The first time he skipped a meal was a rainy day.

He sat on his usual seat in the corner of the cafeteria close to a window. He looked outside as the rain fell from the grey clouds covering the sky.

His whole body hurt. Every movement caused one of his bruises to feel like a needle was being jabbed into his body.

“Fat Jimin!  Fat Jimin!  Fat Jimin!”  Their laughs echoed in his memory. He swore that every time he thought about it he could feel the shot of pain of the other’s shoes kicking his stomach.

He wanted to puke.

Jimin stared at the cafeteria food. The hamburger and fries were untouched. Not even the apple was appealing anymore. Nothing having to do with food was appealing anymore.

Food had turned from his precious savior to his curse. He loved eating so much, but being beaten every day and being called fat was not worth the joy.

The bullying had increased. Everyday a he was the target of a new insult, and every day he came home with a new bruise. Of course, he never told his parents anymore, fearful that they would send him to “fat camp”.

He took the tray in his hands and walked over to the garbage can.

For the first time in 13 years Park Jimin skipped a meal.

I’m just not hungry today, he told himself, I’ll make up for it at dinner.

He repeated the same words to himself every day from that day on. He promised himself to make up for it later on the day and broke that promise everyday.

There was an odd feeling of satisfaction whenever Jimin threw away his meal. As if the action of rejecting food boosted his confidence.

Maybe if I lose weight they’ll stop hitting me. Maybe if I stop eating so much they won’t bully me. Maybe if I wasn’t so fat…

The thought settle in his mind.

Maybe if I wasn’t so fat…

Maybe if I wasn’t so fat…

Maybe if I wasn’t so fat…

Everything would be better if I wasn’t so fat…

The thought poisoned his mind.

~

“I’m not hungry today, mom. I’ve noticed,” Jimin sat on the dinner table while talking to his mother while she made dinner, “I don’t really get that hungry after a certain hour.”

 “What do you mean? Jimin you have to eat dinner, not child should ever go to bed with an empty stomach.” She stirred the pasta in the pot and continued pouring tomato sauce.

“I don’t know, it’s just that really, after eating in school I don’t really develop hunger afterwards.” Jimin dug his fingers into his palm, trying to keep calm and continue talking. “They give me a lot of food at school and when I get home I only eat dinner because I don’t want to throw it away. But I never really feel that hungry.”

His mother took the pot out of the fire, turned it off, and walked over to the kitchen table. She served the pasta on the plates.

“Are those kids bothering you again Jimin? You know you can just tell us and we’ll take care of it right? Your father and I want what is best for you.” She gave her son a sweet smile.

“Of course.” Jimin returned the smiled. “But I’m serious.” He looked down at the plate of pasta and moved it away from him. “I really don’t feel all that hungry when I get home.” 

“Now, now…” the woman put the pot down in the middle of the table and looked over at her son. “Don’t be like that Park Jimin, you have to eat your food and you know so. I don’t care if you’re not hungry, every kid should eat a nice meal before going to bed.” She took her fork and dug into the food.

This is useless, Jimin thought.

“Of course mother.” With hesitation Jimin took the fork in his hand and swirled the spaghetti around it. He brought the food to his mouth and smiled at his mother. That had been his first meal in the past 14 hours.

At night the guilt would settle in. The simplest amount of food, the simplest amount of satisfied feeling would trigger guilt.

I shouldn’t had eaten dinner, he thought, I should have found some kind of excuse, or some way to skip out of it.

Slowly he began losing weight, not too much yet, but the name-calling and the insults didn’t cease.

It wasn’t until a year later that he found out the perfect way to skip out of dinner.

I'm impatient...

I’m going to start every chapter with “The first time…” it sounds kind of cool.

I think my writing style has changed a bit from my past works…It’s more descriptive now, which I find slightly pretentious, but I like it?

This is called a child’s game because skipping is a children’s game. Get it? Like when little kids skip around trying not to touch the lines on the street floor…I need to stop.