Today was such a bad day. I was so sick (with a cold) this morning I stayed home from school.

But by 10 a.m., I felt well enough for a snack.
By 12 p.m., my brother had gone to school and mom and dad were sleeping.
I was alone.
I hate being alone, because things like this happen.

There was a loaf of bread and butter in the fridge.
The entire loaf is gone.
A stick of butter, gone.
A bowl of ravioli, gone.
A bowl of pudding, gone.
Three rolls with butter, gone.
There was dessert with sweet potatoes, brown sugar, and marshmallows.
The entire casserole is gone.

All I can think about is screwing up all the dieting I've been doing. All I can think about is all the weight I'm going to put on. I want to cut the fat off my body. I hate it so much. I hate myself so much. Nothing works. This is impossible. People around the world starve while I lock myself in the pantry and dump bread into a can of sweetened condensed milk. I shut myself in my room and eat a half-gallon of ice cream and puke it up later. Bread doesn't come up, especially when you haven't had much liquids. It's going to sit there and make me fat.

I just want to lock myself in my room and cry.