Chapter one

I enter my room, throw my shoes at the foot of the bed and literally throw myself on them, I'm destroyed, I haven't been able to sleep much tonight. I went home for the weekend and the trip from Columbia and Philadelphia was quite long, in fact I don't even have time to count to three that I fall into a deep sleep.

"I run, they are too fast, I feel them are approaching, I see a wall in front of me. I'm trapped. I try to climb, but someone pulls me by the sleeve of my jacket dragging me to the ground. I hear the screams in my ears the people around me in that dark alley are barely visible shadows, the silhouette of that boy towering over me, I see his obscene face, his clear eyes glint hungry even on a dark night like this. I punch him as hard as I can hitting him, I see him retreat for a moment with a growl of pain, he wipes the blood from his lip and I try to free myself, but he crushes me again on the cold hard concrete. I scream, wriggle as hard as I can, growl at me to shut up my mouth, I feel a stabbing pain, his filthy hands burn on me like hot coals, I hear my screams, I beg to stop, let me go, his friends all around laugh as they enjoy that hideous scene, I see his feral gaze and I hear him laughing showing off the bloody canine broken by my fist, while he abuses me before leaving me like this, paralyzed and half undressed in a dark alley immersed in a pool of blood and tears."

The nightmares are back. Memories never faded come back to my mind and I wake up in a sweat, with my heart pounding and beating in my ears, gagging try to climb up the esophagus, push them back, I promised myself that 'I would have done, not this time. I take deep breaths trudging to the bathroom in need of a cold shower to erase the oppressive feeling of her hands on me. I let the clothes and underwear fall to the floor before entering the shower by adjusting the jet of water, I let it slide over me, imagining that it also takes my torments with it down the drain. Ten minutes later I hear my mother from downstairs saying dinner is ready. Here we go again, I take a deep breath and count on the fingers of one hand the days in which until today I have been able to eat without putting anything back, then I put a fake smile on my face and go down

"Honey, I made you lasagna, it was once your favorite dish"

My mother exclaims with enthusiasm, but I know well that behind that facade lies the fear and anguish for a daughter who is no longer hers.

"T-thank you mom, they will certainly be delicious"

I answer forcing myself to smile. My brother comes out of his room wearing sweatpants and a red t-shirt, his pajamas

"Didn't you go to school today?"

I ask not being able to understand why you wear pajamas at eight in the evening, he's not the movie type and fleece blanket, he's more of a party and after party type

"No, last night at Trent's party we bet on who could handle the alcohol the most and ... Well I won, but the hangover wasn't very pleasant"

He chuckles scratching the arch of his straight nose

"Kyle I already told you to stop this kind of betting, they are dangerous, what if one day they start betting on something worse?"

My mother scolds him, he passes her by giving her a kiss on the forehead as if to reassure her

"Mom you know well I know what I'm doing, I would never do anything too dangerous"

He reminds her by pulling a piece of cheese bread out from under her nose.

Mom doesn't answer, we both know how true Kyle's words are, he's always cared for us since my dad left us, he left with another woman, he left my mom in a difficult time of ours life. What had destroyed me had recently happened, I had started to reject my body, I felt it foreign, I felt those sensations on my skin and I hated myself, I hated myself for letting myself do this, I wanted to punish myself, I wanted a new body, a that it wasn't mine and just when we needed it most he, my father, left forgetting he had a family.

Since that day I have not heard from him, he disappeared from my life and Kyle took care of our family, or what was left of them, studying during the day and working at night, then I was only sixteen.

A year later I too started looking for a job to help with expenses despite Kyle's protests, who claimed he could look after us very well and that I didn't need to work too. But the truth was another, I knew it well, he, like my mother, were afraid that I might do some madness.

After about six months of probation, however, they agreed to let me work and so I was a waitress in a small cafeteria on the corner on main street, I divided myself between the school during the day and the cafeteria in the evening, a quiet place usually frequented by bookworms and kind elderly couples, a blast in practice. But that was fine with me, I don't like crowded venues and I hate being the center of attention, so as far as I'm concerned this place was perfect.

"Belle, the dish is cold"

I jump from my thoughts, I didn't even realize I sat at the table.

I take my fork and put on a piece of lasagna, look at it and try not to think about anything I bring it to my mouth, chew and swallow. One. I repeat the same operation four times pretending not to have noticed the furtive glances my family members give me.

I am proud of myself, I am chewing the fifth bite and everything is fine, but then like a flash I become aware of what I am doing and it all happens in an instant.

The fork slips from my hand to fall noisily into the plate, I stare at it, stare at my greatest enemy in that ceramic plate. Here it is, here is the tremor in the hands, the head is spinning, the sight is clouded and the stomach twists in an inextricable knot. I get up from the table throwing the chair on the ground and I throw myself up the stairs, I feel my breath fail, the beating of my heart is the only thing I can hear at the moment. I slam the bathroom door behind me, I do not know how to reach the toilet and it is stronger than me, I cling to the tablet as if it were my last grip in the world, I stick two fingers in my throat and like every time I reject that little that I have been able to ingest, the taste of bile is strong in the throat, it burns and causes other retching.

After a few minutes the gagging finally stops and I find the strength to get up on slender legs and rinse my mouth, wet my wrists with my hands still trembling.

I don't look in the mirror, I haven't done it for five months now, I don't like what I see, that person reflected in the mirror isn't me, but maybe, maybe I don't even know who I really am, the problem is, probably, I don't I don't even remember it anymore.

I lean my back against the wall and let myself slip against it with the tears running down my face and the only sound of broken sobs that never leaves me.

I hear my brother yelling at my mom, they are arguing and I know the problem is me, I hear him yelling at her that we can't continue like this, that I need help, she is crying and her voice breaks as she says she doesn't know what anymore to do, that we have changed more than eight psychologists and nutritionists, and that my life is slipping from her hands.

I hate having to be their pain, and I really wish I could change things, but the fact is I can't, I can't stop, my body even thinks before my brain tells what to do.