Chapter 115
Third–person POV
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Marlene stood on the weight scale, her heart pounding in her chest as she nervously bit her fingernails,
waiting for her mother’s verdict. It was the end of the week, the dreaded day when her mother would
assess her progress on her weight loss journey, a journey that had consumed her life for the past three
years.
Her mother’s voice echoed in her mind, and the cruel words seared into her memory like a brand.
Three years ago, when she was just eleven years old, she had been told that she had to be beautiful to
be recognized, and in her mother’s eyes, beauty equated to thinness.
In her mother’s own words, “You can’t expect to be seen as beautiful when you look like you have
dumplings stuck in your cheeks, Marlene. If you want to be respected, and praised, you have to stop
looking like a stuffed turkey. Only then will you be taken seriously.”
She remembered how she had beenbeled as overweight and unattractive by her mother on several
asions, a fate that had driven her to desperate measures to shed the unwanted pounds.
Over the years, Marlene had subjected herself to extreme diets, popped pills to suppress her appetite,
and exercised relentlessly in a bid to meet her mother’s unattainable standards of beauty. Each
setback and each teau in her weight loss journey had been met with punishment from her mother,
driving Marlene further into a cycle of self–loathing and despair.
If she failed, she’d be dealt with.
As she stood on the scale, anxiety wing at her insides, Marlene braced herself for the inevitable
verdict. If she had lost weight, she would be rewarded with a meager feast by her mother’s standards–
arger quantity of fruit sd instead of the few pieces of fruit she usually had every morning, yogurt
instead of in shakes that usually tasted like grass.
On rare asions, she might be allowed a minuscule serving of a burger or a piece of chicken feet,
deemed eptable in her mother’s eyes as “less fattening” options.
Time seemed to stretch on endlessly as Marlene waited for her mother’s voice, the air thick with
anticipation and fear. And then, finally, her mother spoke, her wordsnding like a heavy blow on
Marlene’s already fragile spirit.
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“You’ve gained even more weight, Marlene. You’re still fat and not beautiful enough to be respected,”
her mother’s voice rang out, the sentence cutting through Marlene like a knife. The weight of her
mother’s disapproval and disappointment hit her hard, crushing her spirit and reinforcing the harsh
reality of her existence.
Tears welled up in Marlene’s eyes as she fought to hold back the torrent of emotions threatening to
consume her. The constant barrage of criticism and expectations had taken its toll on her, leaving her
trapped in a cycle of self–hatred and despair.
Marlene stared up at her mother, her mother’s disappointment and disgust etched into the lines of her
face. Her failure pressed down on her as she mustered the courage to speak, her voice tinged with
shame.
“I’m sorry, Mom. I’ll do better next time, I promise,” Marlene whispered, her words a meek attempt to
cate her mother’s anger and disappointment.
Mary scoffed at her daughter’s apology, her toneced with bitterness as she retorted, “You will do
better next time, Marlene. I’ll make sure of it.”
Fidgeting nervously, Marlene felt her impending punishment settle around her heavily. With a sigh, she
mustered the courage to ask the inevitable question.
“What’s my punishment, Mom?” Marlene’s voice trembled slightly, her gaze fixed on her mother’s stern
expression as she braced herself for the consequences of her failure.
Mary’s frown deepened as she met Marlene’s gaze, her voice sharp as she delivered the sentence that
would confirm Marlene’s fate. “For your first punishment, you will have nothing but water for the next
two days. And if you dare to disobey me and eat anything else, I will have you locked in your room and
ensure you don’t eat anything for a week,” Mary dered.
Tears threatened to spill from Marlene’s eyes, but steeling herself against the emotions threatening to
overwhelm her, she fought to keep herposure, knowing that any disy of weakness would on fuel
her mother’s anger.
“As for your second punishment,/Marlene, you must learn to vomit at will. It’s the only way you’ll
achieve the beauty you need to seed in this world,” Mary said, her tone cold and devoid of any hint
of warmth orpassion.
Confusion clouded Marlene’s mind, her eyes wide with disbelief as she struggled toprehend her
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mother’s demand. Before she could voice her confusion, Mary’s grip tightened on her arm, pulling her
closer to the bathroom.
