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- Story Listed as: Fiction For Adults
- Theme: Mystery
- Subject: Horror / Scary
- Published: 08/11/2017
Fat
Born 1964, F, from Gordon, ACT, AustraliaFat
Connie sprawled on the sofa, her eyes glued to the television. Her pudgy hand carried salted crisps from packet to mouth until there was nothing left but crumbs and salt dust.
She sighed and heaved herself to her feet. Her favourite show was coming on soon, just enough time to make a hot chocolate and grab a packet of chocolate biscuits. A perfect Sunday afternoon. Or was it Saturday? No, must be Sunday, back to work tomorrow. Rats.
Carrie crammed two biscuits into her mouth and chewed, biscuit crumbs coming to rest on her large bosom. She washed the chocolatey paste down with a mouthful of hot chocolate, groaning with satisfaction, and watched her show.
Maybe just one more biscuit … What the? Where did they go? Carrie surveyed the area around the empty biscuit packet in dismay. She even stood up in case they had somehow migrated under her bum. She must have eaten the entire packet without realising it! Not for the first time, Carrie felt a deep shame, and vowed to go on a diet. Tomorrow. No point starting it this late in the day. And since she was going on a diet tomorrow, might as well make the most of her last night of eating. She ordered a large pizza over the internet. Paused, thinking. One pizza wasn’t very much. Maybe a garlic bread, and half a dozen of those delicious hot fudge profiterole thingies. That would do, she didn’t want to go overboard. She snacked on chocolate covered peanuts until her order arrived.
She woke up the next morning with a sugar hangover and a fresh resolve to do something about her weight. If she could just lose a kilo a week, she’d be under a hundred kilos in … hmm, better make that two kilos a week. And she’d start walking, too! She could easily park on the far side of the car park at work. Maybe from tomorrow, no point in overdoing it on the first day.
Connie ate a frugal breakfast of bacon, eggs, mushrooms, baked beans, toast, and a bowl of cereal. She felt proud of her restraint.
At work, her friend and supervisor eyed her with concern. “Have you put on weight over the weekend?”
Connie shook her head vehemently. “Not at all. In fact, I’ve gone on a diet!”
“Well, good for you,” said Beth dubiously. “Remember, we’re all here to support you if you need us.”
Connie nodded gratefully, and squeezed behind the counter, ready to receive customers. There she sat for the next four hours, sipping a diet coke and slowly starving to death.
Lunchtime, finally! Connie launched herself from her chair, a quick trip to the Ladies’, then down to the cafeteria. The smell of hot food and pastries elicited alarming noises from her stomach, and she felt nearly sick with hunger. She ordered a hamburger with salad, better make that two hamburgers. Potato scallops, a quarter chicken with chips. She eyed the cakes wistfully, then looked away with a deep sigh. Lord, this was testing her willpower.
Beth walked past with a couple of friends, and looked pointedly at Connie’s plate. Connie felt a slow burn. It was fine for Beth and her skinny friends. They had no idea what it was like, how hard it was. Just look at them judging her, they weren’t even giving her points for trying! She was tempted to go and order a big slice of cheesecake. That would show them!
She started feeling ill by mid afternoon, and tracked down her supervisor.
“Beth, I’m going home. Not feeling very well. Must have been something I ate.” She stopped and gripped her stomach, grimacing in pain. Her bowels cramped, and she broke out in a sweat, terrified that she was about to dump several pounds of faeces right there and then. Thankfully, the moment passed, but Carrie knew she had to leave. And soon. She had no desire to clog the work toilets, not after the last time. Everyone had known it was her, and made pointed comments for weeks after. Not one of her finest moments.
Beth looked as though she was going to say something. Oh God, please, not a lecture. Not right now. Carrie blurted out an apology and shuffled off before she terminally humiliated herself.
Oh Lord, the blessed relief when she got home and could sit on her own toilet. She flushed three loads down before she was confident that it was all out, and immediately felt better. Could maybe even eat a little something.
