She left the window open tonight to shiver out the food she couldn't purge. Left herself available, vulnerable, laid her corpse out with her ribcage regalia on display-- all breathe in breathe out with the quickening pace of the heartbeats in her head-- for the walls, for the sky, for the gawkers and the pointers and the perverts to see, oh, to see how fat and disgusting and terrible she really, really was.
She pressed play.
"... you're wrong, you know."
"Yeah, I'm wrong, then. You say I'm wrong, so--"
"...it must be true."
Ghosted lips and scripted words. She'd listened to it enough times now to whisper the words by her failure of a heart.
Fast forward. Play.
"--nd it doesn't take a genius to figure out that nobody is good. Nobody. And anyone who thinks otherwise is a fucking fool."
"--who thinks otherwise is a fucking fool."
"-- is a fucking fool."
It was the truth and Riley knew it. Too well. Too, too well. So much s