“In here. Now, Mary’s voice brooked no argument as she led Marlene to the toilet, her instructions clear
and upromising. With a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, Marlene knew she had no choice
but toply with her mother’s wishes.
Once inside the confines of the bathroom, Mary wasted no time in giving Marlene her next directive.
“Stick two of your fingers down your throat, Marlene. You can’t stop until you’ve vomited. This is the
path to beauty, to perfection.”
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Marlene’s hands trembled as she raised them to her mouth, the bitter taste of defeat lingering on her
tongue. With a deep breath to steady herself, she forced her fingers down her throat, fighting back the
wave of revulsion that threatened to overwhelm her.
But when Marlene couldn’t induce the desired result, Mary’s voice sliced through her efforts like a knife.
“Pick up your toothbrush, Marlene. Use it to reach deeper and ensure you vomit. This is the only way,”
she instructed.
With a sense of resignation settling over her, Marlene obeyed, her movements mechanical as she
followed her mother’s instructions. The bristles of the toothbrush scraped against the sensitive skin at
the back of her throat, eliciting a gag reflex that wed at her insides.
And then, finally, the floodgates opened, and Marlene vomited into the toilet bowl, the acrid taste
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of bile burning her throat as she expelled the contents of her stomach. The sound echoed in the quiet
room, a reminder of the depths to which she had fallen in her quest for eptance and respect.
As Marlene finished, her eyes flicked up to meet her mother’s gaze, a jumble of emotions swirling in
them. Mary nodded in approval, a twisted smile curling the corners of her lips as she spoke with chilling
satisfaction.
“You did great, Marlene. Keep this up, and soon you’ll be even more beautiful than Amber. You’re on
the right path now” she assured her.
Mary entered back into the room, her gaze steady as she looked at Marlene. Despite the contrast
between her earlier harshness and her current calm demeanor, a feeling of unease settled over
Marlene.
Sitting on the edge of Marlene’s bed, Mary’s voice was soft. “Marlene, you must always remember that
everything I do is for your sake. I want only the best for you, even if it means taking drastic
measures.”
Marlene’s eyes met her mother’s, uncertainty clouding her gaze. She listened in silence as Mary
continued, her voice a gentle yet insistent reminder of how Marlene just wasn’t good enough yet.
“Amber’s mother took my rightful ce because I wasn’t beautiful enough, Marlene. I became a
second choice, a mere shadow of what I could have been. Do you want to end up like me? Do you
want to be second choice, or do you want to rise above and be truly seen?” she questioned.
Marlene’s heart ached at her mother’s words, but she nodded slowly, allowing her mother’s words to
settle around her.
“I understand, Mom. I don’t want to be a second choice, and I’ll do whatever it takes to be truly seen,”
she assured her mother.
Mary’s gaze softened, a fleeting look of pride flickering in her eyes before she rose from the bed.
“Remember, Marlene, I’m the only one who wants what’s best for you. The rest of the world doesn’t
care Listen to me, follow my guidance, and you’ll be the beauty you were always meant to be,” she
warned
again.
Her words held a finality that brooked no argument, a reminder of the power she held over Marlene’s
fragile sense of self.
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With onest look at her daughter, Mary turned and left the room, and as Marlene watched her mother
disappear down the hallway, a sense of istion washed over her.
Marlene sat huddled in the bathtub, her body submerged in a pool of lukewarm water, tears streaming
down her cheeks in despair. She clutched her knees to her chest, the waterpping gently against her
skin, a chilling reminder of the void that threatened to consume her.
“I’m perfect. I’m perfect, I’m perfect.” Marlene’s voice cracked, the words a desperate mantra that she
whispered to herself over and over, a feeble attempt to drown out the voices of doubt and self–loathing
that swirled in the depths of her soul.
But as she remembered what perfection really looked like, a sudden realization pierced through the veil
of her mental anguish. Marlene’s muttering faltered, her heart constricted with a sense of bitter betrayal
as she felt the lie of her own words settle like a stone in the pit of her stomach.
“I’m not perfect, I’m not perfect, I’m not perfect!” The words tore from Marlene’s lips in a hoarse
scream, a raw expression of the self–hatred that threatened to engulf her.
