She always hated how it would jiggle when she’d walk. She pulled the meat tightly and sliced through it, her smile only widening. She looked at her other thigh and decided she had to even things out so she did the same to the other side. 

She looked at herself in the mirror once more, letting the knife slip from her bloodied hands. She was finally thin and beautiful. The ugly parts of her, the fat, taken and disposed of. She touched what was left of her hips, her stomach, and her thighs. Her fingers grazed against the torn skin and meat, feeling not the bloody mess they were, but the smooth silkiness of skin. 

She was finally beautiful. 

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