Sluuurp.

Annie sucked up the mac-and-cheese that was stuck to her plate. She sat in the Janitor's closet; a place she hid, where she ate her school lunch often. Some days she'd eat in the girl's bathroom, or she'd eat in the classroom, depends on the circumstance.

Annie hasn't eaten in the cafeteria since the third grade, and nobody seemed to realize she was missing, which was strange because when she was there, everyone noticed. They'd stare, and they'd whisper. Some would even yell their hate.

"Save food for the rest of us, chubster!"

"Annie is servin' fat rolls for lunch!"

"How did a pig get in here?"

Annie's lunch tray sat on top of her new book. She was finished with the first chapter, and the urge to read another was hard to ignore. Annie couldn't stop thinking about the pink slime, the bones cracking, or the organ-colored creature that creeped out of Syx's reflection.

Annie picked up her chocolate milk cartoon and swallowed it all in two gulps. When she crumpled up the container and tossed it toward the door of the closet, it flew open.

Two navy blue short pump heels stood in the doorway. The light glistened off of them. Annie's eyes flicked up towards the slim, panty hose covered legs, and on up to a scowling mouth, similar to a cat's butthole.

Annie knew that butthole mouth from anyone's.

Mrs. Ackerman.

"I should have known it was you, filthin up the janitorial closet," Mrs. Ackerman snipped.

Her eyes judged Annie up and down. The food hanging from her chin, her fingers covered in crumbs. Her round cheeks, and her belly hanging over her waistband as she sat crisscross apple sauce on the linoleum floor.

One of the navy-blue pumps slid forward, bringing Mrs. Ackerman closer to Annie.

"Are you proud of the way you are, Annie?"

Mrs. Ackerman looked down her nose at Annie, her brows pinching.

Annie's eyes dropped.

"This is disgusting, what does your parents have to say? I am sure no one in their right mind would condone this behavior. I've seen your parents. They are slim, healthy, and hardworking," she added.

Annie scooped up a spoonful of her sprinkle covered chocolate brownie and stuffed it in her mouth.

Mrs. Ackerman scowled and continued with her scolding.

Annie blocked out the words with her chomping. She watched Mrs. Ackerman's lips, and her crooked teeth as she spoke between slit, angry lips.

The more she talked, the more Annie chewed. The more Annie chewed; the angrier Mrs. Ackerman became.

She couldn't stand it. She couldn't watch Annie stuff her face any longer. Annie and her rolls, and her carelessness, made her skin crawl.

Mrs. Ackerman ripped away Annie's tray, and her twinkling heels seemed to wink at Annie as she turned away to leave.

"GivE iT BaCk!" Annie whined.

She rolled to her left side and pushed off the ground to stand up with a breath, a sweat, a grumble and a grunt.

Mrs. Ackerman stopped at the trash can in the hallway and emptied the tray into its mouth with a grin.

Annie stood in the hall, with her fists squeezed into tight balls of jelly.

She huffed. She felt an anger boiling up in her belly she'd felt many times but never caved to.

Why does Annie have to be the bigger person, and keep her mouth shut? Why does everyone walk all over Annie, when all Annie's ever done is enjoy a good roast beef, with soft potatoes, a nice sized BLT, or a batch of sugar cookies. Annie can't help that she has a low metabolism.

Without thinking much more about it, Annie screamed.

A roaring scream, that seemed to come straight from her belly.

"Annie Farmer, you stop that screamin' right now!" Mrs. Ackerman warned.

Annie ignored her fired up warnings.

She screamed louder, until she was red in the face, and losing the air in her lungs.

Mrs. Ackerman winced at the squeal, raced over to Annie and grabbed her by her ear. She pulled Annie to the office, gripping her ear tighter with each step. When she got there, the principal was already poking his meaty head out of his office door, his attention drawn toward the ruckus.

Mrs. Ackerman told the principle that Annie was being unruly, uncooperative, disrespectful, and that she'd been ditching lunch.

The principal of Hanover Middle School is a man made of bricks.

Mr. Cordell.

He had an outdated pointy mustache that he twirled while thinking, bushy brows, and a face of steel. When he talked, Annie listened. She didn't blink, and she kept her responses short.

