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Joanna
Joanna by Jade Baird (14 yrs)
This story won 2nd prize in our SA Schools 2003 Gastronomy Competition. The judges commended Jade for "the courage she shows in addressing the subject matter she writes about and its dramatic denouement" and "for the social comment".
Everywhere I turned I saw food. Breathing heavily, I blindly pushed my way through the crowd. School kids murmured under their breath, but I took no notice, as all I could hear were the taunts and hurtful names people called me.
“Watch out everyone, here comes thunder thighs,” a cruel girl’s mocking voice echoed though my head. I finally found the girls toilets. Pushing open the cubicle door, I bent over and did the thing that was second nature to me now; I pushed my fingers down my throat and threw up my food. With taunts of school kids ringing in my ears, and the faces of bullies swimming before my eyes, I collapsed onto the gritty toilet floor.
Groggily, I sat up, not recognising where I was. With my vision swimming, I took in the bare clean white walls of the sick room, and the crisp clean bed sheets, before lying back on my pillow exhaustedly. A few minutes later, my friends trooped into the room looking anxious.
“What happened to you Joanna? You should have seen the teachers running around when they found you in the toilets,” said one of my friends worriedly. I kept silent, and gazed out the window.
Chloe, my best friend, said quietly, “Joanna, I was in the toilets when you were throwing up. I’m worried about you, this throwing up has been going for a couple of months now. Please just talk to someone about it.”
All of a sudden I saw red. My friends were meant to be comforting me, but instead Chloe just came to tease me about how fat I was, just like every other kid at this school.
“God, this is my body Chloe! Not yours! You can’t control what I eat! Stop it, you’re just trying to tease me about my weight like everyone else at this school,” I screamed banging my fists on the side of the bed. My friends, startled by my outburst, quickly started for the door. Just as Chloe was walking out, I picked up a vase of flowers and threw it at her retreating back. And with that, I fell into a restless sleep.
I don’t know how long I stayed in the sick room for, but Chloe told the school about my problem, and they decided I needed professional help, so I was moved to hospital. Everyday nurses tried to feed me, but I would always refuse. Everyday I grew more depressed and withdrawn. My friends soon gave up trying to visit me, because all I would do is sit in silence. The hospital was boring, the same wishy-washy white room everyday. One day, I decided I had had enough. As quietly as I could, I broke the glass and chose the sharpest piece.
‘Now food will never have control of me again,’ I thought as the glass came down.