The doorbell rang as she was on her way to the kitchen, and she reluctantly detoured to see who was visiting her at this time of the day. She wasn’t entirely surprised to see Beth at her doorstep, but was a little surprised that she was accompanied by Carrie’s sister, Jennifer, and two other friends.
Without a word, they marched in. Jennifer took Carrie into the bedroom to pack before presenting her, complete with suitcase, to the sombre gathering.
Beth stepped forward. “Carrie, we all care so much about you, and it is breaking our hearts to see you killing yourself with food. I have booked a unit for you at a secure weight loss facility, and we’re going there now.”
Carrie gaped at her, then looked slowly around the circle. “Is this, like, an intervention? What the hell, guys? I’ve just started a diet …”
Beth firmly shut her down. “We have seen you go through one diet after another. It’s not working. You just keep piling on the weight, and you’re going to die before your time. You need help!”
Carrie burst into tears and she sank heavily into a nearby chair. “You think I like being like this?” she wailed. “You think I like people laughing behind my back? You think I like boys throwing rocks at me and calling me names? I can’t help it! Don’t you understand that? I don’t mean to eat, I don’t even remember eating stuff, it just happens!” she sat and sobbed while her friends stood there, looking uncomfortably at each other until the crying jag petered out.
Jennifer knelt beside her and put her arm around as much of Carrie as she could. “Come on, sis. That’s why we’re here. It’s hard to do this yourself. We just want to help. Come on.”
She gently encouraged Carrie to stand up, and the group hustled her out of her house and into Beth’s family wagon.
The half hour drive passed in silence, apart from an occasional sniffle from Carrie, and the relief was palpable as they finally pulled up in front of a pleasant looking cabin with a sturdy front door and discreet bars on the windows.
Beth and Jennifer led Carrie into the unit to meet the senior diet counsellor, while the other two stood guard by the door in case she tried to bolt.
Carried stared uncomprehendingly at the basket of fruit sitting in the middle of the kitchen table. Fearing the worst, she opened the fridge and took in the white space, innocent of food apart from salads and containers of what appeared to be chopped up vegetables.
The counsellor stepped forward. “Hi Carrie. My name is Virginia. I will be guiding you in your weight loss journey.” She waved a nonchalant hand in the direction of the fridge. “Your fridge is stocked with healthy snacks, you can eat as many of those as you like, we will restock them each day and provide three balanced meals for you to prepare however you prefer. You may also have two pieces of fruit each day, and as much salad as you like.”
Carrie looked at Virginia as if she’d grown an extra head. Who the hell ever used “salad” and “like” in the same sentence? And was she supposed to actually eat fruit as if it were food? She slowly backed away, and her guards quickly shut and bolted the door.
Virginia smiled graciously. It wasn’t the first time one of her patients got cold feet. “You will be able to cook your own meat and vegetables to your liking, there are cooking facilities in your unit, plus frying pan, steamer, plates and cutlery. There is access to the recreation facility and gymnasium through the enclosed courtyard at the back of your unit. We encourage our clients to use these facilities to socialise and take advantage of our exercise equipment. What are you doing, dear?”
Carrie jumped guiltily and looked up from her search of the living room cupboards. “I’m listening,” she hurriedly reassured the counsellor. “I was just wondering where the telly is.” And the real food, she glumly added to herself.
Virginia smiled again, and Carrie felt like punching her in the nose. “There is a television set in the recreation room,” she said gently. “We prefer our clients socialise and make an effort to leave their rooms during the day.”
Carrie felt a little stunned, and sat at the kitchen table. “I think I’d like to be alone now, please,” she said mournfully. “When will the food arrive?”
“One of our team members will be along shortly with your dinner for tonight, plus your meal packs for tomorrow.” Virginia swept through the back door and disappeared from view. The girls awkwardly hugged Carrie, and left. Carrie picked up an apple and glared at it before demolishing it, core and all.