"Well, Annie. My hands are tied," he said.

"You yelled at a teacher, skipped lunch, trashed the janitor's closet," he started. "Well-let me rephrase that, you didn't skip lunch. But you know-you left the cafeteria without permission," he added eyeing Annie's belly.

"That's two days suspension. Your mom is already in route, you need to shape up that attitude Annie. Are we clear on that?" he asked.

Annie stared at Mr. Cordell's mustache. The longer she looked, she began to notice it was lopsided. One side was cut down too far and it bothered Annie.

Annie smirked.

"What's funny Annie?" his voice boomed.

"Your mustache is crooked; did you do that hack job yourself?" Annie asked with a wild grin.

"Excuse me?" he asked.

"You heard me, you damn jar head. YOU'RE MUSTACHE IS CROOKED," Annie yelled.

Mrs. Ackerman stepped from somewhere behind Annie and grabbed her by the shoulder.

"You are out of line!" she yelled.

Annie snatched a gold and black pen off of Mr. Cordell's desk, labeled "United Stated Marine Corps," clicked it down, and pushed it into Mrs. Ackerman's eyeball.

She flailed like bird and her one eye looked into Annie's eyes, with terror.

"Annie?" Mr. Cordell called out, again.

"Are we clear on that?" he asked with raised brows.

Annie cleared her throat and banished the daydream of her ripping Mrs. Ackerman's eye out of socket.

"Yes-sir," she said.

"You are dismissed," he nodded her towards the door.

Annie turned and Mrs. Ackerman stood in her way, smiling, before stepping out of Annie's path.

Annie frowned.

She hated that witch.

When Annie got home, she was sent straight to her room, and she didn't get desert after supper. To get ready for bed, Annie took herself a long shower. Days like this, she almost wished she could fit in the bathtub.

When Annie was younger, and smaller, she'd take four baths in a day. Hot baths were comforting to Annie. Almost like the tub was hugging her in its warm embrace. Showers were starting to give her that same effect. The steam put Annie in a daze, and the heat soothed Annie, physically and mentally.

When the water turned cold, she got out. Annie wrapped a towel around herself like a burrito and stood in front of the bathroom mirror. She wiped her hand across the fogged reflection of herself, like a windshield wiper.

Annie had a pretty face, but nobody noticed.

She had big round hazel eyes, long dark eyelashes she didn't need mascara on, and plump rosy lips that a celebrity would die for. There were skinny girls with dog faces, but the majority of the time, they could still coast through life without being teased.

How does fat, make a person ugly? Who's to say what's ugly and what's not?

What did Annie do to deserve a life like this?

The mirror began to haze over again so Annie wiped the mirror with the side of her hand, bringing herself back into clear view.

She thought again about Syx, and the creepy short story she read earlier.

Annie tucked a sopping wet strand of hair behind her ear and gave herself a forced smile.

Pretty Annie. Beautiful Annie, That round chubby, chubster Annie, with the pretty smile.

As Annie turned to leave out of the bathroom, she heard what she thought to be a whisper.

"Mom?" she called out.

"Annie," It called again.

It wasn't her mom's voice, and it was coming from inside the bathroom with her.

A cold chill swept through the room behind Annie's back, making her tense up, sending bumps up her arms, and down her legs. The cold draft seemed to brush along Annie's arm, before it gripped Annie's elbow. Her arm was numb, and the coldness she felt in that one spot, was a cold she'd never felt before.

"An-nie," the whisper teased.

This time Annie could hear it clear, and she could tell exactly where it was coming from, even though it was impossible.

Right?

Annie inched over to her bathroom mirror. She looked back at herself, her eyes shining.

Annie watched as her reflection stepped closer.

"Let me in, Annie," it said.

Annie's towel dropped to the floor, hot pee ran down and between her legs, onto her feet, and puddled around her toes.

Annie couldn't believe it.

Annie stepped closer to the mirror, her rolls going their own direction with each step. She clutched her sink and leaned forward.

Her reflection leaned in with her.

Annie's smile creeped along her lips, until it stretched into a wide grin.