Annelise Nauman (15)
Pursuing An Impossible Perfection
Christine took a long drink of water as she turned on her laptop. The same window had been neglected for days while she tried to prepare herself to write the dreaded message. Finally, she began typing.
Dr. Martinez,
I am afraid that my sister Kathleen may have an eating disorder. I don’t know how to help her get better, but I know she’s tired of hating herself. She didn’t even want to wear a swimsuit at the beach in case anyone saw her.
Trying to convey the emotions that she had been forcing down for months, Christine felt a wave of suppressed memories bubbling back up. She recalled their trip to the lake three weeks prior.
“Come on, Christine! Jump in!” Kat called, waist-deep in the clear blue water.
Christine was hesitating by the shore, nervous to feel the prick of the cold on her exposed skin. She cursed herself for letting Kat convince her to buy a bikini. Why had she thought that she could pull it off? “I’ll be right there!” she yelled, running back to their bags. She extracted a long cover-up from her tote and slipped it on. She waded into the lagoon and shrieked as Kat splashed her in the face.
Christine’s fingers stopped writing as she sat, frozen, with one hand moving to feel her stomach. Her palm ran over the familiar ridges and curves, searching for the perfection that Christine was sure they would find eventually. Coming back to the present, she yanked her hand away and stared back at the screen.
Kathleen hasn’t been going to events where she would have to eat, and she barely consumes anything at dinner, she wrote.
Her mind flashed back to the last day of school, the end of her sophomore year of high school. Kat had just graduated and was ready to celebrate her freedom before the rigors of college.
“Christine, didn’t I tell you about the party tonight at Ravi’s house?” Kat asked, pausing in the doorway of their shared room. “Let’s go! You’re not ready yet!”
“I don’t really feel like it tonight,” Christine mumbled. “I’m still tired from finals.”
“You have all summer to be tired, lazybones! Come on, you can leave early.” Kat stopped, realizing her attempts at persuasion weren’t working on her younger sister. “They’ll have pizza and a cake!”
Christine stayed motionless. “I’m just going to stay in tonight.” She wrapped herself deeper into her baggy sweatshirt.
Kat sat down on the bed next to her. “Okay, we can skip this one. Let’s just have some dumplings and watch a movie.”
Christine nodded assent. Fifteen minutes later, when Kat turned her back to Christine to put in the DVD, she snuck some of her dumplings back into the takeout container. Kat reclined next to her and saw her empty plate. “Wow, you really liked those!”
The ding of the microwave startled Christine. She removed her small bowl of chicken soup and blew on it to cool it off. As she gingerly sipped the broth, she resumed the email.
She has been exercising much more than usual and not eating afterwards.
The sentence she had just typed called to her mind the last time she had gone on a run with Kat.
“Whew, let’s slow down here, Christine,” Kat gasped.
Christine stalled her pace a bit, but began running again once Kat had caught her breath. “I can’t slow down, Kat. I have to keep up with all the girls on the track team.” She had felt so out of place at their first practice; the locker room was filled with lithe, lean girls with muscular abs and legs. She had squeezed in her stomach, which she considered far too large to be athletic, and held her breath, trying not to cry.
Kat laughed at Christine’s response before inhaling sharply again. “Keep up with them? You’re already beating them! We should stop now while there’s still time to grab some food.”
Christine shook her head. “You can stop and pick up some dinner if you want, but I have to keep going.” She left Kat standing on the sidewalk as she accelerated even faster, letting the heartbeats pounding in her ears drown out the sound of Kat calling her name.
Her phone buzzed with a text from Kat. Her sister was asking if she wanted to go shopping the next time she was home from school. Christine rubbed her forehead and responded negatively, explaining that she already had too many clothes. Her nails tapped out another line in the email.
She doesn’t want to wear anything that might accentuate her body.
Her head continued to throb as a million memories resurfaced. She saw Kat, at the mall, trying on a prom dress and looking a million times more gorgeous than Christine could ever hope for. She saw the other girls at school, wearing stylish clothes that showed off their slim waists and toned legs. She saw herself, in the mirror, poring over every difference between herself and the people she saw around her. Why can’t you just be like them? She asked herself. Why can’t you just be that thin? Why can’t you just be that pretty?
Christine glanced up from her computer and caught sight of a photo that she and Kat had taken at the boardwalk. Kat looked like she was having the time of her life, while Christine wore a tight, forced smile on her pale face. She remembered that day, when she didn’t eat anything for hours and took that picture just before fainting. Her breath caught in her throat as she scrolled back up to the first line in her message. She hit backspace and revised her plea for help.
Dr. Martinez,
I am afraid that I may have an eating disorder.
Annelise Nauman is a fifteen-year-old sophomore in high school who enjoys writing, science, and math. She is a recipient of a national silver medal from the Scholastic Art and Writing Awards for flash fiction. She was born in New Orleans, Louisiana, but currently lives in Indiana.
