Prolouge

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Prologue

It all started in the fall of my fifteenth year, my brother had just shipped out for his first tour in the Marines and my parents were finally seeing some success with their solar company. They had just been granted a pattent on their solar energy system and were now marketing to bigger and bigger companies. everyone was so happy and successful, except me. I was the weird, shy girl who nobody ever paid attention to. Sure, I got good grades and had a few friends at school but I still had this cripling hollow feeling inside. I started to feel very insecure and compared myself to others constantly. Days and weeks turned into months of wondering why I was even bothering to try when I was just a failure and would never measure up to my peers, my parents, or my brother. I remember the first night my Eating Disorder truly came to life and the three months that then followed can only be described as absolute hell. 

"Savanah!" I heard my dad call. 

"Yes dad?" I said 

"Come here please" he replied. 

I hurried down the stairs and into our living room where my dad was sitting on the couch with a letter in his hand. 

"This came in the mail today. I think it's from your school." 

Sure enough it was. It was a letter telling my parents that I was missing three assignments in sophomore english and that my teacher thought I was "spaced out and distracted" in her class.

"You're a smart kid, Savanah. Your mother and I don't need to be getting letters like this. Anyways, dinner's almost ready, I just gotta check the steaks and make sure they're up to temperature." 

My dad got up and walked into the kitchen to check the steaks and as I walked back up to my room to grab my phone, I felt the sinking empty feeling again, but this time it was different. This time, it had subtle hints of rage and guilt to it. I was mad at myself and suddenly I had a thought that I should punish myself. I didn't deserve to eat tonight. My mom put the food on the table and my parents fixed their plates first. I put a very small piece of steak and a little bit of the mixed veggies onto my plate. I stared at it for a couple of minutes before mashing it up into little tiny pieces and and pushing it arround. It was in that moment I decided that if i wasn't going to be the prettiest or the smartest or the most hard working, I was going to be the thinnest. This wasn't going to be easy. I then excused myself from the table and scraped my plate off into the trash, even though I was starving. I went back upstairs to my room and changed into my yoga pants and a T-shirt. I looked in the mirror. Something had to change. Drastically. Disgusted, I went into the hallway bathroom and got on the scale. It read 120 pounds exactly and I felt anger and rage grow inside me. I went back to my room and laid under my covers with my phone. I opened Safari and typed into the search bar "ways to lose weight" and "how to not eat" I saw the pictures of the girls on the websites and I was shocked. They were all so perfect and skinny, something I would never be. Disgusted even more with myself, I locked my phone and set it under my pillow and cried myself to sleep. 

A few weeks later, my hard work had paid off. I was down to 95 pounds. I couldn't remember the last time I had been this happy. I had overheard my parents talking about taking me to a doctor but didn't think much of it. Little did I know they had been onto me the entire time. 

On tuesday afternoon, I got off the school bus and walked to my house like always, but this time it was different. I saw my mom's blue Honda Pilot in the driveway and the anxiety kicked in. Why wasn't she at work? Was she going to tell me that tyler woul'd be coming home? When a member of your family is in the millitary, you always assume the worst. I went to unlock the door but it was already unlocked. I went inside and my mom came down the stairs. 

"Oh good, your'e home." she said. "Go put your backpack upstairs and get ready to go, you have a doctor's appointment at 4." 

I had completely forgotten, but didn't give it much thought, If anything they would be proud of me for losing weight and getting healthy, right? the appiontment went well and I thought we were almost done when my doctor said what I never thought I would hear. 

"Savanah seems to be healthy but the fact that she is down to 89 pounds and 5'4 is a bit concerning, esspecially with what she has been saying about losing weight." 

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. How could my getting healthy be concerning? I was then asked to leave the room so the doctor could speak to my parents alone. The car ride home was unusually quiet and over the next few weeks, my mom became overly obsessed with my eating. So much to the point that we would fight constantly. It was right about this time when I had to push back ten times harder anytime anyone would try to stop me from getting thin. I had read online about some people who made themselves throw up and thought that if I had to eat to keep my mom off my back, this could help me stay skinny. It was a cold december afternoon and I had the entire house to myself, so I thought that now would be a good time if there was one to do this. I stuck my fingers down and gagged for a little and my efforts proved to be fruitless. Eventually, after about fifteen or twenty minutes some acidic-tasting fluid came up and so did what resembled the granola bar my mom made me eat this morning. I felt relief rush over me as I wiped the sweat from my brow and the tear fro my left cheek. 

