Two Months, Three Days

Click. There goes the sound that isolates her from the world. She turned the lock and flicked on the switch, the dull lighting barely reflecting off the cracked linoleum flooring. She slowly stripped off her sweater and laid it neatly by the porcelain toilet, grimacing at what would come next. It was the same routine every day. She bent on her hands and knees, the cold from the floor sending shivers up her arm. She leaned over into the white bowl.

She remembered the first time she did this-two months and three days ago. It was the first time that she had ever felt 'fat'. That morning, her jeans didn't fit, her shirt was too tight, and she was bloated from the large supper her family had last night. Her best friend was the first to notice this-but she didn't say anything. The blond knew that the pinkette was already worried about the final exams-and her boyfriend, a hot senior who could dump her at anytime. But when the pair got to school, the blond had a different class, so the pinkette was left to fend for herself. When Saaya and Utau saw the girl, they immediately knew that she was growing.

And for the first time, the girl had been called 'fat'.

But the insults didn't stop there.

Utau and Saaya soon found many faults in the girl. They made up malicious rumors, called her names, and never failed to say something about her weight. In just two months and three days, the girl had gone from 'cool and spicy' to 'fat and ugly'.

She sighed, raising a finger to her throat. The knuckles on the back of her hand were already scarred from the countless other times she had purged. Even though she'd been doing this everyday after school, the activity still scared her. Her breath became panicky, her knees felt clammy and locked up, and her heart began to beat faster. Disobeying her brain, though, she opened her mouth and slowly stuck her index finger down her throat, pulling it out as soon as she touched her uvula. Instantly, she threw her head into the bowl and vomited, only to find that there was almost nothing.

She wiped her mouth and reeled back to try and remember what she had for lunch. A piece of broccoli…half a glass of water…and a cracker. She scowled. Standing up, she stepped onto the scale to measure her progress. At a height of five feet and six inches, she only weighed ninety-three pounds. "Damn it," she cursed. Her goal was to be seventy-five by the end of this week.

She sighed and slipped back into her sweatshirt. She wasn't going to eat supper tonight, or breakfast tomorrow. That would do the trick, she thought, smiling serenely. That would do the trick.

"We are gathered here today to honor the memory of a loved one, " the pastor said quietly, looking to the ground. Even though it was raining, the family refused to change the date for the funeral. The dark-haired boy silently watched the mourning couple as they tried to explain the loss to their youngest daughter. He shook his head and slipped his hood over his head; why didn't he see this coming? He had noticed cuts on his girlfriend's arms, and that she was getting increasingly light and bony.

"Damn it," he growled, kicking the ground. From the corner of his eye he saw his sister, Utau, look at him. He saw the guilty look in her eyes; she had harassed his girlfriend to the breaking point. It wasn't his fault-it was his damn sister's fault! "What if some of us aren't gathered here?" the boy asked in outrage. "What if some of us were forced to come by a guilty conscience?" He narrowed his eyes and looked pointedly at his sister. She swallowed and looked to the ground.

The pastor stared at him. "What?"

The boy smiled. "You heard me. Some of us here don't give a fucking damn about her—they just came because they felt guilty."

"I think it's time you left," the mother stated.

The boy scowled. "I bet you didn't give a damn about her either."

"Ikuto!" the boy's mother, Souko, yelled.

"I bet you wanted her to die!"

"I wanted no such thing."

"Oh yeah? Then how com e you didn't notice what the fuck she was doing to herself until it was too fucking late! Why the hell did you just sit back and let the damage to the trick! You fucking bitch!"

"Ikuto, we are going—" The boy brushed his mother off.

"You saw it too, and you chose to do nothing," the mother of the dead daughter spat back with narrowed eyes. "Now I suggest you leave before I make you leave myself."

The fallen leaves crunched under the weight of his foot. He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked up at the sky. The words still rang in his ears. 'You saw it too-and you did nothing.' He looked at the small gravestone with a remorseful gaze. "I did nothing."

Suddenly, a gust of wind picked up. The fallen leaves rose up with the wind and began to circle around him in a slow, taunting motion. "What the hell?" he whispered, afraid to move. Then, he felt a hand touch his shoulder and felt a ghastly shiver go up his spine. He turned and saw her. She was only visible within the light of the moon. Her skin sparkled, her long pink hair danced with the wind, and her honey eyes stared at him with longing. He knew that it was probably a dream, but she looked so real.

"Amu…" he whispered, stepping forward. She smiled and took a step back. He took another step forward, and she took another step back. Soon, they were playing a game. It led them all the way to a river. When they got to the edge of the bank, she moved until she was on the other side. He looked at her, confused. She pointed to the river.

"Join me…" she said in a faint voice. "Join me if you love me."

He knew that the next move he was going to make would be a stupid one; he knew it. But more than anything in the world, he wanted to be with her, to hold her one more time. He took off his shoes and dipped a toe in the water. It was extremely cold. He looked back up at her. She nodded encouragingly. "I love you."

"I love you too."

The dark-haired boy took a breath. "I'll be right there," he assured.

"I'll be waiting."

He jumped into the river and closed his eyes. Soon, he was feeling nothing. He climbed out of the lake. The girl offered her fragile, transparent hand. He took it, and together, they walked, their silhouettes faded into the darkness.