tromana: (w&g: Plot bunnies)
[personal profile] tromana
Title: Demons
Author: [livejournal.com profile] tromana
Rating: T
Characters: Cassie
Summary: Cassie and her demons. Again.
Disclaimer: I do not own Skins. Probably a good thing, considering.
Notes: Written for [livejournal.com profile] writeskins, prompt table D.

Demons

You’re fat. Fat, fat, fat. Why are you stopping here for? You know the type of food they serve here. It won’t do you any good.

I know. I know. But I need something. I need… I need a cheeseburger.

All that fat though! It’ll go straight to your thighs, straight to your stomach. And you know how hard it is to shift it again as soon as it hits there. As they say, a moment on the lips, a lifetime on the hips. Do you really want to be spending the rest of your life trying to get rid of it? What are you doing? I said don’t go in, really Cassie, you know better than this, how many times have I told you…

But it’s cold outside. I’m not wearing a jacket or anything. I just left the party and I’m shivering. Fuck it, why should I listen to you anyway? You never have anything positive to say. Besides, I’ve been here before and the staff are nice. They make me feel better. They make me… smile.

Don’t sit down, no don’t do that. They’re not that nice, really. They don’t care, they’re just doing their jobs. And not the menu, oh no, not the menu. You know it by heart anyway and you know that it’ll all kill you. It’s not as if they serve water here, is it?

They do, actually. And not eating will kill me too. That’s what the doctors say.

Doctors lie. They’re a bunch of hypochondriacs, the lot of them. It’s just they’re projecting their fears onto you, Cassie. They think you’re weak, easily influenced. None of them have spent the time to study the calorific intake of junk food, have they? They’re too busy; overworked and underpaid. Even they warn about the cholesterol that’ll be running through your veins if you eat something off this menu. That’s just a one-way ticket to hell. No man is worth that.

This isn’t about Sid. It’s because I want to eat. Food is good. It tastes nice. It makes me feel better. I won’t feel like I’m on the verge of collapsing. I…

You’re not convincing anyone, sunshine.

Yes I am. I’ve beaten you, I’m better. Why are you still haunting me like this? What have I done to deserve this? You’re just a stupid little demon, running inside my brain. And you’re not going to beat me. Because I am going to have my cheeseburger and I am going to enjoy it. Nothing you can say or do will stop me. Besides, the staff here deserve my support. They always look after me.

Only to get your money, Cassie. So, you’ve ordered, but they don’t care if you eat it or not. Either way, they still get their money. Unless… unless you pretend there’s a fault with it! It’s burnt, too cold. The bread’s stale. Or the chips are soggy. Something like that, anyway.

It isn’t even here yet! How can I complain about food I haven’t even tried?

You only have to look at it. See, the fat’s congealing on the side. And it can’t be cooked through; it’s already here and you’ve been sitting down for what? Five minutes? It’s probably riddled with bacteria. Salmonella, E. coli, some other kind of food poisoning. This place is a death-trap and you know it. It’s a wonder it hasn’t been closed down already, serving bullshit like that to unsuspecting customers.

Shut up, shut up, shut up. It’s fine. Anyway, I’ll start with a chip. Covered in tomato ketchup. Because one chip won’t hurt me, it won’t. Besides, I’m feeling woozy. I need the energy.

Yeah, you tell yourself that. You’re just deluded and believe that eating will bring Sid back to your side. But it’s too late. He’s fucking Michelle. There’s plenty of other fish in the sea. Girls too, have you ever considered that? Of course you have, but only briefly. Well why not try now? Instead of eating, anyway. Women’ll bring you a lot more happiness than a burger ever will. Same with guys too. Just fuck everyone in sight; sooner or later you’ll forget about Sidney fucking Jenkins.

Maybe I don’t want to forget about him. Maybe I just want to be normal. Be able to go to a restaurant and eat, guilt free. Enjoy food. It’s not a crime to eat, there aren’t going to be any policemen barging in to arrest me. I’ve done far worse than this already. And I… I… I can’t do this…

Yes, Cassie, that’s it, put it down. You didn’t want it anyway. Because you’re fat. No wonder Sid doesn’t want you, not when he could be with somebody as fucking gorgeous as Michelle. It’s like comparing chalk and cheese. And you, sweetheart, are the cheese.

end

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November 2011

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