The next week, I did that almost every day, and once school had gotten out for winter break, I did it multiple times a day while I was home alone. Three days before Christmas Eve, my parents sat me down and told me that because my brother wouldnt be able to come home for Christmas,and we could now afford it, we would spend it in New York City and fly back on the 4th of January. I had never flown before and never been outside of California. My mom was excited as well, spending Christmas and new years in New York City had always been a dream of hers. The day of our flight, my parents insisted I pack a duffel and a suitcase full of warm clothes even though we were only staying a little over a week. My parents also had me open my Christmas presents on the 23rd before we packed up and left for the airport. I didn't give it much thought though.  When we go to New York, everything was different. It was like I had left all my problems at the airport when I went through security. My parents had the same attitude. My starving and purging got left in Sacremento in their eyes as well. We went out to dinner at a fancy pizza place, and when I messed with my food and only ate half of it, not a single word was even mentioned to me. Although my eating disorder was very much still with me, my parents didn't mention it whatsoever. We were just a normal family from California on vacation. I had a blast in New York, and I guess you could say that ignorance is bliss. We saw a Broadway play, went skating, and saw the big tree all lit up in Central Park. We also got to see the ball drop in Time Square, which was really, really cool. I was so busy having fun that I would have never in a million years suspected what would go down in our hotel room the night before we were supposed to fly back. I do not think I will ever forget this as long as I live. 

"Savanah, come talk to us for a seccond." my mom said, just as I was coming out of the bathroom after a really successful purge. I walked over to her and her and my dad who were sitting on one of the beds in our hotel room. 

"I don't know exactly how to tell you this sweetheart, bu-" my dad started to say.

"Is Tyler dead?" I exclaimed. My heart raced. I knew something was up. 

"Please listen to me." My dad continued to say. "Your mother and I love you very much and are very concerned about you and your newfound love of losing weight. We took your doctor's advice and brought you with us to New York not just to have a fun family vacation." 

Just then, my mother, who was on the verge of tears, handed me a brochure with a picture of a beautiful log cabin on the front. At first I thought it was some kind of ski resort but as I read the text accross the top, my heart sank and reality set in;

"Stonewood Treatment Center located in Buffalo, New York specializes in Chemical Dependency and Eating Disorders in both adolescents and adults." 

I was in utter shock and disbelief. I felt betrayred and hurt and confused all at the same time. I didn't have a problem, I just wanted to be healthy. I just wanted to work hard for something and have something to be proud of. I felt like I was somehow now a crimnal and this was a 25-to-life prison sentance. 

"You start treatment tomorrow. We will drop you off and help you get situated, and then we will fly back home and you will get the help you need." My mother said. 

Needless to say, I didn't sleep well at all that night. My thoughts raced with every possible situation and scenario that could go wrong at this treatment center tomorrow. I had never even been to sleep away camp, let alone an upscale mental hospital for junkies, anorexics, and crack addicts that I was now sentanced to for god knows how long. Besides feeling betrayed and hurt, I was beyond nervous. 

I guess I eventually fell asleep and the anxious scenarios playing out in my head faded into worried  dreaming at some point because the next thing I remember was opening my eyes to see the sun outside our hotel room window. My mom helped us pack up our suitcases and check out of the hotel. My parents' flight was at 2:30 pm and I was to arrive at the treatment center at 10:00 in the morning. It was about 8:30 now. I zipped my suitcase shut.

"All set?" my mom asked. 

We left the hotel room and went downstairs to the lobby to check out and meet my dad. He had called us a cab that would take us to the treatment center and from there my parents would take another to the airport and fly home. I swallowed a lump in my throat as I walked through the gold framed doors of the hotel and got in the taxi with my parents. The skyscrapers and big city scene soon faded into trees and big acres of land covered in snow. Just then, out my window, I saw that same ski-lodge-looking building from the brochure. My heart sank a little. 

"We're here!" my dad said with a little too much enthusiasim.

My mom paid the cab driver and we got out our suitcases and made our way to the front doors of the facility. 

"Don't worry Savanah, you do what you need to do and you'll be out of here in no time." my mom said reassuringly. 

We opened the doors and inside it looked like what could only be described as what would happen when you cross a hospital with a ski resort. The inside was all stone on the walls and wood on the floors. There was a couch and a flatscreen tv in the small area in the lobby before the stairs, and upstairs you could see where the bedrooms were. The hallways were narrow and were all railled off leading to the stairs in the center and a big chandeliear hung from the ceiling over the open area. It also had that super clean hospital look to it as well, and the smell of anteseptic hung strongly in the air. All I remember thinking is how my parents couldn't possibly afford this. 

