Ana & Mia go to school

Ana and Mia got up at 7:30 to get ready to go to school. They washed off yesterday’s makeup, the tired reflections of a darkened room gazing back from behind them in the mirror. The sound of Manic street preachers, "4st 7 lbs" filled the room. The walls of the bathroom were completely covered in posters of emo bands and obscure lyrics. Recycled post it notes, scattered everywhere, creating a collage of starvation with messages of encouragement like "nothing tastes as good as thin feels" and "food hinders your progress".

The sudden sound of running water startled Ana, as he and his sister began to brush their teeth carefully, making sure they didn’t catch their toothbrushes on their lip piercings. The water gushed around the black marble sink, round and round, until it finally disappeared down the plug hole with a satisfying gulch.

Retreating to her bedroom Mia pulled on the black jeans she had worn yesterday. Despite her emaciated frame, they clung to her body, her bones clearly defined through the worn material. Ana was already dressed. Clad in the black jeans he stole from Mia last week, he began to pull on his green converse boots, as he was feeling particularly envious of Mia’s new hair cut, while his sister opted for her red ones, after all, she wanted to co ordinate her shoes with her shirt and her wrists. As she laced them up, she glanced down at her scarred knuckles: "That’s what I get for purging so much…why do I have to be so fat…?"

Almost robotically, Mia approached the large floor length mirror. Staring disgruntled at her reflection, she pulled and pinched at any fragment of skin that protruded. Her faint skin desperately hung to the bones beneath. Her green eyes were hidden beneath a mass of ebony bangs, cascading over her face. Cheek bones, chiseled and aware, peeked through slightly more than yesterday. "One step closer" Mia thought.

Ana was poised poignantly on the bathroom counter. He brushed his long black fringe over his left eye, taking great care not to smudge his freshly applied eye liner. His hand slipped, searing a line of black across his face, as Mia began to scream.

"I just can’t take this anymore! My life is spiraling downward into a blackened abyss of nothingness!" Mia paused taking a deep breath, closing her eyes for a moment before: "No one knows the pain I wade in everyday of my sullen, dreary life. I feel utterly alone in this contemptible justification of a world…no one gets me" She spat, slamming the heavy oak door and slumping to the floor, the posters on the wall fluttering as a slight breeze hit them. A single green post it note fell in her lap.

She read it aloud, make up tears streaming down her face, "An imperfect body reflects an imperfect person. SEE! Even the post it agrees!" Her face twisted in frustration, she crumpled it in her hands, turning her scarred knuckles white as if somehow it would make her feel better.

Her brother was not shocked by this outburst. Just angry.

"You think you got it bad?! Do ya? DO YA?! I’m grounded for a week! I ONLY BORROWED MOMS MASCARA!" Ana yelled, just as loudly, slamming his comb onto the counter. "Don’t you remember what’s happening on Friday? HUH?" He breathed in and out heavily as his eyes filled with tears, but he forced them back, not wanting his make up to run. Mia stood staring at him, smirking slightly, yet her eyes appeared innocent behind her thick rimmed black glasses. Of course she knew what was happening on Friday. She wouldn’t show it though. Why should she when this would be a perfect opportunity to infuriate her brother?

Instead, she proceeded back into her room, flinging open her wardrobe doors. She raised a single finger to her chin, appearing lost in thought, acting as if nothing had happened. Ana was enraged. Instead she proceeded to her room, starving her brother of the attention he craved so much. Placidly, she opened up her wardrobe doors, a great mass of varying colors and styles staring back at her. The choice was unbelievable, and slightly overwhelming. With thousands of T-shirts crammed into such a small space, picking one was not going to be easy. She decided on a color first: Black. "Black to reflect the evil influences that demoralize civilization." She thought, smiling to herself. Ah. One problem. She had hundreds of black t-shirts. And sweaters, and cardigans, and corsets, and vest tops. How could she possibly choose one?

He sped into Mia’s room, stopping a few inches away from her face. "Stop mocking me! I have to go to that concert on Friday! This is the only chance I’ll have of seeing My chemical romance for a whole year! Cant you understand that?!" He shrieked, gripping the wardrobe door, as if it offered him some support. Mia continued, seemingly oblivious to her brother. Ana stamped his foot defiantly, his eyeliner tears blending into his ivory complexion, creating a chess board of emotion.

Ana folded his arms abruptly, pouting like a sulking five year old. His eyes twitched as he caught a glance of himself in his sister’s floor-length mirror. He instantly forgot what they had been arguing about and began to check out his six stone physique.

Mia eyed him conspicuously; disappointed their spat had ended so quickly. Her mind raced as she felt a surge of jealousy towards her brother. "maybe I should give up on the bulimia…you lose weight so much quicker with anorexia…" she pondered, still observing her brothers frail frame."But he thinks I don’t know about his chocolate stash…he’s such a poseur! I know he’s not bisexual, even if he did make out with those three guys the other weekend…" Her thoughts were interrupted by Ana moaning about his hunger pangs.