Ten minutes later, a cheerful “team member” turned up with a dismayingly small amount of food on a trolley and started packing the food into the fridge. “Hi Carrie, my name is Shelley. I don’t know if Virginia explained about your eating regime. You are allowed three meals per day, plus approved snacks in between. I can’t stress enough that you need to eat each meal at the appropriate time. Each pack is labelled breakfast, lunch and dinner. I will be back tomorrow afternoon with the next set of meals. Have a lovely evening!” She was gone practically before the light in the fridge went out.
Carrie shuffled over and inspected the updated contents of her fridge, hoping that there was some mistake, that the new additions were for one meal. But no. They were clearly labelled Breakfast (8:30am), Lunch (1:30pm), Dinner (6:30pm). Snacks consisted of a small sugar-free, low-fat pudding with low-fat custard, and carrot sticks with ricotta cheese dip. The ricotta cheese looked like lumpy white vomit. She sighed miserably. This was going to be a very long week.
She pulled the dinner pack out and inspected it. A tiny, lean steak about the size of her hand. Beans, pumpkin, mushrooms. She looked under the container in case the rest of the food had somehow slipped out of the pack. Nope, that was it.
The smell of frying meat drove her stomach into a frenzy, and she devoured her dinner in seconds. Then the pudding. The carrot sticks and dip went next, before Carrie cooked and ate tomorrow’s lunch and breakfast. Surely they wouldn’t let her starve! In desperation, she ate the chopped vegetables, then the fruit.
It was dark outside as she ventured towards the recreation room. Two other obvious newcomers sat staring at a cooking show on the television, and Carrie quietly joined them. The sound of someone grunting on the treadmill in the other room all but drowned out the audio, but she watched as a celebrity chef waved a wooden spoon around in ecstasy as he created a dish of something meaty, tomatoey, garlicky. Dessert ingredients sat around the bench, waiting to be transformed into something incredible.
Carrie’s stomach gurgled loudly, and one of the other newcomers smiled sympathetically at her.
Perilously close to tears, Carrie returned to her cabin and went to bed. Tomorrow, she thought. Tomorrow I will hunt down someone and make them give me food. With that promise, she drifted off and dreamed about being surrounded by food that kept disappearing when she reached for it.
The next morning saw Carrie prowling the grounds in search of a staff member. She finally found the main office and rang the bell. An unfamiliar staff member appeared and introduced herself as Debbie. Carrie gave it her best shot.
“Hi, um … someone brought my dinner over last night and said I should come to the office to get today’s meals.” She smiled winningly, her heart sinking at the unconvinced look on Debbie’s face.
“I’ll have to check with Virginia,” she said, and hurried off before Carrie could tell her not to bother. Why couldn’t the dratted woman just take her word for it? Surely these things happened all the time! She felt quite indignant that her word had been questioned, the fact that it was a pack of lies was quite irrelevant.
By the time Virginia arrived, Carrie had worked herself into a self-righteous rage. “You can’t treat me like this!” she scolded. “I’m starving, I only got enough food for one meal last night,” (not entirely untrue, she thought). “You can’t expect me to go for a whole day without eating!” She ran out of steam, and glared at Virginia.
“I’m sorry, dear,” said Virginia. “It would defeat the purpose of your being here if we allowed you to eat as much as you wanted to. We’ve started you off quite gently, really. We’re allowing you twenty-five hundred calories a day …”
“A day! Don’t you mean per meal?”
“No, dear. A woman your age should be eating fifteen hundred calories a day, and that is what we’re ultimately aiming for. As you lose weight, your calorie allowance will decrease.”
“So I’m effectively being punished for losing weight.” Carrie sat on a visitor’s chair and put her face in her hands.
