Post by Cara-Jean Kitchi on Sept 23, 2012 8:21:21 GMT
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And who do you think you are
Running round leaving scars
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The cafeteria was pretty lively when Cara walked through the doors. She had never been one to enjoy crowds and because of this, she almost turned on her heel and walked back out again. Forcing herself to stand her ground, she made her feet walk forward. Part of healing was becoming a healthy weight, and the only way to do this was to eat.
Walking up to the counter, she closed her eyes as her stomach churned as her nose was assaulted with the smells of fried and greasy food. She clenched her fists as she felt her hands shake.
"What can I get you, dearie?" The woman behind the counter asked in a more than slightly bored tone.
Swallowing hard, the girl looked up at the chalk board that had a list of selections on it and, again, she wanted to turn around and leave. "Can I please have quarter of a cup of steamed broccoli, cauliflower and carrots, mixed measurement please, not quarter of a cup of each. With that can I please also have a grilled chicken breast."
With tray in hand, she collected her cutlery and surveyed the room until she spotted a table that was unoccupied. Walking over to the table, she sat down and just looked at the food that was on her plate.
Pushing the tray to the centre of the table, she picked up her back and pulled out her notebook and pencil case. Opening the notebook, she began to list down options of classes that she could take this year, aside the equestrian ones. She didn't know whether she wanted to throw herself into gymnastics, but she didn't know what to do instead as she wanted to keep her fitness levels ups, especially now that she was supposed to be gaining weight.
She put the book down and looked at the food. Slipping the book and case back into her bag, she pulled the plate toward her again, picked up the knife and fork and held them above the table - almost as though she were in a biology class and was preparing to dissect something. Sparing a piece of carrot, she popped it into her mouth before spitting it out into the napkin and sitting back in her chair just looking at the plate.- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Collecting your jar of hearts
And tearing love apart
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Word Count: 392
Tagged: Open
Notes: Poor Cara is struggling with her food.
Credit: Made by Daughter at caution 2.0.
Lyrics: Jar of Hearts by Christina Perri.