"Why don’t you have some toast then…?" Mia muttered, far too abruptly, it almost sounded like an insult. Ana glared, shocked by his sisters tactlessness.

"Because food is for quitters! And that is the difference between you and me Mia baby." Ana sneered, his lip curling at one side, his eyes squinting slightly, looking at his sister, down and up. "One day I will be skinny enough. Just the bones. No disfiguring flesh, just the pure clean shape of me." he began to nod, clearly satisfied with his explanation. "Everything else is just storage…waste. So I’m gonna strip it all away." He could see he had gotten through to his sister, but he was still hungry.

" I…" Mia began.

"Are you kids arguing again?" Came the stern voice from the corridor. It didn’t wait for an answer. Ana and Mia shared a secret glance, rolling their eyes before turning away, just as their Mother came through the door.

"Its almost 8:15 and you haven’t even had any breakfast yet! The bus will be here in half an hour." She said in disbelief. Dressed in a bright pink dressing gown and fluffy purple slippers, she stood out like a sore thumb against the back drop of black wallpaper and ripped posters. Her long blond hair tumbled onto her shoulders, perfectly styled. She looked more like their younger sister than mother. Ana swiveled on his heel pretending not to hear her, still observing himself proudly in the mirror, the way you do when you get a new haircut, admiring himself from every skeletal angle.

"Oh nooo! How silly of me! You guys are still doing the whole "I’m a tortured emo therefore I must have an eating disorder" thing." She said, light and airy, with distinct sarcasm. Her children turned and stared at her, stunned by her bluntness.

"No Mom! Were not starving ourselves…we’re just…perfecting our emptiness. ‘Kay? Now will you drop it?" Ana replied defensively. Mia slumped onto her bed, the crimson sheets barely moving under her weight-less figure. She grabbed Kerrang! magazine, desperate to distract herself from the inevitable argument.

"Hello! don’t you know anything? If your emo, and you say your emo, then your no emo at all. Your scene. And if your scene and you say that your not emo then technically you must be emo. Okay?" Ana recited, as if it was the simplest thing in the world, picking up his comb and reclaiming his place at the mirror.

"Huh?. Whatever. Look just this once, do me a favor and have breakfast. Your not going to put on any weight off a slice of toast now are you?" Mom smiled, desperately trying to convince her children, looking from one to the other.

But Mia had had enough. She got up and ran out of the room.

"YOU JUST DON’T GET IT DO YOU! Getting fat is the worst thing ever. Worse than losing your job, worse than being left at the altar, worse than living in a trailer park and growing up without shoes!" Ana screamed. He paused taking in rapid sharp breaths, as if he were about to give birth.

Mia hurried downstairs, breathing deeply, trying to sort herself out. She gently closed the heavy kitchen door, leaning against it and letting a satisfied sigh escape her lips, her cheek pressed against the cold oak.

Gliding slowly across the room she shielded her eyes from the morning light that came flooding through the window, until she finally settled with her back to it. A few moments later, two char grilled slices of toast popped out of the toaster.

Mia really wished her brother wouldn’t burn his essays in the toaster: they both knew it wasn’t rebellion, an action of non conformity, or one step towards a future of anarchy. Just a way for him to vent his boredom and make him think he was hardcore. Anyway, he could at least turn the temperature back down when he had finished.

As she sunk her teeth into the blackened toast, Ana fluttered through the door singing Garbage "Bleed like me". He paced dramatically as he got to the bass line before stopping, mid mosh, as he saw the toast at Mia’s lips.

"Mia, like, babe! How many times do I have to tell you?! A moment on the lips a lifetime on the hips!" He said in that matter-of-fact way he did every time he caught her eating. Mia often wondered where he got the inspiration for his "thinspiration" but she decided not to ask, she didn’t want him having two hissy fits in one morning. So instead, she hit back.

"This" She said shaking the toast, millimeters from his face, her face gathering what little color it could muster, " Is not just toast. It’s black, ebony, beautifully disfigured in everyway. Just like my soul. It’s trapped behind this mask of impurity and disgrace, rejected by today’s aesthetically orientated society. But does anyone ever THINK how the burned toast feels, when its thrown into the trash can!? I don’t think so." Mia blurted, not quite believing she could have ever came out with something so…so unlike her.

She could tell Ana felt the same way by the dumbstruck look on his face.

Mia’s eyes shifted nervously around the kitchen. She could see her reflection staring back at her darkly from the cold black tiles that crawled up the walls. She noticed Ana pick up her toast and take a tiny nibble out of one corner, before dropping it like it had sent a thousand volts through him. Mia really had lost weight, in fact her weight was gaunt. That made her smile.

"Damn!" Mia spat, breaking the icy silence.

"Sup sis?" Ana had obviously discarded Mia’s soul burning toast as his face was back to its usual mystified expression.

