Self-Hate

    Willow sunk lower in her too-big chair, wishing she could melt into the red plastic instead of do what she was about to do. She sat alone at her lunch table, a circle of social quarantine around her. Sighing in defeat, she stood, tray in hand. It was heavy with more food than garbage; a grease soaked paper plate loaded with spaghetti and fried meat balls, a 3 liter soda she had barely made a dent in, a bowl of neon yellow goo that had, before it solidified, been cheese dip for the various fried foods around the tray, most of which Willow had only nibbled on.

    She felt them stare at her, and she didn't need to hear them to know they were whispering behind her back. She continued her march to the garbage can and foolishly locked eyes with a lunch monitor. He shook his head slowly in disappointment, his many chins jiggling individually. She lowered her head in shame as she dropped the reinforced styrofoam tray into the black bin. As she made her way back to her seat, she could hear others giggle.

    Self-consciously, she hugged herself, which only made it worse. Her hands could touch behind her back! How ridiculous. She hated her body, her stomach barely stuck out over her jeans and her thighs didn't always touch. Her parents tried to support her lack of appetite, as she had always been this way, but she knew they were ashamed of her.

    They must have been; she sure was.

    She slipped back into her chair and subtly scanned the room through the strands of hair that had fallen in front of her lowered face. Lara Spencer, the most popular and beautiful girl in school, sat three tables away talking and laughing with her massive friends.

    Her clothes were stretched tightly around her girth, threatening to burst at the slightest movement. You could see part of her protruding stomach between her shirt and pants and the stretch marks that covered its surface. It had been many years since she was able to see her toes, let alone touch them like Willow could. Lara Spencer was nearly a perfect circle, and she made Willow feel hideous.

    Willow cursed herself, and her small stomach, when Lara noticed her and grinned between mouthfuls of the full chicken on her tray, which she was pulling apart with her bare hands. "Look at the twig! What are you staring at, ugly? Why don't you go for a run or something, freak." She turned back to her friends, who were hysterical with laughter, and stuffed a chicken leg into her mouth, only to pull it back out seconds later stripped to the bone.

    Willow lowered her head and sprinted from the cafeteria, desperate to hide her tears. It wasn't fair, why couldn't she gain weight? It wasn't like she hadn't tried, she just couldn't do it. Willow curled up on the floor by her locker and waited for the bell to ring, stifling her sobs.

    Just like almost every other day.