Eve-n Bigger

Chapter 1

Note to reader.

This story is written from a shifting point of view. The change will be indicated by the name of the character in a separate paragraph containing the POV character's name and nothing else, like so


Eve


My name is Evelyn, people call me Eve for short. I am 5’9” and have long, straight black hair, and brown eyes. I weigh 118 lbs. Well, I weighed that at the time this all started. It probably isn’t even close to accurate anymore. See, I have been fighting with my weight for years. I would start a diet, lose five pounds, gain it back, and get on the hunt for a new diet, then I would start the cycle anew. Well, at least that is what happened until I tried something different. I had tried a thousand gimmicks before deciding to just bite the bullet and count calories while going to the gym regularly. No more Yo-Yos, I was strict, I was disciplined, I followed my regimen to a T. Every day I had well under the number of calories suggested to keep my weight unchanged, and I would exercise on top of that. I suffered the whole time, but I Iost weight. The whole time I had an odd sense of guilt, like I was somehow doing something wrong, but I ignored it.

It was like a miracle. The diet went so well for the longest time. I watched the number on the scale drop from 160 to 140 to 120 to 106, before it reversed and started going up again. I panicked about it for a while. Until my roommate Patty told me that it was probably because I was up late eating so often recently. She’s full of it, I bet Patty is doing that herself. Yeah, she must be projecting since she’s been gaining so much lately too, you can tell at a glance it’s been so obvious. Patty wasn't exactly skinny to begin with either, I’d peg her at somewhere near three hundred and fifty pounds now that she’s been gaining weight again, and no wonder as to why, she’s snacking every time I see her, the woman is keeping the grocery store in business with her bonbon habit I swear. I gave her an evasive answer and went on my way. After all, I haven’t gotten up late to eat even once that I knew of. Until everything changed one fateful night at about midnight.

I had gone to sleep after another day of following my diet perfectly. I would lose that weight again! I had worked so fucking hard to get rid of it. I would not accept one pound being back again. After falling asleep I had a dream. I don’t recall most of it, just that I was eating something. Until the dream ended and I suddenly found myself standing in front of an open fridge in my kitchen. As the cold light of the fridge poured out onto me. I looked down to see my striped pajamas and bare feet, over the white tile floor. Worst of all, I had a handful of lunch meat in my clenched fist. There were bite marks in it too, not like I had been eating slices, no. Like I had had just grabbed the whole stack of slices and taken a big bite of it. I continued eating the lunch meat on autopilot for longer than I’d care to admit before I could seize control of what was happening and force myself to stop. I had always spent a moment only half awake before coming to entirely. When I woke up a bit more I grumbled “What’s going on. How the hell did I get here?” angrily. As I put the stack of half eaten slices of turkey down.

When I fully came to my senses, I looked at the food and realized something. This must be what Patty was talking about, I must have been eating at night without even noticing it. I bet Patty didn’t talk about it more because she was trying to be polite and thought it was my dirty little secret or something. I felt my stomach rumbling. “Really?” I asked, looking down at my belly, “That’s like, half a packet of Turkey and you’re still grumbling?” I shouted incredulously at my own stomach before tossing the half eaten slices of Turkey into the trash and putting the bits still untouched into the fridge. I slammed the fridge door shut and stomped off to my room to go back to sleep.

But I didn’t sleep, not much anyway. I looked up at the ceiling wondering about what had happened for hours. I was sleepwalking it seemed, and eating while I was doing it to boot. I didn’t even know I sleep walked normally, let alone sleep ate. What the hell is going on and how do I make it stop? The first thing to come to mind was some old horror flic I had seen where a guy found out he was a werewolf and would chain himself up before going to sleep on nights of the full moon so he wouldn’t kill his neighbors. I shook my head, “No, that’s absurd. Maybe a fridge lock at most. I didn't need anything crazy like chaining myself up.” I tried to go back to sleep and couldn’t do it for God knows how long.

Eventually I found myself staring at my alarm clock, it was already 4:45. My regular schedule was to get up at five to go running, so no point in trying to sleep now. How would I handle this I wondered. I got up and went to the kitchen to get breakfast, an apple and nothing more. This had been a regular breakfast for me since I started counting calories, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to have more now. Pat was still asleep, I never saw her in the morning anymore, not since I started waking up early to run. Of course not, the lazy bones would sleep in and then have a few bowls of sugary cereal before getting to a day of sedentary work on computers, same as always. I yawned at least four times as I ate my apple, then once more when I had finished it. "You know what? Forget it,” I mumbled, half asleep “I’m too tired to run." I shook my head before saying “No, that kind of talk is how you get as pat as fatty," I shook med head, "I mean as fat as Patty.” I thought of myself at Patty’s size and stuck out my tongue before continuing, “If anything I should exorcize more after last night.” I headed out the door to go on a quick run before work.