“Please don’t look at it as being punished, you will be rewarded in the long run with good health and a longer life. We will bring you dinner this evening, and meal packs for tomorrow. You need to learn discipline, and tough love is the only way to do it.” Virginia sneered at Carrie’s bowed head, and left the room. Carrie sat motionless in the chair, and wondered how she was going to survive until evening.
The day dragged on. Carrie searched the recreation room and the gymnasium for food. She even considered searching cabins for contraband. At the very least, there would be food packs to be had, but the other units were locked tight. She returned to her own cabin, looked in the fridge, searched cupboards and drawers. To her deep shame, she even looked in the rubbish bin to see if she had thrown out any scraps, peelings, apple cores, anything! But the bin had been emptied.
She had some water and went to bed.
To Carrie’s surprise, she must have fallen asleep. The sound of someone rattling around in her kitchen woke her up. FOOD!!!
Carrie stood up, a wave of dizziness catching her by surprise. Her stomach felt hollow, sick. She knew she was going to eat everything again before the night was through, and felt like crying. She made her way through to the kitchen.
It was Debbie. That low-life, dobbing disbeliever from this morning.
Debbie finished stocking the fridge, straightened and jumped a little when she saw Carrie looming in the doorway.
“Hi, I’m Debbie,” she started. Recognition dawned on her face. “Oh, you’re … from this morning. Did you get it all sorted with Virginia?”
Carrie glared at her. “I haven’t had anything to eat since last night,” she fumed. “And that … that BITCH dared to … she wouldn’t …” Words failed her.
“You’re supposed to eat meals at the proper meal time,” said Debbie sanctimoniously. “It defeats the purpose if we let you eat whatever you ...” Her next words would forever remain unspoken as Carrie punched her in the face. She went down like a sack of potatoes.
Carrie strolled to the fridge and inspected the situation. Fish and salad. Not even real meat. She eyed Debbie’s unconscious body thoughtfully …
Carrie finished her meal and stretched luxuriously, the smell of cooked meat pervaded the cabin. Damn, that was good. She finally felt full for the first time in forever! She eyed the pile of bones with satisfaction, and wondered when her next meal would arrive.
She hoped it was Virginia.
Fat(Hazel Dow)
Fat
Connie sprawled on the sofa, her eyes glued to the television. Her pudgy hand carried salted crisps from packet to mouth until there was nothing left but crumbs and salt dust.
She sighed and heaved herself to her feet. Her favourite show was coming on soon, just enough time to make a hot chocolate and grab a packet of chocolate biscuits. A perfect Sunday afternoon. Or was it Saturday? No, must be Sunday, back to work tomorrow. Rats.
Carrie crammed two biscuits into her mouth and chewed, biscuit crumbs coming to rest on her large bosom. She washed the chocolatey paste down with a mouthful of hot chocolate, groaning with satisfaction, and watched her show.
Maybe just one more biscuit … What the? Where did they go? Carrie surveyed the area around the empty biscuit packet in dismay. She even stood up in case they had somehow migrated under her bum. She must have eaten the entire packet without realising it! Not for the first time, Carrie felt a deep shame, and vowed to go on a diet. Tomorrow. No point starting it this late in the day. And since she was going on a diet tomorrow, might as well make the most of her last night of eating. She ordered a large pizza over the internet. Paused, thinking. One pizza wasn’t very much. Maybe a garlic bread, and half a dozen of those delicious hot fudge profiterole thingies. That would do, she didn’t want to go overboard. She snacked on chocolate covered peanuts until her order arrived.
She woke up the next morning with a sugar hangover and a fresh resolve to do something about her weight. If she could just lose a kilo a week, she’d be under a hundred kilos in … hmm, better make that two kilos a week. And she’d start walking, too! She could easily park on the far side of the car park at work. Maybe from tomorrow, no point in overdoing it on the first day.
Connie ate a frugal breakfast of bacon, eggs, mushrooms, baked beans, toast, and a bowl of cereal. She felt proud of her restraint.
At work, her friend and supervisor eyed her with concern. “Have you put on weight over the weekend?”
