Heroin Chic

The girl ran her fingertips down her reflection, blurring the image like her mind had. The glass was frozen, it was the ice you put on a fracture to prevent the swelling and pain, to prevent this youth from hurting. She lost herself in this image; a ghostly skeleton, a product of perfection. But in her head the flesh seemed thicker.

Since her obsession everyday had become a strict routine performed in perfect order to manipulate her already petite frame. She wanted beauty, she wanted thin; she wanted heroin chic.

The alarm clock rang, Astrid had yet another sleepless night. Sometimes she did not want to ever leave the comfort of her bed, sometimes life seemed easier to hide. She began moving, functioning like a machine; powering up the cog wheels in her body without enough oil to run smoothly; she was a friction of metal clashing with metal.

Astrid knows her days have been poisoned with her sick desires, her days are long and consisted of the same process; one cup of coffee, one hour run, one bottle of water, one hour of fitness, one bottle of water, shower, one cup of coffee, leave the apartment, university/work, study in university library, go home, one stick of celery, one apple, one glass of water, one hour run, one bottle of water, shower, watch television, pass out in front of television, wake up, wander to bed, restless sleep and stomach crying.

This particular day was one Astrid dreaded, never did she want to confront this day; it was grocery shopping day and this process was done in monthly bulks. Having too look at so many food items, the temptations, it made her want to stick her fingers down her throat and hurl at even the thought.

The supermarket was crawling with disease, smelling of strong disinfectant like a hospital does which was a very familiar smell to Astrid. The tiles were pure white and so were the walls, to Astrid it felt like a padded cell and the shelves and shelves of food was a straightjacket strangling her breakable torso. She felt trapped, breaking free of the desires became torture. In an asylum no one obtains sanity, it was lost the day their foot hit the pavement of the white floors. This is her asylum.

Astrid paced down each isle with a look of terror on her face, her heart racing and on the verge of an anxiety attack. Many of the surrounding customers would look on at her state, noting that her expression was not one which held complete mentality and they would recede from her presence. She appeared sick and dangerous, although the only one she was disturbing was herself.

Straying down each aisle was the gaunt beauty and never did the food items stop staring. They would call too, call out to her, ‘Hey, Astrid, come here. Take me home, please? It’ll be okay, I won’t hurt you. I just want to be your friend, Astrid?’. They would seduce her with their tales, but she knew now that it was a trick, it was always a decoy and she would not succumb to their lies. Not anymore.

Whilst Astrid was twitching with nerves in queue, holding a pitied basket full of fruit, coffee and sugarless items a man interrupted her frenzied state. The man was tall, wearing blue jeans, an ironed dress shirt and leather shoes. He looked at her with his hesitant brown eyes, and his messy chocolate brown hair flung across his left eye and was in perfect contrast to his olive skin.

“Astrid?” he said in a deep husky voice.
“Uh, oh hi, Rhys. Wow, um.” she murmured nervously. To her horror this now successful man was her high school crush, the one who would never lay eyes on her back in the thicker days of her life, when she was ugly.
“How are you? You are looking really good,” he said smoothly.
“I’m, yeah…very uh, I’m good. Good!” Astrid stuttered. “And you?”.
“I’m great, thank you. Things are great. Doing what I love, earning a lot. Couldn’t be better. Such a shock seeing you, and particularly like this. Amazing.” He swayed, and Astrid shyly blushed. “How about dinner? We can get to know each other, as I never really knew you in high school, eh?”
“Oh, wow. Just, uh. Actually, I’d love to, but um…oh, I have a meeting, you know. Busy busy…” she panicked to find excuses.
“Next!” the store clerk screamed.

The two said there quick goodbyes and Astrid left behind the shop of temptation. She rushed home to her routine in an effort to put her conversation with Rhys to the back of her mind, the one thing which was out of her regular daily expectations.

As soon as her head hit the soft pillow on her large and empty double bed, her mind was set off like a time bomb. Whilst in high school, being overweight and constantly eating controlled her life. It stopped her from having romance, from experiencing young love. And now, at her chance with someone she had dreamt about, food still controlled the lack of romance. She morphed from one extreme to the other, but nothing has changed. The number that came up on the scales did not mean a thing to Astrid late at night; she was still lonely.

-2008