Pursuing An Impossible Perfection
Christine took a long drink of water as she turned on her laptop. The same window had been neglected for days while she tried to prepare herself to write the dreaded message. Finally, she began typing.
Dr. Martinez,
I am afraid that my sister Kathleen may have an eating disorder. I don’t know how to help her get better, but I know she’s tired of hating herself. She didn’t even want to wear a swimsuit at the beach in case anyone saw her.
Trying to convey the emotions that she had been forcing down for months, Christine felt a wave of suppressed memories bubbling back up. She recalled their trip to the lake three weeks prior.
“Come on, Christine! Jump in!” Kat called, waist-deep in the clear blue water.
Christine was hesitating by the shore, nervous to feel the prick of the cold on her exposed skin. She cursed herself for letting Kat convince her to buy a bikini. Why had she thought that she could pull it off? “I’ll be right there!” she yelled, running back to their bags. She extracted a long cover-up from her tote and slipped it on. She waded into the lagoon and shrieked as Kat splashed her in the face.
Christine’s fingers stopped writing as she sat, frozen, with one hand moving to feel her stomach. Her palm ran over the familiar ridges and curves, searching for the perfection that Christine was sure they would find eventually. Coming back to the present, she yanked her hand away and stared back at the screen.
Kathleen hasn’t been going to events where she would have to eat, and she barely consumes anything at dinner, she wrote.
Her mind flashed back to the last day of school, the end of her sophomore year of high school. Kat had just graduated and was ready to celebrate her freedom before the rigors of college.
“Christine, didn’t I tell you about the party tonight at Ravi’s house?” Kat asked, pausing in the doorway of their shared room. “Let’s go! You’re not ready yet!”
“I don’t really feel like it tonight,” Christine mumbled. “I’m still tired from finals.”
“You have all summer to be tired, lazybones! Come on, you can leave early.” Kat stopped, realizing her attempts at persuasion weren’t working on her younger sister. “They’ll have pizza and a cake!”
Christine stayed motionless. “I’m just going to stay in tonight.” She wrapped herself deeper into her baggy sweatshirt.
Kat sat down on the bed next to her. “Okay, we can skip this one. Let’s just have some dumplings and watch a movie.”
Christine nodded assent. Fifteen minutes later, when Kat turned her back to Christine to put in the DVD, she snuck some of her dumplings back into the takeout container. Kat reclined next to her and saw her empty plate. “Wow, you really liked those!”
The ding of the microwave startled Christine. She removed her small bowl of chicken soup and blew on it to cool it off. As she gingerly sipped the broth, she resumed the email.
She has been exercising much more than usual and not eating afterwards.
The sentence she had just typed called to her mind the last time she had gone on a run with Kat.
“Whew, let’s slow down here, Christine,” Kat gasped.
Christine stalled her pace a bit, but began running again once Kat had caught her breath. “I can’t slow down, Kat. I have to keep up with all the girls on the track team.” She had felt so out of place at their first practice; the locker room was filled with lithe, lean girls with muscular abs and legs. She had squeezed in her stomach, which she considered far too large to be athletic, and held her breath, trying not to cry.
Kat laughed at Christine’s response before inhaling sharply again. “Keep up with them? You’re already beating them! We should stop now while there’s still time to grab some food.”
Christine shook her head. “You can stop and pick up some dinner if you want, but I have to keep going.” She left Kat standing on the sidewalk as she accelerated even faster, letting the heartbeats pounding in her ears drown out the sound of Kat calling her name.
Her phone buzzed with a text from Kat. Her sister was asking if she wanted to go shopping the next time she was home from school. Christine rubbed her forehead and responded negatively, explaining that she already had too many clothes. Her nails tapped out another line in the email.
She doesn’t want to wear anything that might accentuate her body.
Her head continued to throb as a million memories resurfaced. She saw Kat, at the mall, trying on a prom dress and looking a million times more gorgeous than Christine could ever hope for. She saw the other girls at school, wearing stylish clothes that showed off their slim waists and toned legs. She saw herself, in the mirror, poring over every difference between herself and the people she saw around her. Why can’t you just be like them? She asked herself. Why can’t you just be that thin? Why can’t you just be that pretty?
Christine glanced up from her computer and caught sight of a photo that she and Kat had taken at the boardwalk. Kat looked like she was having the time of her life, while Christine wore a tight, forced smile on her pale face. She remembered that day, when she didn’t eat anything for hours and took that picture just before fainting. Her breath caught in her throat as she scrolled back up to the first line in her message. She hit backspace and revised her plea for help.
Dr. Martinez,
I am afraid that I may have an eating disorder.
Annelise Nauman is a fifteen-year-old sophomore in high school who enjoys writing, science, and math. She is a recipient of a national silver medal from the Scholastic Art and Writing Awards for flash fiction. She was born in New Orleans, Louisiana, but currently lives in Indiana.