Have I lost so much weight that I can no longer be seen? - I hate this.

My entire future flashes in front of me. Life in the pit of loneliness where my only company is insanity.

I want my weight back, I yell out those words repeatedly in a mental room no one can hear me from - the realm of my thoughts.

Like floating through space with no contact with Earth, darkness extended far beyond the eye's view, a hopeless void devouring every cry for help. A vacuum.

When my family leaves with no sign of my presence, a nurse wearing a yellow smiley-face mask hovers over me for a good five seconds then stuffs a pill no bigger than a tooth in my mouth. You can see me.

The nurse leaves immediately after.

The next few days are spent in the arms of sleep, however, I'm awakened by chattering. I open my eyelids, pleased by the sight of Joe and Anise. When I lift my hand out to them I'm shocked by the effort I need to put in to keep my hand up. My sweet joy returns at the realisation, to confirm I lift my other arm and try sitting up.

"You're awake." Anise's eyes brighten.

"You can move." Joe's sobbing weakens her voice.

I practice moving each joint, rejoicing at the sound of my voice, "I can move." There's a tremble in my voice and my throat is like sandpaper.

They wrap me in their arms, refusing to let go even at the presence of the doctor, I find the comfort I longed for in their embrace.

I remain in the Doctor's care for a couple more days, gradually the thickness in my body increases, - I don't care anymore. To be a walrus is not as frightening as living as an abandoned shell buried under layers of sand, exiled from light.

When I'm able to walk I'm allowed to return home with my parents. The room I've missed, the food I've avoided, the people I ran from; I've missed it. I sit at the back with my sister, peering through the bus window at the various molds of bodies walking on the street, I then glare at my twin in the reflection of the glass.

The journey home will be a few hours, the sight of sand makes me tremble, the taste of salt tightens my chest - I never want to return.

A man sits next to me, his child on his lap. I lift myself and step away from my seat to stand by my sister.

"Thank you." He says softly.

The bus rocks and sways, I hold my balance steady, and block my fears. Every minute weighs on my legs, but I prefer that feeling.

The beach scenery has been replaced by towering buildings, cars rumbling, and endless traffic filled with impatient beeping. My decision to stand is out of consideration of those who require a seat most, but the sweat tickling my temples as it rolls down and the pounding in my limbs are begging me to take a sit down.

I move my legs to walk to the nearest available seat, as soon as I lift a foot I feel the weight like the force of Jupiter's gravity pressing down on me. As if the weight will tear down my flesh and disjoin my bones. - I can't move.

The memories of what happened previously eat away at my composure, "Muuuum!!!!" I disregard any passenger on the bus and ignore whatever embarrassment I might face. My desperate screams cause panic around me.

"Honey, what's wrong? What happened?" My mum's voice quivers out of concern. Uncontrolled tears accompanied by stress from my previous episode redden her eyes.

I tumble like a dumbbell, rolling with the motion of the bus in tears.

"Stop the bus!" My dad yells and is aided by other passengers who send the message to the driver.

My motion ends with the bus stopping.

"What's wrong?" Dad questions, more worried than I've ever seen him.

"I can't move." The words are harder to say as my lips start feeling heavier. The weight of my body drags me to the core of the earth.

When the ambulance arrives they try to take my out of the bus through the door, but you can't push a basketball through a keyhole, there's no point even trying, "I won't fit. No!! I won't fit!!" I advise, again and again, fighting against the pressure on my lips, screaming out only to be ignored.

"Honey calm down, please." The sight of me is bringing her more misery, she doesn't sound the same, her sweet soothing voice is now weak and uneven.

My sister stands by the side speechless, tearing up then looking away when it becomes overbearing.

The traffic is controlled, all cars put to a halt for the ambulance.

That stupid website tricked me.