𝙾𝚌𝚎𝚊𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝙴𝚖𝚘𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜

𝚃𝚠𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚢-𝚏𝚒𝚟𝚎

My eyes quiver open to the sensation of my hip bones pressing upon the mattress. I roll over onto my back, the flashbacks eluding me. I was running a race, but my knees were giving out. Girls were passing me. On the track, a firing squad executed me. A recurring nightmare.

Biology test. P.E. prac assessment. Visual Art portfolio. Get out of bed. You're wasting time. You need to start your day. Be productive.

I swing my legs over the side of the bed. I sit up. Stand up. My pyjama pants fall to the ground.

Why Mum bought me a size 16 I don't know. I've never been a size 16. Never even close.

My head feels light but I manage to pull them up to my waist. Holding them there, I make it to my light switch. But with my spare hand, I just hold the wall. My head feels as though I spent the last hour on a speeding carousel. And now my body wants to fall as my pants did.

You're wasting time; get productive!

I turn on the light then pick up my phone from my desk. It reads 4:01. I had another hour before my alarm was going to blare. This has been typical. I don't intend on waking up so early. It just happens. And despite being exceptionally tired at night. I fall asleep before I want to and then wake up before necessary.

No complaining; you could be burning calories right now. Working towards your dream body. Becoming beautiful.

I select my Spotify app and start the timer.

On my pre laid-out yoga mat, I extend my frame. Repeatedly at each repetition. Each time my back hurts along the length of my spine. Maybe I should try —

No excuses. You want a model's physique, there are no cutting corners.