Connie shook her head vehemently. “Not at all. In fact, I’ve gone on a diet!”
“Well, good for you,” said Beth dubiously. “Remember, we’re all here to support you if you need us.”
Connie nodded gratefully, and squeezed behind the counter, ready to receive customers. There she sat for the next four hours, sipping a diet coke and slowly starving to death.
Lunchtime, finally! Connie launched herself from her chair, a quick trip to the Ladies’, then down to the cafeteria. The smell of hot food and pastries elicited alarming noises from her stomach, and she felt nearly sick with hunger. She ordered a hamburger with salad, better make that two hamburgers. Potato scallops, a quarter chicken with chips. She eyed the cakes wistfully, then looked away with a deep sigh. Lord, this was testing her willpower.
Beth walked past with a couple of friends, and looked pointedly at Connie’s plate. Connie felt a slow burn. It was fine for Beth and her skinny friends. They had no idea what it was like, how hard it was. Just look at them judging her, they weren’t even giving her points for trying! She was tempted to go and order a big slice of cheesecake. That would show them!
She started feeling ill by mid afternoon, and tracked down her supervisor.
“Beth, I’m going home. Not feeling very well. Must have been something I ate.” She stopped and gripped her stomach, grimacing in pain. Her bowels cramped, and she broke out in a sweat, terrified that she was about to dump several pounds of faeces right there and then. Thankfully, the moment passed, but Carrie knew she had to leave. And soon. She had no desire to clog the work toilets, not after the last time. Everyone had known it was her, and made pointed comments for weeks after. Not one of her finest moments.
Beth looked as though she was going to say something. Oh God, please, not a lecture. Not right now. Carrie blurted out an apology and shuffled off before she terminally humiliated herself.
Oh Lord, the blessed relief when she got home and could sit on her own toilet. She flushed three loads down before she was confident that it was all out, and immediately felt better. Could maybe even eat a little something.
The doorbell rang as she was on her way to the kitchen, and she reluctantly detoured to see who was visiting her at this time of the day. She wasn’t entirely surprised to see Beth at her doorstep, but was a little surprised that she was accompanied by Carrie’s sister, Jennifer, and two other friends.
Without a word, they marched in. Jennifer took Carrie into the bedroom to pack before presenting her, complete with suitcase, to the sombre gathering.
Beth stepped forward. “Carrie, we all care so much about you, and it is breaking our hearts to see you killing yourself with food. I have booked a unit for you at a secure weight loss facility, and we’re going there now.”
Carrie gaped at her, then looked slowly around the circle. “Is this, like, an intervention? What the hell, guys? I’ve just started a diet …”
Beth firmly shut her down. “We have seen you go through one diet after another. It’s not working. You just keep piling on the weight, and you’re going to die before your time. You need help!”
Carrie burst into tears and she sank heavily into a nearby chair. “You think I like being like this?” she wailed. “You think I like people laughing behind my back? You think I like boys throwing rocks at me and calling me names? I can’t help it! Don’t you understand that? I don’t mean to eat, I don’t even remember eating stuff, it just happens!” she sat and sobbed while her friends stood there, looking uncomfortably at each other until the crying jag petered out.
Jennifer knelt beside her and put her arm around as much of Carrie as she could. “Come on, sis. That’s why we’re here. It’s hard to do this yourself. We just want to help. Come on.”
She gently encouraged Carrie to stand up, and the group hustled her out of her house and into Beth’s family wagon.
The half hour drive passed in silence, apart from an occasional sniffle from Carrie, and the relief was palpable as they finally pulled up in front of a pleasant looking cabin with a sturdy front door and discreet bars on the windows.
Beth and Jennifer led Carrie into the unit to meet the senior diet counsellor, while the other two stood guard by the door in case she tried to bolt.
