chapter 3

You observe yourself in the mirror. You had to buy some new clothes again - you've figured out to go to the thrift store now, at least. You're still getting bigger. You squeeze a roll on your stomach, and suddenly you feel turned on. What the hell is wrong with you? What is your mother going to say? You turn sideways. Your boobs are clearly bigger - not to speak of your ass which now sticks out behind you, something that just didn't happen before. But the most noticeable change is your belly, which looks like you're a few months pregnant. You step on the scale, clothes on. It doesn't really matter at this point whether you take them off. 171. That's a 60 pound gain in a little over 4 months. For some strange reaon it doesn't horrify you. On the contrary, you feel hungry. While you snack on some M&Ms, you order a pizza.

---

"Oh my god honey, what happened to you?" Your mother looks you over with a shocked expression on her face. "You're ballooning! What have you been eating?!"
Not knowing what to reply, you simply stare at the ground in response. Your mother stares at you for a few moments and then starts talking about some great aunt who is apparently ill. She surveys your room while doing so, frowning at the empty wrappers and boxes everywhere. After she's done inspecting, you get in the car and leave for the holidays.

"This is MacDonalds, what is your order?"
"I want a large fries, a large banana milkshake, and two big tasty bacons please. Oh, and chicken wings."
Your mother looks at you in shock while you order. You're a bit embarassed - this is a small meal for you - but you're hungry like you've never been before. And you find yourself weirdly proud of being able to eat this much.
"Honey, you need to eat healthier! Look at how much weight you've gained!"
Years of repressed teenage angst directed at your mother come bursting out at her and her endless nagging.
"What if I want to gain weight."
"What?"
"I said: what if I want to gain weight? I'm happy. I like how I look. And I don't care what you think."
Your mother protests for a bit but then stops bringing it up, and is silent for the rest of the ride home while you defiantly stuff yourself with fastfood.

---

When you get home, your father awaits you in the living room. He hugs you, and while his eyes become larger for a moment when he notices your gain, he doesn't bring it up. Instead you talk about how college has been going, and while you do fudge the truth a little, you're letting it shimmer through you are not doing too well. He doesn't seem dissapointed, instead he starts talking about he was in trouble when he was on his own for the first time and there was this counselor that helped him get back on track. You love him, but you find yourself dozing off a bit during the story, and you start dreaming about food.

---

Christmas dinner has always been a glorious occassion in your family. Everyone who comes brings food, and you always end up with way too much. It's a long tradition to fight over who has to take the leftovers and eventually leave them at the host's place. Your aunt has taken care of appetizers - olives, a cheese plate, and some baguettes with various toppings. The term appetizers is apparently quite litteral, as they increase your hunger rather than still it.

The first course of the main meal is, naturally, a stuffed turkey. On the side you take cheese fries, roasted mushrooms, and a few slices of cheese - garlic bread. Over the two legs of turkey you claimed while everyone at the table looked at you, you scoop a good few servings of sauce. Then you dig in.

By the time you've finished your first course your belly is beginning to bloat a bit, and it's starting to press against the fabric of the dress you're wearing. But you're not full yet. Not by a long shot. You've decided to see just how much you can eat, just for the hell of it. Let yoursellf have some fun. It's the holidays, you can get back to losing weight after.

It fills you with a childlike glee to see the second course served. Grilled salmon, fried chicken, roasted potatoes, spaghetti, and asparagus in butter sauce. Most of your relatives are already full, leaving more for you, and you happily pile on your plate. You even take a second helping, while everyone pretends not to notice. Strangely you find it kind of turns you on to pig out in front of everyone like this, everyone thinking what a fat lazy slob you're becoming.

The desert is glorious. There is a white chocolate mousse, a whipped cream pie, an ice cake, and tiramisu. Although your belly is starting to rest very heavy in your lap, you come up with the excuse you at least have to try everything, and again you take a generous serving. When you're done stuffing your face you sit back, rubbing your belly. One of your uncles makes a joke about being full, while his wife stares daggers at him.