"Hello, my name is Miranda Bidwell, and I called about a week ago about checking in my daughter, Savanah for your eating disorder program." my mom told the receptionist.

"Ah, yes, I have your daughter's file right here. If you guys would come over to this office right here, one of our admitting staff will be with you shortly. I can hold your bags up front while we get Savanah checked in." The receptionist said as she led us down a small side hallway into a tiny room with three chairs.

 Just then, a woman in scrubs came in and asked for me. She took my temperature and blood pressure, wrote it down on a tiny little notepad, and took my luggage with her without saying a word to us. A young man came in next and had a manilla folder with my name on it in his hand. He introduced himself as Jonah, the director of admissions, and he began asking my parents many questions. I zoned out into my own anxious thoughts at this point, but I snapped back into reality just as my parents signed the final paper.

"Just one more signature here saying that you give us your consent to treat your daughter and then you are all set to go. " Jonah said. 

My parents signed the last paper and Jonah took all the paperwork, thanked us, told my parents they were good to leave and exited the room. 

"Well, do what you gotta do. We love you. You know what you gotta do." my dad siad as he kissed me on the head.

"We hope this is what you need and you get the most out of it.  I love you." my mom said. 

They both hugged and kissed me a couple more times before leaving me in that little room and going on their way back to California. I waited in that small room for what seemed like an eternity when a different woman in scrubs came in the room. She was tall and had super short blonde hair.

"Savanah?" she asked. 

"Yeah?" I responded. 

"My name is Tracy and I will be doing your admit. I have your luggage with me and if you'll follow me, I'll show you to your room."

She led me to the elevator in the corner accross the hall from the little room I was in and we went upstairs to the U-shaped hallway that overlooked the main lobby. She opened the third door we passed and we went inside. She then put my suitcase and duffel on the bed and started taking everything out. She then told me that my bathroom would be locked at all times and that I must have a staff member supervise me in there, which was much to my supprise. She also told me that my parents had packed a few items that I couldn't have; my razors, my purfume, and a bottle of pink nail polish, all of which had to be kept in a plastic bin with my name on it in the nurse's station. She then left me to put away my clothes in the left side of the dresser, which I now had a key to and would be required to keep locked at all times. I took a quick inventory of my new surroundings, the other bed was obviously occupied and there were some cards on her nightstand allong with a framed picture of a golden retriver. The bed was an unmade mess of the brown and white comforter and sheets and an orange blanket stuck out haphazardly and drooped onto the floor. In her side of the closet, there were nice clothes in ranging styles, some all black and grunge-y motifs, and some more girly ensembles like a pretty white lace tank top and a couple sundresses. There were many pairs of jeans. I almost didn't have enough room to hang up my clothes. Once I finished, I poked my head outside the door and looked arround outside. The hallway made a giant U-shape with the rooms on the left and a stairrail on the right. I looked over the railling to see some young women, most likely in their early twenties, sitting on the couches that were vacant before with books in their hands. I heard laughter errupt as one of the girls fell back on the couch with her book in front of her face and her face turned really red. Just then, The tech who had gone through my luggage came out ofthe room two doors down. 

"Am I allowed outside my room?" I asked

"Of course you are! Unless you are on suicide precautions, you may go wherever you want on the facility grounds without supervision. The only place you are not allowed is the canteen because you are here for an eating disorder, and if you are caught in there, you will have any privalages you have earned revoked. If you go past the fence though, you will be considered to have run away and if you are court ordered to treatment or under eighteen, we then have to call the police. All of these rules are explained in the folder I gave you in your room." She explained. 

With that, I slowly begun to walk arround and look arround. I slowly headed down the stairs to where all the laughing and comotion was. And as I passed them, they all fell suddenly silent and stopped to look at me. I heard whispering. And I could have sworn I heard one girl say 

"She looks like skeleton." 