Carried stared uncomprehendingly at the basket of fruit sitting in the middle of the kitchen table. Fearing the worst, she opened the fridge and took in the white space, innocent of food apart from salads and containers of what appeared to be chopped up vegetables.
The counsellor stepped forward. “Hi Carrie. My name is Virginia. I will be guiding you in your weight loss journey.” She waved a nonchalant hand in the direction of the fridge. “Your fridge is stocked with healthy snacks, you can eat as many of those as you like, we will restock them each day and provide three balanced meals for you to prepare however you prefer. You may also have two pieces of fruit each day, and as much salad as you like.”
Carrie looked at Virginia as if she’d grown an extra head. Who the hell ever used “salad” and “like” in the same sentence? And was she supposed to actually eat fruit as if it were food? She slowly backed away, and her guards quickly shut and bolted the door.
Virginia smiled graciously. It wasn’t the first time one of her patients got cold feet. “You will be able to cook your own meat and vegetables to your liking, there are cooking facilities in your unit, plus frying pan, steamer, plates and cutlery. There is access to the recreation facility and gymnasium through the enclosed courtyard at the back of your unit. We encourage our clients to use these facilities to socialise and take advantage of our exercise equipment. What are you doing, dear?”
Carrie jumped guiltily and looked up from her search of the living room cupboards. “I’m listening,” she hurriedly reassured the counsellor. “I was just wondering where the telly is.” And the real food, she glumly added to herself.
Virginia smiled again, and Carrie felt like punching her in the nose. “There is a television set in the recreation room,” she said gently. “We prefer our clients socialise and make an effort to leave their rooms during the day.”
Carrie felt a little stunned, and sat at the kitchen table. “I think I’d like to be alone now, please,” she said mournfully. “When will the food arrive?”
“One of our team members will be along shortly with your dinner for tonight, plus your meal packs for tomorrow.” Virginia swept through the back door and disappeared from view. The girls awkwardly hugged Carrie, and left. Carrie picked up an apple and glared at it before demolishing it, core and all.
Ten minutes later, a cheerful “team member” turned up with a dismayingly small amount of food on a trolley and started packing the food into the fridge. “Hi Carrie, my name is Shelley. I don’t know if Virginia explained about your eating regime. You are allowed three meals per day, plus approved snacks in between. I can’t stress enough that you need to eat each meal at the appropriate time. Each pack is labelled breakfast, lunch and dinner. I will be back tomorrow afternoon with the next set of meals. Have a lovely evening!” She was gone practically before the light in the fridge went out.
Carrie shuffled over and inspected the updated contents of her fridge, hoping that there was some mistake, that the new additions were for one meal. But no. They were clearly labelled Breakfast (8:30am), Lunch (1:30pm), Dinner (6:30pm). Snacks consisted of a small sugar-free, low-fat pudding with low-fat custard, and carrot sticks with ricotta cheese dip. The ricotta cheese looked like lumpy white vomit. She sighed miserably. This was going to be a very long week.
She pulled the dinner pack out and inspected it. A tiny, lean steak about the size of her hand. Beans, pumpkin, mushrooms. She looked under the container in case the rest of the food had somehow slipped out of the pack. Nope, that was it.
The smell of frying meat drove her stomach into a frenzy, and she devoured her dinner in seconds. Then the pudding. The carrot sticks and dip went next, before Carrie cooked and ate tomorrow’s lunch and breakfast. Surely they wouldn’t let her starve! In desperation, she ate the chopped vegetables, then the fruit.
It was dark outside as she ventured towards the recreation room. Two other obvious newcomers sat staring at a cooking show on the television, and Carrie quietly joined them. The sound of someone grunting on the treadmill in the other room all but drowned out the audio, but she watched as a celebrity chef waved a wooden spoon around in ecstasy as he created a dish of something meaty, tomatoey, garlicky. Dessert ingredients sat around the bench, waiting to be transformed into something incredible.
Carrie’s stomach gurgled loudly, and one of the other newcomers smiled sympathetically at her.
