chapter 2

The looks on our parent's faces were priceless when they arrived to pick us up. I still have to smile whenever I recall it. For once they left their 'Tiny Little' daughter to spent time with elders and seven weeks later they greet with a girl that could pass for a woman in the last day of her pregnancy. My belly was unbelievably round and when sitting it filled my lap nicely. It felt great.
I remember the way home was mostly silent, parents still speechless from the shock they suffered. Another shock still awaited them during our traditional family dinner. It was the first time I ate as much food as my dad did... I was holding back.

The next day I went shopping with my mom, after all I really hadn't anything that would deserve to be called fitting. It wasn't that easy to find clothes that would fit my... unique body type. It probably would have been easier to go to maternity store, but we find some nice stretchy things anyway. Hungry and tired we stopped at the food court and got lunch from a fast food. From numerous of them. Or to be exact, mom from one, I was slightly hungrier and visited a couple of them. When I pretty much inhaled what was enough for your average family and still wasn't fully satiated, mom realized we had a problem.

Fortunately for me she didn't act for a long time afterwards and remained in a denial for that time. That evening the rules to our daily family dinners changed. It became very important to eat as much food as you could in the shortest time possible, because I was fast, effective and shameless. I had no problem with eating from other people's plates if I couldn't get to more food otherwise. By any means necessary.

Days turned to weeks, weeks to months and before I knew it the end of another school year was here and I was excited to go to grandma for summer, more so than ever before. Overall it was a good year. Sure, my newly found weight got a huge response in school and every skinny asshole could bust his ass to come up with a new way to insult me. How sad they were when it only made me feel great! I was getting fatter in a blistering speed and I couldn't be more proud of it. Eventually everybody returned to calling me Tiny, even if it was with a solid dose of irony from now on.

As the pounds continued to pile on, more and more often happened that I would get stuck inside those puny little school desks. What kind of genius thought it would be good idea to put chair and desk together? Idiot! The school was... rather deaf to my complaints. Until one day when I had particularly large lunch. I, obviously, managed to get stuck once again. But this time no matter how much I wiggled and pushed, the desk refused to let go my flabby round belly, I couldn't get free. I got to tell you, it's pretty surreal experience to watch a janitor coming to you with a saw to cut you free... After that the school evidently couldn't ignore me any longer and got me a desk that wasn't fused together with the chair.

My gut was bigger. It grew, swell, expanded,... it doesn't really matter, whatever you want to call it. It was getting so big that even maternity stores were running out of options for 'Tiny Little' me. It still retained that unbelievably round shape, laying on my thighs heavily when it got the chance. Of course, the simple solution was to stop getting fatter. I mean I already weighted about as much as my dad, who was only like two feet taller than me... But why would I want to stop gaining? I didn't have a problem with my size. If I had I'd say I'm too small! It's a problem of those stupid stores that they can't make properly sized clothes!

Of course, my belly wasn't the only thing on my body that grew. My boobs ballooned from A-cups all the way into the mind blowing B-cups behemots... Ok, maybe it wasn't much of a deal, especially with my gargantuan middle right underneath them, but it was still a progress. My lower half on the other hand did get a solid portion of poundage, my bottom now spilling over the seat of most chairs.
I also grew another two inches that put me on the impressive height of 4'9'' that I kept to this very day.

As I grew in width it was getting more and more difficult to reach the table during our dinners. I was forced to sit sideways and use my gut as a table! Preposterous! So I had bit of a tummy, why does it had to mean I can't have a meal in peace?

Fortunately mom started to make more food so I could get everything my stomach craved long after everybody else left. At this time I think I was eating about twice as much as the rest of my family did combined in order to achieve that brilliant feeling of complete fullness. But I proceeded. As long as there was food, I wasn't finished. Why would I ever stop eating if there was more food to devour? It didn't make any sense to me...

If I recall correctly, I was about 300 pounds at the time we arrived to my granny's house. This summer I don't remember so well. I know there was plenty of food, most of it finding its end in my belly, but anything other than that... I recall the last night of it clearly though. I think of that night often actually. I think it was the most food I've demolished in one sitting. That year I mean. I singlehandedly devoured what was the equivalent of a Thanksgiving dinner in our family. And then some more. Afterwards I needed Marty's help to even stand up let alone walk. I noticed how he was looking at me. He was in awe.

When my parents arrived the next day, they found their daughter in a pitiful state. The clothes I was wearing simply didn't have enough material in them to cover every inch of my body and still bloated from the feast before I struggled to fit in the car. Sadly, this was the time when my mom stepped into action and it were the worst two months of my life.

She decided that what I was doing to myself was unhealthy and dangerous and that she won't help me to eat my way to an early grave. She came with a solution that might not seem as harsh, but for me, it was a punishment beyond measures. At the dinner I wouldn't be allowed more food than what my dad would have. Only three days a year she would allow me to eat to my heart's content. Thanksgiving, Christmas and my Birthday.

My poor dad! Every dinner he would eat as much as he possibly could. He even cheated by hiding some food from his plate, when mom wasn't looking, in order to let me eat more, but it still wasn't enough. Every night he suffered because of aching stomach and I suffered from insufficiently filled one. Even Marty tried to help me, constantly smuggling food for me.

I developed a certain daily routine during those days. I spent as much time in the school cafeteria as I could before they kicked me out. Then I bought as much fast food as I could afford. All the money I have saved throughout the years, alongside with the money dad secretly slipped me, were slowly disappearing in a desperate attempt to sooth my hunger. Finally after arriving home I cleaned the house of anything edible.

For two months I was surviving like this. It was the longest time in a while that I got through without gaining any weight. November came with a promise of better times as it started with my birthday. Be assured that I needed my dad's help to leave the dinner table that night.