Eat.

It's the word on the poster in the canteen, the one in green right in the centre. Cassie gulps and turns her head. It's not what she wants to see today, a reminder of the failure that she knows she is inside.

It's not something that she ever really wants to see.

She takes a nearly empty bottle of water from her bag and tips it perfectly upside down, letting the few precious droplets contained within hit her tongue. "I'm not hungry," she whispers to herself. "It's just thirst. That's all it ever is. I just need to drink more and the pain will go away." Nodding, she starts to believe her own words. Every time she says them, her ribs protruding suddenly seems a little less dangerous. Her frail body is normalised in her mind every single time she mutters something under her breath, words of assurance she could never get from anybody other than herself.

She slowly makes her way to class, not thinking about the poster again, distracted by her teacher's words. College is good, it distracts her in a way neither alcohol nor weed ever could. Both of those could lead to weight gain, her worst nightmare, but sitting in a room full of nonchalant teenagers gives her time to think. Time to reassure herself that nothing is wrong with her, she's fine.

"I'm fine." Once again, her words are only audible to her, but that's all that matters. Nobody else needs to know her business anyway.

For the remainder of the afternoon, she is okay. Whenever her stomach starts to growl at her, she just simply asks a friend for a sip of their water, conscious of the fact that her own has run out. They usually oblige, and it sorts everything out for her for a little while at least. This way, she can make it through the afternoon. She hasn't fainted at college in months, and that's something she's incredibly proud of. Not everyone can say the same, after all. At least, she thinks that's the case.

She could have sworn that that girl with the heroine addiction fainted more recently than she did, and that means that everything is in place. She has no reason to worry, because she's perfectly normal.

She isn't crazy, she swears.

By the time the final bell rings and she's ready to go home, she has almost forgotten about the poster. Alas, she still has to walk through the canteen in order to leave the place. Though she tries to avert her eyes, she cannot help but notice the paint now covering part of the word. It's likely just from an art student, not maliceful at all, but it's enough to set her off.

She runs as fast as she can, as far away from the canteen as she can get before she runs out of breath. Regardless, the new word still plays on her mind, making her feel repulsed by every inch of the body that she cannot see is almost skeletal.

Fat.