I walked to the back side of where the couch and tv were and on the other side of the wall, was another hallway where I saw the double doors of a cafeteria at the very end and a room with a circle of chairs in the center at the other end. I saw another small room with couches and a fooseball table. I walked back out past the couches in the lobby where the girls were sitting. I saw that there were windows that looked out on a patio with lawn chairs circleing a fire pit. There were more people out there in jackets, scarves, and beanies, smoking cigarettes out in the cold, all of whom looked to be in their twenties and some in their thirties. I pulled my black cardigan sweater as tight as I could and opened the door as the frigid winter winds hit me like slap in the face. Once again, everyone got quiet. I was just about to go back inside because I was not dressed for the weather, I had on a black cardigan sweater, a red long sleeve shirt with the California flag on it, (It was only appropriate to represent my home state.) leggings and ankle boots. I was freezing amd I had only been out here about thirty secconds. 

"Wait!" someone called 

I turned arround and the entire group was staring at me. 

"You can sit out here if you want." A young man in a Holister hoodie said, gesturing to the empty chair. 

"Oh, um ok." I said. 

"You seem nervous." He said

"I kinda am." I repiled 

"Well don't be." He said, pausing for a moment before putting his cigarette in his left hand and extending his right. "I'm Brian." 

"I'm Savanah." I said. 

"This is Sadie, Tom, Clarissa, Troy, and Mandy." He said as he went arround the circle clockwise, each person waving as he introduced them. 

"So If you don't mind me asking, what brings you to Stonewood, Savanah?" Sadie said. 

"My parents think I have an eating disorder." I said. 

"Oh I see." She said. 

"How old are you?" Tom said. 

"I'm fifteen." I said. 

"Looks like Brian's not the baby here anymore." Sadie said. 

"Hey!" Brian said jokingly.

Just then, a man in scrubs came outside and told us to make our way to the cafeteria and that lunch was soon. I did know in the back of my head that I would be forced to eat here, but with that knowledge and realization came every single trick I knew about hiding food and purging. I nonchelauntly walked into the cafeteria with my aresenal of eating disorder behaivors up my sleeve. I followed everyone else into the cafreteria and into the lunchline. I was just about to grab a plate to fill when I heard my name. Another tech in scrubs told me that the kitchen staff plates my food for me and that I have to have a tech watch me eat. This woman's name was Sam and she told me that I would be required to finish my food. Yeah right, we'll see about that. I pushed and picked and smeared food all over the plate to the point that you couldn't tell I'd only taken about two bites. I also stuck food in the sleeves of my cardigan and dropped bits of meat on the floor. I asked to be excused and she asked me if I was going to eat more or would like to take a liquid suppliment for what I didn't finish. I said no to both and she took my plate. Nothing else was said to me. I did all my tricks and got away with it. Just like at home. 

I went back to my room and slept for about an hour and when I awoke, Clarissa from the patio was in the other bed. 

"I was wondering who my new roomate was going to be." she said. 

"I remember you from the patio" I said. 

"Yeah, my name's Clarissa. I'm 23 and I'm here because I relapsed after I had four years of clean time." 

I sat up in my bed. "Yeah I'm here for an eating disorder I guess." I said, hating having to say that. The words tasted like vinegar as they rolled off my tongue. 

"Well your'e in a good place. The patients here for eating disorders do really well, well except Cheyanne." she said, trailling off.

"Who?" I asked.

"The room that backs up to ours." she said, gesturing to the wall behind our beds. "She's in there by herself, on complete bedrest, hooked up to a machine for everything. She's not allowed out of bed without staff permission and is too weak to walk across her room. Her family won't move her to a medical facility where they could help her more. She's been in here five months. Once a week, Staff puts her in a wheelchair and takes her to the group room for one group. She always says the same thing when they ask how she is feeling; that her body may be decaying but her hope is not, and that she is optimistic. You wanna know what one of the techs said? That one day they're going to be doing rounds and someone is going to go in her room and find her dead. I don't blame them in the least for saying that either. They thought for sure they were going to lose her when she had the flu. She reminds me of my great aunt when she was dying of cancer." 

Clarissa paused for a seccond before looking me dead in the eye. 

"Don't  you ever, ever, ever end up like her." 

"I hope I don't." I said, at a complete loss for words.

later that night after our final group, Clarissa invited me back out to the smoking patio. We talked about being homsick and how homesick I was and she couldn't belive that I had flown all the way from California and that my parents tricked me into coming here. I told her that I want to get better, but not this far away from home. She agreed and said that she too was from out of town and missed her parents, her dog and her boyfriend. She also said that this was her third treatment center since she was seventeen for alcohol and drugs. She only had ten days left in her 28 days and she planned to stay clean and sober once she got out. She had allready been looking at going to sober living, going back to school for her associate's in nursing, and leaving all the drugs and alcohol in the past. She said that she also would be turning 24 soon and wanted this year to be a fresh start. I was so happy for her, and wanted to see her succeed, but I couldn't shake the empty feeling inside. I needed to be home. Soon. 

