A/N: Back to Hara's POV

            I stayed cooped up in my room for the past three days and kept to myself. I didn’t want to talk to anyone, and every time Hyunseung tried to get to talk I just shoved him out of my room and closed the door. One of these days I really need to install a lock. I sat on my wheeled chair and spun in circles until I was dizzy. I hadn’t done even ten rounds before I felt like barfing, and I wasn’t sure if it was because how empty my stomach was or whether I just couldn’t take the fast motion of my chair spinning, but suddenly I felt like I should see my old friend the treadmill again. Without making even a sound, I left my room with the door closed tight behind me and stared down the hallway. Hyunseung was out with his girlfriend today so I went downstairs without caution. On my way to the basement door, something shiny caught my eye in the kitchen. I looked around me three times to make sure no one was here, and then headed over to the kitchen counter.

            Lying flat on the cutting board was a knife, dripping with cold water but otherwise, untouched. No particular thought was running through my head at the time, except that the knife looked fascinatingly sharp. I lifted it with my left hand and held it against the morning sunlight seeping through the blinds, waving it back and forth trying to reflect a rainbow on my wall. A sudden question popped up in my mind. Just how sharp was it? I held it still in front of my face, causing my eyes to go slightly cross-eyed and took a deep breath.

            “Hara, dear, what are you doing?” My mom’s voice called from the hallway to the kitchen. In less than a few seconds she was already across from me, staring at me with a frightened look. Her hands were held out as if she wanted to make me move, but her eyes showed fear that I would do something rash with the sharp knife in my hand. I suddenly blinked a few times and placed the knife back on the moist cutting board. Without a word, I scurried down to the basement.

            I sat leaning against the side of my treadmill, reflecting on what had just happened a few minutes ago. I remembered my mom’s horrified face, and the sharp blade that cut my vision in two. What was I thinking? Simple—absolutely nothing; and that was what frightened me. Trying to shake it off, I hopped onto my treadmill and pressed start. The Television was off, but I wasn’t in the mood to watch it anyway. As minutes passed, the speed accelerated until it was a full on jog. I felt my heart beating rapidly, my breaths becoming more and more uneven, and suddenly I wanted to hurl. My eyes were blinking almost as rapidly as my heart, and I felt my ankle twist strangely causing me to lose balance. My hand slapped the emergency stop button just before I tumbled onto the hard wood floor.

            “Hara? Hara!” My mom’s worried voice brought me back to reality. She sat beside me with a bowl of warm porridge, though she had low hopes in me actually eating any of it. Her eyes shot guilt into every inch of my body and I wanted to just cry and run away. I was her precious daughter, but somehow, something managed to turn me into this mess. There was a light blanket draped over me and I pulled it in closer to hide my face. It had been years since my mom had seen me cry, but I couldn’t suppress it. Underneath my cotton blanket, I cried my heart out in low whimpers. After a few sniffs, I could feel my mom her fingers through my hair, and then, I heard a strange and unfamiliar noise. I stopped my sniffling and whimpering long enough to realize that my mother was crying beside me too. She had no idea what was wrong with me, but she was crying. Reluctantly, I pulled the blanket down to uncover one eye, blurry from my own tears to see a shaky visage of my mom with her tear-stricken face.

            “What’s wrong, dear? Please tell me…” She pleaded desperately, still my head comfortingly. The warm bowl of porridge was cooling down beside her stool, and I pointed over to it, signaling for her to hand it to me. I sat upright and wiped the tears from my eyes as she handed me the warm bowl. My cold hands welcomed it as I kicked my blanket away and began to eat. The rice porridge was thick and plain, but the warmth pleased my throat quite well. Soon enough, I saw that I devoured every droplet left in the bowl and my mom took it back graciously, forcing out a weak smile. It had been countless weeks since she’d seen me clear a bowl or plate of anything.

            “Hara dear, why haven’t you been eating?” She finally asked the inevitable. With the dull taste of porridge still in my mouth, I reached over for a long embrace.

            “I’m sorry, mom. I’m so sorry!” I began to tear up again, and so did she, but this time it felt really comforting. I felt like I had hope.

            “For what, dear?” She was patting my back, helping the already easily digestible porridge to mix well in my stomach.

            “For holding a knife in front of you,” I reminded her with regret and then pulled away. Instead of getting disciplined like I had predicted, my mother had a loving smile adorned on her face.

            “It’s okay, but please… Promise me that whatever it is, you’ll be okay.”

            “Promise,” I weakly smiled back, trying to muster up my long lost will power that I knew I would need to overcome such a feat. Though I still wasn’t sure what was wrong with me, I knew that I, Goo Hara, would not lose to something like this without a fight. 

A/N: Yay two updates in one night. Next chapter will be the finale! Thank you to all my readers and commentors all this time and the patience you've given me (:! This chapter is a little short, but I think it's one of the most heartwarming. The knife fiasco in the kitchen was actually NOT mdae up. When my friend told me about what she did with the knife I could see ow shocked she was with herself, even though she had many days to calm down from that incident. I'm not saying that Anorexia causes sudden urges for violence, but more like irrational thought because of extreme hunger. Irrational thought can exist in many forms.