"I got a date with the delusional retard today." She was talking about the school nurse, who had picked up on her bulimia a long time ago and insisted upon regular appointments with Mia.

"Well technically, she’s not delusional babe…you do have bulimia, she’s just interfering. The whore. She should be supporting you in your fight for perfection!" He said, almost patriotically.

Ana really did take the whole eating disorder thing too far sometimes, but after Mia thought about what he had said, she realized he was sort of right.

"Well, she’s still a retard!" She said darkly, feeling slightly defeated. "You should have heard her last week! She was all like you’re already skinny, why do you want to lose weight, guys don’t like skinny girls! Can you believe how patronizing she is?" Mia yelled, furrowing her brow. Ana just rolled his eyes, as Mia balanced her head on her shaky hands. She opened her mouth as if to say something before reconsidering. Then she did it again. Before:
"OhmyGawd you are never gonna believe this one!" She said, grinning from ear to ear. "She said it’s not all about looks, and that inner beauty counts too. So I gave her this Jeezuz you have 3 heads look and said but inner beauty is for fat people!" She beamed, clearly proud of herself. Her brother laughed, motioning for a high five.

A few minutes later, the screech of wheels came blaring through the window; the school bus had arrived. The siblings gave each other a nervous smile, before standing up and walking into the corridor in unison. Their pale skin practically blended with the white washed walls. if it wasn’t for the masses of dark eyeliner engulfing their eyes, and their blood red lips, they would have almost been invisible. Mia grabbed her "suffocate me dry" hoody, gently pulling it over her head, desperate not to spoil her perfectly styled hair.

It was still dark outside, and the rain was crashing down from the ferocious clouds smearing the sky with color.

As they reached the doors of the dirty yellow school bus, Ana placed his foot on the glass pane, pushing hard to open the door. They climbed aboard, turning their eyes over each and every passenger. A deathly hush fell over the bus. Everyone stared. No one spoke. The only sound was the rain fizzing rhythmically against the windows, fracturing the dazzle of the street lights.

The driver was wearing a blue shirt, large pools of sweat clearly visible beneath his dinner lady arms. He gawked at Ana and Mia, his jaw dropping, adding to his double chin. He looked as if he had just gotten out of bed and combed what little hair he had left hastily across his head. Mia looked on in disgust. If there were two things in the world she hated, they were lack of hygiene and obesity. Not necessarily in that order.

Ana gave the driver a pitying glance, before grabbing Mia’s hand before she had a chance to give him a piece of her mind. Sauntering up the aisle, avoiding the other passengers’ eyes. They slid into the only two remaining seats on the bus.

Mia sat next to the window, staring at her reflection: Her ebony hair cascaded over skeletal shoulders, her mendacious green eyes hid behind her black, thick rimmed glasses. She knew she was ill. Her reflection glared back at her scornfully. But a weak smile was all she could manage, her apology for killing herself from the inside out.

The rain grew steadily stronger, bouncing off the tarmac, forming black lakes in the road. The sound of it beating against the window blared so loud it hurt Ana’s ears. He groaned loudly, grabbing his worn black school bag off the chewing gum splattered floor. Retrieving his iPod, he thrust the head phones into his ears, sighing loudly and sinking back into the tattered seat as the music began to boom.

Not wanting to be left with nothing to do, Mia pressed her face against the steamy glass. Pulling her sleeve across her hands, she swiftly wiped the condensation off the window. The trees whipped back and forth outside, as the wind charged through their leaves, reducing the branches until they were almost bare. Mia wished she could be out there. The wind whipping her back and forth, reducing her. Until she was swept away, becoming pure wind.

The bus journey passed by in a flurry of blaring music and suppressed thoughts, and before they knew it, Ana and Mia had arrived at school. They sat impatiently, waiting until the bus was completely empty. They weren’t on the same level as the other kids, so why should they walk into school with them?

Strolling out a few minutes later, Ana clenched Mia’s shaking hands in his. A single squeeze communicated the unspoken words they both needed. Pushing open the battered doors of the large grey building, Mia took a deep breath.

The racket erupted like an overflowing volcano, smothering them both in its ear-splitting noise. Ana used his free and to sculpt his spiked hair assertively. Mia frowned in spite of herself. She could remember when Ana was "normal". Whatever that means these days. Then the pressure of an aesthetically pleasing society got to him. Having your self esteem beaten into the ground wasn’t exactly the easiest thing to handle.

Even something as simple as walking down the corridor became a show for the siblings. Everyone stopped and stared. Those who dared laughed, those who didn’t hid behind their locker doors. Ana and Mia were like the fruit loops in a world filled with cheerios. Destined to stand out, doomed to be ridiculed for it.

As they approached class 15, their form, they shared one of their secret glances. They didn’t need words to know exactly what the other was thinking. Mia stretched out a wary hand, pressing it against the frosted glass window. She gave her brother an encouraging smile. He grasped her hand that little bit tighter. Then they did it. Took the final step. Into the dreaded, feared, unknown; The high school classroom.