Celeste
The morning sun streamed through the tall windows of my lecture hall, casting a golden glow over my notes.
It was difficult to focus knowing that my dress was waiting for me in my closet at home. I was excited to run home to check on it, to see how the stains looked now that it was dry.
As class came to a close, however, my mind began to wander to lunch. I skipped breakfast that morning, and dinner the night before. I was feeling weak and sick to my stomach, but the pangs of hunger were a constant reminder of my goal: to shed a few pounds for the ball.
It was likely a futile effort; I had gone through phases like this in the past where I tried to starve myself to lose some weight, only to binge at the end of it all and hate myself even more. It would likely be no
