Big fat stinkin' Annie. Round jiggling piggly Annie. Dirty farmin', never starvin' chubby chaser! Pillow girl, butterball, with her pudgy pie, that ugly ol' chubster Annie!

Annie stuffed two honey-glazed donuts into her mouth. The hard icing crumbled on her lips as she chewed, showing off her treat to everyone. You'd think she hadn't eaten in days. It was a dewy morning. Annie looked at the sky through her small kitchen window. It was bright blue, like Jell-O. The sun shone like Sunny D, lighting up the crops and animals on her family farm.

It's been four hours and twenty-seven minutes since her last meal, and that's far too long for Annie.

Her body was on a schedule. She'd have breakfast, then snack until lunch. After lunch, she'd enjoy more snacks to get her through supper. After supper, she'd dive into dessert to hold her until late-night munchies. This routine kept her fat and sassy until breakfast the next morning.

Her breakfast plate had variety. Four honey glazed donuts, five strips of crispy bacon, a bowl of eggs, and two sausage links. Annie's favorites.

Her mom always said she was gonna eat her out of house and home, farm and all. Annie's mom and pop weighed two hundred pounds together. They had scrawny arms and skinny legs.

Annie Farmer was three times the size for her age. Even though she was a biggin' that towered over the other kids, she was soft at heart.

The local children didn't see or care about who Annie was on the inside. They couldn't get past her weight and her wiggling chin, which only made her eat more.

They would tease her during the long, bumpy ride to school, in class, and on her trip home, showing no mercy.

It got to the point that Annie learned how to ignore them: the spitballs, the stares, and the snickering. Annie's mom would say kind things about her appearance. But Annie knew it was mom talk. That's what moooms do, right? Because of this, Annie felt her mom was mocking her, even if she had good intentions.

Theresa Farmer, Annie's mom, entered the kitchen. Annie sat at the table, her food spread out before her. Theresa bent down and kissed Annie on the forehead, right where her black bangs met her eyebrows.

"Mornin' dear," she said." I gotcha one of them short story collections you like from Missy's bookstore. They got a new haul, and you'll like this one."

Her mom gave a reassuring grin as she dropped the hard book onto the dinner table.

"It's called Night Readers somethin' or another. Missy said it's one of a kind and you'd be the only kid in town with it!" she chirped.

Annie swallowed the last sausage on her plate and picked the book up. Short stories in the world of horror, NIGHT READERS. Annie loved horror stories, movies, and games. She had nearly every horror book in the town bookstore. They took her to another world. She relied on them. The stories blocked out the taunts and disgusted looks.

"Thankshh Mom," Annie said, holding the book in her chubby hand.

"Ya' got to head on to the bus stop, Annie, before you miss it," her mom said, as she began to clear the table.

Annie shoved her new prize into her book bag and slung the load over her shoulder. Outside, she saw the bus screech to a stop at the curb. Kids from Hillington and Rainover Street began to pile on.

"Crud!" Annie shouted.

She battled her weight, wobbling as fast as possible toward the bus doors. She wanted to reach them before Mrs. Cline drove off again.

Big fat stinkin' Annie. Round jiggling piggly Annie. Dirty farmin', never starvin' chubby chaser! Pillow girl, butterball, with her pudgy pie, that ugly ol' chubster Annie!

She could hear the other kids now. Billy Leonardi and Jake Stuggert barked out of the window of the big yellow bus.

"Move your lard ass!" Billy shouted.

"The ground is shakin'!" Jake yelled.

All the kids roared with laughter; Annie's ears and cheeks burned red.

Just as the last kid climbed the steps and the door began to close, Annie stuck her big hand in the crack to stop it.

Mrs. Cline let out a breath of annoyance and pulled the door open to let Annie in.

"Mornin' Mrs. Cline," Annie smiled as she greeted the driver.

"Take your seat," Mrs. Cline snapped.

Annie knew she shouldn't sit by the other kids. She wouldn't fit. Besides, they had their feet or books piled up next to them.

Lucky for Annie, she didn't need to worry about finding a seat. The bus driver gave her a spot at the back, all to herself. It wasn't that Mrs. Cline liked Annie; it was because of what happened last time. When Annie sat with a younger boy, the bus took a sharp turn. Annie's body slammed into the boy next to her, mashing him against the window like a bug. This sparked a nosebleed for the other student and an uproar from everyone else.

Since then, the parents demanded that Annie have her own seat on the bus so that no other kids would get hurt.

Annie didn't mind it; she liked having her own seat away from the cruel snot boxes of Hanover Middle School. As she walked to her seat, she huffed and snorted, trying to catch her breath. The struggle down the aisle didn't make it any easier.

Billy Leonardi stuck his size nines into the aisle, tripping Annie. She slammed down onto the walkway, getting stuck between the seats like a sandwich.

Ah.

Annie loved sandwiches. She craved a triple-stacked toasted turkey, ham, and cheese club right then. The kids on the bus raved, and Annie frowned. She hated those suckers, but still, she only rolled her eyes and brushed them off.

She pushed herself up off the floor and bopped into her seat. She took a few grounding breaths. Then, she pulled her backpack onto her lap and took out her Night Readers book.

Annie grinned from ear to ear, clutched the cover of the book, and flipped to the first story.