That night, I suprisingly slept quite well, despite being extremely homesick. I was woken up at six by a tech to be weighed and have my vitals taken. I complied half asleep, went back to bed, and woke back up at seven for breakfast when a tech came in to get us. I mostly stayed in my room and slept on my seccond day and when the therapist there came into my room to ask if I was ok, I broke down into tears and told him how much I wanted to leave. I didn't go to any groups and mostly stayed in my bed for the next three days. I was also informed that if I didn't eat or take something called a suppliment more often that I would be given a feeding tube. Upon hearing this, ironically, I stayed in bed for the rest of the day and cried, missing the rest of my meals. 

Clarissa came into my room later that day. 

"Hey, you look like a hot mess." She said.

"Well, I am." I said. I told her about the whole feeding tube thing, and she was shocked. 

"I've never seen them tube someone because they didn't consume 100% of their food. They can't even do that!" She said. 

"Well, theyr'e going to try to tomorrow." I told her. What she said next really threw me a curveball.

"I would never in a million years tell someone to refuse treatment or to not get better, but what they're doing to you isn't fair. You've been here for five days, and they only tube after 14 days of what they consider to be non-compliance. My last roomate was here for an eating disorder too. I hate to tell you to do this, but you have to run away. They can't do anything to you once you're outside the gates. Either that or they will take you and tube you tomorrow morning and from what I've heard, those things are for life. I will help you tonight if you want to leave. I never want you to give up on your recovery though. You are meant to recover and overcome this disease, maybe just not here. You need to go somewhere more understanding." 

She held out her pinky, because despite being twenty-three years old the pinky swear was still a very valid, sacred vow in her eyes. 

"Promise me that no matter what, you will continue to fight and recover. For the rest of your life." She said. 

I held my pinky as well, interlocking with hers.

"I promise." I said, tears now flowing down my cheeks. She hugged me for a long time and then grabbed a little notebook off the nightstand, ripping out a page and writing something on it before folding it in half and handing it to me. 

"I gave you my number so if you ever need to talk I'm just a call or a text away." She said.

We both went to dinner and I didn't really need to eat, considering I was leaving in a few hours. So I messed with my food and took a couple bites before leaving the cafeteria. We were back in my room about fifteen minutes later where we skipped evening group to plan my escape.

I packed my purse with as much stuff as I could fit and had about three outfits worth of clothing  on when they did the last round of the evening shift. My best chance was to leave my room to go out to the smoking patio right after they checked me off for being in my room. It was about 10:47 and soon the evening staff would be clocking out and going home and the night shift would be replacing them. Rounds would not be done for another half hour at least. I would go out to the smoking patio and leave out the back of the property. There was about 50 feet between the back of the treatment center and the ten-foot-high chainlink fence. I said goodbye to Clarissa, hugged her and thanked her again, and made my way down the stairs and onto the patio. As I set foot off the wooden deck of the patio and into the snow, several thoughts crossed my mind; first, my exit had gone a little too smoothly and I was expecting to be chased by staff at any moment. Seccond, could I really trust Clarissa to not tell on me and make sure my parents got all my stuff? And last, now that ten feet and some trees now seperated me from my long-sought-after freedom, where was I going to go once I was off the treatment center property? I couldn't get transportation all the way back to Saccremento, I had maybe $150 on me. As I reached the fence, I knew my freedom was in reach. I climbed with ease and with one slick solid move, I landed into the snow on the other side catching myself on my hands and knees. 

I was free. 

I wandered aimlessly for the rest of the night. Since Stonewood was in the middle of nowhere, I took the dirt road that I vaugely remember taking to get here until the dirt gave way to asphalt and I had made it to civilization. It was probably about 11:45 now as I roamed the streets of a quiet residential area. I now had a plan. I was going to take buses and trains until I got to Quantico, Virgina, where my brother was stationed. From there, I would beg him to hide me in the barracks on the base until he could take me back to Saccremento to go back to our parents. I debated calling him from a payphone, that is if I could find one in the suburban area of Buffalo, New York, in 2015, when everyone had cell phones, at almost midnight. But despite that, as I walked down a main road, I saw little shops, a Starbucks  or a gas station here and there, and under a beacon of light from a lampost, I saw what I thought was a mirage. There, under the streetlight, was a liquor store, and outside of it, a payphone. I walked over to it and immidiately decided against calling Tyler. If he answered, what was I supposed to tell him? He was not told about my accused eating disorder to begin with, let alone told about me going into treatment. My only option now was to just show up at the base and then my brother would have no other choice than to harbor me until my parents come and get me. I had to find a place to spend the night though, I wandered a little more and then found what looked to be an abandonded matress store. The back of the store had a boarded up window with an opening just big enough for me to fit through, so I went in and set up shop on this big matress in the far back corner where I was least likely to be seen, curled up under my parka on it, and went to sleep.

