This is a thread of stories. Each story was written in continuation of the previous story, to make a (hopefully) cohesive narrative.

My feet ached, but it was well worth it. I absolutely HAD to make the weight requirment for my dance competition. I only had three more days to lose another five pounds. My legs burned, but I suppose that I should have expected that much after a three hour run, but I thought that I could do it effortlessly by now. After being in dance for five years, I've had to really push myself to stay within my weight limit. Sometimes it was really hard to keep from eating. I knew that if I couldn't make weight, the uniform wouldn't look right. And I would DIE if I looked... fat.
After I had finished my run, I got home and went immediately to the bathroom. I felt light-headed as I leaned over the toilet and thrust a finger down my throat. I slowly stood up and examined myself in the mirror as I stepped onto the scale. 100 pounds. I wasn't sure if I could lose five pounds in three days. Never mind if I was sure. I HAD to be skinny.

In the scheme of things, it wasn't a permanent state I was after. Just long enough to get on stage, dance for two minutes and fifteen seconds, and get off.

Five pounds, what did that even look like. I dragged the scale into the kitchen and got out a can of beans. 1.3 lbs. A gallon of milk. 8.33lbs. Two boxes of fish sticks didn't even move the needle. A giant bag of shrimp. I mean, GIANT. Boom. Five pounds.

I needed to shed a GIANT bag of shrimp in a matter of days. I eyed the shrimp, their gray bodies and clenched legs. Their unicorn horn pointing forward, framed by black beads.

I couldn't believe how delicious they looked. Days of fasting and I was about ready to eat those frozen shrimp like potato chips. I stared lustily. I salivated. I blinked.

A shrimp blinked back.


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