In a moment of unbearable desperation, Marlene submerged her head under the water, the liquid
swirling around her like a veil of darkness that aimed to suffocate her. The urge to simply let go, to
surrender to the depths and never resurface, wed at her insides, a siren song of release from the
relentless torment that haunted her every waking moment.
As the water pressed against her ears and blurred her vision, Marlene’s mind was a whirlwind of
conflicting emotions. She felt lost, disgusting, and unfortunate, a shadow of the girl she thought she
could be if she worked hard enough.
But as the seconds stretched, a new resolve seeped into the cracks of Marlene’s fractured psyche. She
wanted to end her life, but she didn’t want to face the darkness alone. If she was going to leave this
world, she needed apanion, someone who embodied the perfection she could never attain.
Amber. The name flickered in her mind, an embodiment of all the inadequacies and insecurities that
Marlene had carried in her for so long. Amber was an embodiment of everything she was not, the
standard against which Marlene had measured her own worth and found herselfcking.
With a deep breath, Marlene climbed out of the bathtub, the cold tiles biting into her skin as she stood
shakily on unsteady legs. With trembling hands, she reached for the razor, her fingers curling
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The razor felt heavy in her hand, a weapon of both destruction and liberation. And as she made her
way back into the tub, she prepared to call Amber’s attention, knowing Amber’s room was right next to
hers.
With a sudden burst of energy, Marlene let out a scream that tore through the silence of the bathroom.
She screamed and screamed, the sound reverberating in her ears like a cry of torment. Each cry was a
plea for Amber’s attention, a desperate call for Amber to hear her pain ande to her aid.
Amber sat at her desk, looking across her textbooks and notes. She had been studying, but as the
minutes ticked by, a sudden sound shattered the peace of the evening–a piercing scream that echoed
through the walls of her room.
Startled by the sudden outburst, Amber’s heart clenched. The scream had originated from Marlene’s
room and in an instant, worry wed at Amber’s chest. With a swift movement, she pushed back her
chair and raced towards her sister’s room, her mind clouded with fear.
“Marlene? Marlene, are you okay?” Amber’s voice was filled with concern as she called out to her
sister, and the silence that followed her question was as chilling as the initial scream.
Marlene was satisfied when she heard Amber’s voice calling out to her. Her hands clenched around the
razor, the metal cool against her trembling fingers as she steeled herself for what she knew muste
next.
With a deep breath, Marlene pressed the de against her wrist, the metal biting into her flesh with
almost clinical precision. The pain was sharp and immediate, a searing reminder of the finality of her
actions as crimson blood welled up from the wound, staining the water around her in patterns of red.
As Marlene’s scream reverberated through the walls, a sense of terror gripped Amber’s heart. Without
hesitation, she rushed into the bathroom, a flood of emotions crashing over her as she took in the
scene before her. The sight of Marlene, pale and weak, lying in the bathtub with a bleeding wrist sent a
shiver of horror down Amber’s spine.
“Marlene, what have you done?” Amber’s voice was filled with a mixture of shock and anguish as she
kneeled beside her sister, her hands trembling as she tried to staunch the flow of blood from the
wound.
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Mariene, what nave you gone: Ampers voice was nied with a mixture or snock and anguish as sne
kneeled beside her sister, her hands trembling as she tried to staunch the flow of blood from the
wound.
Panic wed at her throat, threatening to overwhelm her as she struggled to make sense of the
harrowing scene unfolding before her eyes.
Marlene’s gaze met Amber’s, tears glistening in her eyes as she whispered in a shaky voice, “Save me,
Amber, please… save me.”
She knew Amber was weak, and she wanted to y on her weakness to get what she wanted. If she
can’t
be happy in life, Amber shouldn’t be happy either.
Confusion clouded Amber’s mind as she struggled to process the gravity of the situation. She held-
onto Marlene’s wrist with a fierce grip, her heart pounding in her chest as she tried to stop the
flow of blood with shaking hands while wondering how to call for help.
“How can I save you, Marlene? What do you need me to do?”
She searched Marlene’s tear–streaked face for answers, her heart aching at the sight of her sister’s
suffering.
A weak smile flickered across Marlene’s face–a smile of satisfaction and eptance. With tears
glistening in her eyes and on the verge of unconsciousness, she whispered a response to Amber softly:
“The only way you can save me, Amber, is to die with me. If you die with me, I’ll find peace.”
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