I awoke to the sun rising and shining its bright rays into my corner. I quickly packed up my purse and zipped up the parka I had used as a blanket arround me. I exited through my crawlspace and walked back to the front of the store and onto the sidewalk. I needed to find the next bus stop I could. I saw one on the other side of the street, so I walked over. Shortly after, a bus arrived and I paid the fare and asked the driver which way I would need to go to get to Quantico. He told me that I would need to stay on this bus untill we made it to the bus station, where I could get off and get on a Greyhound going to Quantico. This was going way too well. When I arrived at the bus station I noncelauntly walked to the window to get my ticket. On my way to the window I bumped into a man. 

"I'm so sorry sir." I blurted out, not realizing who I was talking to.

The man I had bumped into had turned arround and was a police officer and now him and another cop were turned arround looking at me, they whispered something I didn't hear. 

"Where are you headed, young lady?" The taller cop asked. 

"Just to Quantico to see my brother." I stated, matter-of-factly. 

"Where are your parents?" The shorter cop asked. 

"Uh.... I.." I started to stutter, next thing I knew, I was being taken into the back seat of the cruiser with tears and makeup running down my face. They had been looking for me all night, and now they had found me. The cops drove me back to the treatment center where my parents were waiting in the lobby with all of my stuff.  

"To be honest, Savanah, we are beyond dissapointed in you." My dad said. 

My parents thanked the police and led me to a taxi that would take us back to the airport to go home. The taxi ride and the flight back home were excruciatingly quiet, and each minute passed like an hour. When we got home my parents were so disgusted with me that I was sent upstairs for the rest of the night, which I took as an oppertunity to purge the minute I got done unpacking my stuff. I did my deed in the bathroom and then went to my room to look at Instagram and Pinterest pages of girls who had the same bony, emaciated body that I did in my bed for the rest of the night. 

The next day, I was back at school like nothing had even happened. I went to all my classes and the school day flew by. I felt the anticipation grow in my gut as the afternoon announcements came on over the intercom and at long last we were granted freedom with the same closing sentiment from our prinicipal we heard every day. 

"Have a wonderful afternoon and as always, Go Tigers! Students, you are dismissed." 

I hurred to my bus and was the first one on, even though that did nothing to affect the ammount of time I had between now and my afternoon bathroom activites. LIke every morning, my mom would make me eat a granola bar or a muffin, or some other breakfast food before I was allowed to get on the bus to go to school. I felt this morning's protein bar and this afternoon's apple in my stomach just waiting to come lurching back up at my command. I checked my phone. 3:20 pm. Just then, the bus driver closed the doors and in minutes we were out of my school's parking lot and onto the main road that led to Ashebrook Village, where we lived. I got antsier and antsier as we went in the main entrance and started dropping kids off. The next stop  was mine. I gathered up my bookbag and got ready to exit the bus. The bus came to a stop and I stood up and waved at the driver and hopped off onto the sidewalk. I nearly sprinted to my house, unlocked the front door, locking it behind me, dropped my bookbag on the floor, and hurried upstairs where my bathroom awaited me. This was my most anticipated purge yet, and little did I know it was going to be my last. 

I opened my bathroom door and kneeled down at the toliet. I lifted the lid and began sticking my fingers down my throat. That same acidic tasting stuff came up like always, and like previous times, I guessed what each thing was floating in the toliet as it came back up. Being that I ate several hours ago, I knew it was just going to be stomach acid and chunks at this point but I was still happy seeing it all in the toliet. It still was not enough to satisfy me though, I gaged and gaged even more and harder now, trying to make whatever was holding out in my stomach come up with the rest of the purge. Then something happened that I had never experienced before. The room began to sway and it looked all spotty and all of a sudden. I felt lightheaded, dizzy, and weak and then the spottiness got worse and worse.

And then everything went black.