View Full Version : A deadly path

September 2nd, 2014, 07:11 PM
This is a short story I wrote about a year ago, its based off of my journey with bulimia. Critique it honestly

I sit alone in my room, the door is closed and locked. A grocery bag is sitting on my bed, waiting to be opened, I had just gotten back from the store. I open my closet and pull out a couple bottles of water, I keep them stocked in there for when I need them. I sit on my bed and empty my grocery bag in anticipation, Ive been waiting all day for this. My mouth waters as I take the sweets out and set them in front of me; ice cream, cookie dough, frosting, chocolate milk; so fattening but yet so good, and besides, I will be getting rid of most if not all of it. I gulp down a bottle of water and then dig in. I am in pure ecstasy as I eat, my emotional and physical emptiness is being temporarily filled once again. In what seems like a matter of seconds I look down to see half my food gone, although according to the clock, Ive been in here for almost 20 minutes. My joy quickly turns to dread as I remind myself of what has to happen next. My stomache feels like it could burst but I manage a few more bites, and when Im done I toss the leftovers in the empty shopping bag. I force myself to drink one more bottle of water and then throw on my black hoodie. I hurry into the kitchen, slipping a few napkins into my pocket as I make my way to the door. "I'm going up to Memere's for a little while!", I shout to my dad, who is sitting on the couch watching tv, as usual. "Be back within an hour." he replies curtly. Normally I wouldnt be allowed to go out this late, but my grandmother lives in the same appartment complex as us, only a couple buildings away. I walk out the door, through the hallway, and exit the building. Even though its only 7:00pm its pitch-black, and not to mention freezing. I shiver and sprint across the parking lot and to a small bridge. Before my grandmother moved to a different building I would come up this way all the time, now I just go this way when I need privacy. I cross the bridge and run across a small field, panting and totally exhausted. I make my way through some weeds and get to the end of a fence. I turn the corner and try my best to dodge a dead thorn bush, but get my sleeve caught, as usual. Its almost like mother nature's way of holding me back from what I come here to do. I untangle myself and go down a little ways, stumbling as I reach my spot. After visiting here for a couple months now it is littered with food-stained napkins that I can barely make out in the dark. My only sources of light come from the moon and the appartment on the other side of the fence. I look up at the stars, once a place I looked to for guidance, now just a pretty site. "How did I get here?", I wonder to myself, as I lean on the fence and sigh. "Remember what you came here to do.", I remind myself, quickly snapping out of the daze. I proceed to bend down and slip my cold, numb fingers down my throat....

September 3rd, 2014, 12:55 AM
Hi Seth :)

Firstly, sorry to hear that this is based from your own personal struggles, and I hope you are feeling better now. I think the piece was personal and came from the heart and you can tell that by the way it is written. I enjoyed reading it - is there more? I understand where you are coming from as well having struggled with bulimia myself in the past.


Misty Mirrors
September 7th, 2014, 10:38 PM
Hello Seth.
I am not a doctor.
I think you are sad/depressed.
I think you should go to your doctor and show him this essay.
He can help you.

September 8th, 2014, 01:41 PM
i really enjoyed this..had a tightness to it that kept me focused on the storyline..

September 12th, 2014, 10:48 AM
The way you wrote this had me anticipating every next move the character makes, it's pretty solid. I like it.
I'm so sorry to hear about your struggle and I really wish you'll get through this.