Perilously close to tears, Carrie returned to her cabin and went to bed. Tomorrow, she thought. Tomorrow I will hunt down someone and make them give me food. With that promise, she drifted off and dreamed about being surrounded by food that kept disappearing when she reached for it.
The next morning saw Carrie prowling the grounds in search of a staff member. She finally found the main office and rang the bell. An unfamiliar staff member appeared and introduced herself as Debbie. Carrie gave it her best shot.
“Hi, um … someone brought my dinner over last night and said I should come to the office to get today’s meals.” She smiled winningly, her heart sinking at the unconvinced look on Debbie’s face.
“I’ll have to check with Virginia,” she said, and hurried off before Carrie could tell her not to bother. Why couldn’t the dratted woman just take her word for it? Surely these things happened all the time! She felt quite indignant that her word had been questioned, the fact that it was a pack of lies was quite irrelevant.
By the time Virginia arrived, Carrie had worked herself into a self-righteous rage. “You can’t treat me like this!” she scolded. “I’m starving, I only got enough food for one meal last night,” (not entirely untrue, she thought). “You can’t expect me to go for a whole day without eating!” She ran out of steam, and glared at Virginia.
“I’m sorry, dear,” said Virginia. “It would defeat the purpose of your being here if we allowed you to eat as much as you wanted to. We’ve started you off quite gently, really. We’re allowing you twenty-five hundred calories a day …”
“A day! Don’t you mean per meal?”
“No, dear. A woman your age should be eating fifteen hundred calories a day, and that is what we’re ultimately aiming for. As you lose weight, your calorie allowance will decrease.”
“So I’m effectively being punished for losing weight.” Carrie sat on a visitor’s chair and put her face in her hands.
“Please don’t look at it as being punished, you will be rewarded in the long run with good health and a longer life. We will bring you dinner this evening, and meal packs for tomorrow. You need to learn discipline, and tough love is the only way to do it.” Virginia sneered at Carrie’s bowed head, and left the room. Carrie sat motionless in the chair, and wondered how she was going to survive until evening.
The day dragged on. Carrie searched the recreation room and the gymnasium for food. She even considered searching cabins for contraband. At the very least, there would be food packs to be had, but the other units were locked tight. She returned to her own cabin, looked in the fridge, searched cupboards and drawers. To her deep shame, she even looked in the rubbish bin to see if she had thrown out any scraps, peelings, apple cores, anything! But the bin had been emptied.
She had some water and went to bed.
To Carrie’s surprise, she must have fallen asleep. The sound of someone rattling around in her kitchen woke her up. FOOD!!!
Carrie stood up, a wave of dizziness catching her by surprise. Her stomach felt hollow, sick. She knew she was going to eat everything again before the night was through, and felt like crying. She made her way through to the kitchen.
It was Debbie. That low-life, dobbing disbeliever from this morning.
Debbie finished stocking the fridge, straightened and jumped a little when she saw Carrie looming in the doorway.
“Hi, I’m Debbie,” she started. Recognition dawned on her face. “Oh, you’re … from this morning. Did you get it all sorted with Virginia?”
Carrie glared at her. “I haven’t had anything to eat since last night,” she fumed. “And that … that BITCH dared to … she wouldn’t …” Words failed her.
“You’re supposed to eat meals at the proper meal time,” said Debbie sanctimoniously. “It defeats the purpose if we let you eat whatever you ...” Her next words would forever remain unspoken as Carrie punched her in the face. She went down like a sack of potatoes.
Carrie strolled to the fridge and inspected the situation. Fish and salad. Not even real meat. She eyed Debbie’s unconscious body thoughtfully …
Carrie finished her meal and stretched luxuriously, the smell of cooked meat pervaded the cabin. Damn, that was good. She finally felt full for the first time in forever! She eyed the pile of bones with satisfaction, and wondered when her next meal would arrive.
She hoped it was Virginia.
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