Cancer

I ran to my room, shutting the door behind me as I sank to the ground, feeling the tears begin to flow down my cheeks. She's right. I'm useless. It's all my fault. All I do is bring sadness to everyone. Casper's death. My mother's disappointment. All my fault.

I slowly stood up, stumbling over to the bathroom. Quickly shutting this door as well, I pulled out what I had hidden earlier, something no one had noticed: my razor. I let it do its job, slicing the pale flesh of my arms. Each cut felt like relieving another pain. One for Casper. One for my mom. One for the kids who always teased me at school. Would they still tease me, kick me, jeer at me, if they saw me like this? Would they still call me a depressed loser, or an idiot? Ugly? Stupid? Weird?

I continued like this, until I had no more energy to do anymore. Finally, I stared down at my bloody arms, the pale skin criss-crossed with ugly red scars. Each scar that showed another flaw. I stared at all the marks with disgust. I was a mistake. A worthless, terrible mistake.

I picked up the razor once more, watching as scarlet droplets of blood dripped from the handle. It would oddly satisfying, watching something that belonged inside of you, outside.

I rubbed the handle of the razor, feeling the smooth edges slick with blood. My blood, that was starting to stick to my hands a bit. I sighed, getting up. I grabbed a towel, wetting it with water, and began to clean up the mess I made.

Then I noticed that blood was dripping down my arms. I ran the towel over my cuts, wincing as I felt the rough cloth brush over the open wounds. It was fine though. I just needed all the blood to seep away. After I was done cleaning up, I grabbed a roll of bandages and wrapped up my arms, quite crudely I may add.

Finally, I stored everything away, and I turned to my reflection in the mirror. A sad, gaunt girl stared back at me, her eyes holding a look of shattered brokenness.

I sighed, leaving the bathroom. No one needed to know about this.

Taurus

I frowned, looking around the table. Everyone was here, at dinner, except Cancer. I turned to Ophiuchus. "Do you know where Cancer is?" I asked.

He nodded. "Cancer said she just needed to use the restroom."

"Oh, okay." I began eating the food on my plate, glad that I didn't get too much. A small pile of iceberg lettuce sat on my plate, waiting to be eaten. I picked a piece up and put it in my mouth, feeling the satisfying crunch as I bit down into it.

Wait a minute. This was bad. Eating was bad. Eating meant gaining more weight, which meant being even fatter than I already was. Which I was sure wasn't even possible, considering how I look now.

I stared down glumly at my lettuce, pushing it around with my fork. The greens didn't look so appetizing anymore. I was so concentrated on this that I didn't even hear the scrape of a chair being pulled out next to me, and a plate being set down.

"Hey," a voice said, shaking me out of my thoughts.

I turned to the right, and was surprised to see Cancer sitting there.

"What took you so long?" I asked.

"Oh, me?" Cancer asked, pausing in her chewing. "... I wasn't feeling so good. Must've been something at lunch." Cancer said, laughing a bit.

"Ah, okay." I said, smiling, turning back to my plate.

"Why aren't you eating?" Cancer asked suddenly, glancing down at my plate.

"Oh, I'm not hungry." I said, laughing it off. I couldn't tell her the truth. That I was afraid of eating, that I was so afraid of being even fatter than I was.

Cancer just shrugged, turning back to food.

No one needed to know that I was just a loser who was too afraid of eating.

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Double update 'cause I had this chapter typed up for a while now and why not.