God knows I needed the run before work. As an editor for a publishing house I didn’t exactly burn a lot of calories on the job. Regardless, it was difficult, every step felt like I had lead for legs and I was still yawning constantly. I had to constantly imagine being as fat as Patty to motivate myself to keep going. She doesn’t run and she’s the size of a whale for it. I would be different, I would be better.

After my run was finally over I went straight to work. I went up to my office and opened the computer to see what was quite possibly the worst piece of writing I had ever encountered. I kept yawning as I read, I was in a rotten mood already. Worst of all the book I was editing was a sad attempt at a romantic novel. “And her boobs bobbled boobily?” I read incredulously. This was obviously written by a man, or maybe a boy. “A teenage boy as writer would explain a lot here.” I said with a chuckle as I read on. Every time the leading lady of the story did anything it would reference her breasts, or worse, something below the belt. She went jogging and her chest bounced with each step, she bumped her ‘Bouncing bosom’ on every object she interacted with, I tried reading aloud to focus, then ran into “Her womanhood was dripping with feminine juices as she. . .” I couldn’t even finish reading this drivel out loud. I ended up sending in a short message to my boss that read “Normally my first step in the editing process is to skim through the work and erase only what is completely unsalvagable before editing what remains. If I were to do this here I would return a blank sheet of paper.” I sent the message with a sneer. I would normally never do such a thing. It was as lazy as it was cruel, but I was half asleep, and dear God this book was bad.

After that my day went normally except that I was plagued by my constant yawns against my will. After work I went home and scheduled an appointment with my doctor to ask about my sleep eating event. Thankfully there was a time slot open that very evening. It seems someone had a last minute cancelation and I was able to get their spot. Yay!

I walked into the office of doctor Richard Wentworth, my GP, and went straight to the doctor's room. The magazine in his room read “The Obesity epidemic and its one surprising upside.” Along with several articles on various diets. I didn’t bother reading it as I waited for the doctor. When Doctor Wentworth came in I told him what had happened last night, he responded with “Interesting, you’ve been losing a lot of weight lately too. Any new diets?” I answered “Nothing special, just being strict with counting calories.” The doctor said “My understanding of sleep eating is this. It is generally experienced by people who have had a serious reduction in caloric intake, theoretically it is caused by the body attempting to avoid starvation, that and various psychological matters which are not my specialty. It often stops on its own when the person’s life and food intake normalize. It can also be caused by certain drugs. Are you taking any?” I sighed deeply, shaking my head, and said “So, you’re saying I’ll keep doing his till I hit my old weight?” the doctor said “Not necessarily, more until your weight stops changing.” The rest of the appointment was uneventful. As I went down some stairs on my way out my breasts bounced a bit and I had to laugh. My boobs bobbled, boobily. Who would have knew?

When I got home I went to my room and found the caloric intake chart that I had printed for my diet. The chart covered a range from dangerously low to dangerously high, with a mark near the middle for the number of calories that would neither cause me to gain or lose weight. There was a secondary chart that covered how exercise effected the matter. “Well,” I said to myself, “according to this, if I have sixteen hundred calories a day I should maintain my current weight.” Then shrugged as I said “Fine by me, I’ve lost enough already anyway, I just don’t want to gain it back.” So, I followed the chart and had sixteen hundred calories that day, disregarding what I had sleep eaten entirely.

That night I went to bed feeling full for the first time in months. Okay, not like, FULL full, but not starving for once. Despite this, I woke up eating in the kitchen, again. This time I was sitting at the counter, where Patty had put some muffins it seems. I’m not entirely sure because I woke up sitting on a barstool, staring at an empty little wrapper thing. What? You expect me to know the names of things? Nah, I look up enough definitions at work. I went to bed saying “Okay, body has to get used to it, I’ll probably have to keep this up for a while before seeing results.”

I woke up the next morning and went to weigh myself, 118 pounds. Technically up a pound, but well within the usual range. These things vary a bit. I just had to follow my new calorie neutral diet.