Third Place: Lillian Lawlor, 10th, Madrid Jr./Sr. High School, IA, (Non-fiction) "I Fear I am Fading Fast" You grow to love the feeling.
The heartbeat racing, feel like you’re falling, feel like fainting. Feel like dying.
“I fear I’m fading fast”
You know you need the help. You haven’t eaten in three days, and the pounds are starting to melt off like butter in a hot pan.
You take a walk to a friend’s house and blackout. You make it there eventually, but at what cost?
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It starts out as skipping a meal. Maybe two, if you’re feeling risky. You feel horribly hungry, but at some point, the pain subsides and becomes a wave of low, rolling nausea. You occupy your time cleaning or walking, or anything. Anything to ignore the pit in your stomach. You look in the mirror and hate what you see. The perfect motivation. You fixate on a flat stomach. At some point, through the countless blackouts, trying not to faint while you walk down the stairs, and overwhelming nausea, you get there. Effortlessly flat. You hate to be sick, but love how you look. So you grow to love the feeling. The heartbeat racing, feel like falling, feel like fainting.
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