Morbidly obese.
She was twelve when they told her that. “This is very common among children in this generation,” the pediatrician continued. “At twelve, she should be a hundred pounds. Not a hundred and fifty.”
Kay Summersby remembered her mother, a power-broker mom who probably knew more about her secretary than she did about her own daughters, only nodding. It was 2001. She heard the phone ring while the doctor was finishing up her lecture. Her mother calmly took out the phone and took the call. The doctor looked shocked, and Kay was mortified.
Every year, they would tell her, or her mother, or sometimes her dad, that she was morbidly obese. “At risk for diabetes. At risk for a heart attack. At risk for cancer.” Her father laughed the last one off, “You breathe, you’re at risk for cancer.”
At the age of 18, she weighed over 200 pounds. She couldn’t fit in some of the school desks so they had to get table and chairs for her. And always, the kids teased her. They’d run at her and bounce off her, calling her the Stay-Pufft Girl. And more, a lot more. But she surpassed them academically, which made it even worse. Now she wasn’t only the fat chick, but the school nerd.
She escaped, however, by reading. Her parents merely shook their heads at her, not understanding why she spent all her money on books, and went through them voraciously. Then came a scene reminiscent of Carrie by Stephen King. She was asked out by a boy to the prom. It was a serious date, as he was also the school nerd, though everyone called him a faggot.
She went to the prom, was having a great time, and then as people started leaving, they commented that she wouldn’t be able to have sex because she’d crush the guy, or the guy’s penis wouldn’t be able to fit through the layers of fat…and she realized that was entirely possible. It all came to a head then, and instead of going home, she went to the Newport Bridge and was ready to jump.
Then something appeared on the wind, a breeze buffeted her, warm against the chill night air. It wrapped her in comfort, and whispered to her, “What do you wish for?”
“I want to be thin,” she said, “and pretty.”
“You are pretty,” said the gentle voice, “I will grant your wish, but you must do something for me.”
“Anything. I want to eat anything and never be fat, ever again.”
Then, a woman was coming down the sidewalk part of the bridge toward her. Kay watched the woman bundle herself against the cold sea breeze and then stop short just a few yards away from her. The woman nodded. “I was told to meet you here.”
“Who are you?”
“Adele. And I’ll be your personal trainer, it seems.”
She was angry. That voice lied. She would have to diet and exercise, just like they wanted her to.
The woman asked, “Are you ready?”
“Forget it,” Kay said, and started to walk away.
“No, you agreed.”
“If I wanted exercise I would have joined a gym.”
The woman ran up to her, and beyond her a little, to stand in front of her. “No,” the woman said. “I was told to make you thin.” Then the woman pulled out a wicked sword from somewhere at her side. “And that’s what this is for.”
“You’re going to kill me!”
“No, no,” the woman said with a small laugh. She raised the blade, and sliced at Kay’s stomach. A huge chunk of her flesh fell away, blood spurting from the wound.
Kay fainted.
She jerked up as the smell hit her – it stunk like brimstone. She found herself on something soft, and a man in a blue uniform with a medical crest over the pocket was standing over her. “Are you okay?” he asked, looking at her.
She looked around – she was on a gurney, in an ambulance. She looked at the ceiling, and thought that they must have made ambulances bigger because she normally wouldn’t fit on the gurney. Then she looked down at herself.
She was smaller. She only saw the swell of her breasts through her sweater. The rolls of fat that rivaled her breasts were gone. She put a hand across her stomach – it was slim. She could reach across her stomach. Her arms were thinner, too. Her clothes hung off her like a jacket on a scarecrow.
“Are you okay?” he repeated, watching her. She had a look of confusion on her face. “Do you know your name?”
She focused on him, her hands covering her stomach. “Kay. Kay Summersby.”
“Do you know where you live?”
“138 Phoenix Road, apartment 3B.”
“Is that your car at the end of the toll booth?”
“I…I guess.”
Another man in blue peeked in, this one a policeman. “Is she okay?”
“Yeah, let’s give her a minute to get her bearings.”
The policeman nodded and stepped back. The EMT smiled down at her. “What were you doing up here, anyway?”
“I was going to jump.”
He looked her over. “What for? You have plenty to live for.”
Now, I do, she thought. Now, I do.
Words: 877
Inspiration: If only I had the choice…
Music: none really