72. 69. 64. 61. 57. 54. 49. 42. 38. 33. 31. Nothing. She was normal.

Reading ordinary books, doing ordinary things. She liked to draw, liked to play the piano. She had family. She had friends. She lived. She had an enemy. The rosiness of her youthful, rounded cheeks became the protruding cheekbones of a sallow, lifeless face. In. Out. Her arms became a sign of last nights dinner of steak and vegetables. In. Out. In. Out The thighs, which filled out her old denim shorts, became slender. Became thin. Became thinner. Became skinny. In. Out. In. Out. In. Out. Not fat, not thin, her stomach symbolized her enjoyment of food- in moderation of course. This became less. And less. And less. In. Out. In. Out. In. Out. In. Out. We saw her with long, thick-brown coloured hair. Expressive, brown eyes showed her emotions. The soft curve of her shoulder, followed throughout the rest of her body. Full, healthy, happy. Her mirror showed her dull hair and boring-lifeless brown eyes. Her arms were too fat. Her thighs were too fat. Her stomach was far too big for her shorts and that bit of skin that hung over the top was repulsive. Repugnant. Disgusting. Revolting. Hideous. Ugly. Fat. Chubby. Obese. In. Out. In. Out. In. Out. In. Out. In. Out

She was less 72. 69. 64. 61. 57. 54. 49. 42. 38. 33. 31. Nothing.