Something was amiss. Lady Anonymous sniffed the air, her nose catching the scent of deception. She slowly stood, glancing around her as she followed the smell to make sure no one was following her.
The cupboard door was suspiciously open! Lady Anonymous's heart raced as she pulled the door the rest of the way open. Nothing seemed to be amiss, but then Lady Anonymous looked towards the box of expensive chocolates she had received from her lover three months prior. She lifted the lid... opened the box...
the chocolates were missing!
My family really cares about dessert. And we get defensive and territorial about it. As you can probably imagine, this does not bode well for the local bulimic. I often take food that's not meant for me and then try to pretend I didn't do it. Everyone knows I took it, even though no one knows I'm bulimic, but as long as I say I didn't take it I don't get in trouble, I just feel guilty.
I took the chocolates. People got mad. I pretended I only had a few when in fact I probably had like ten. I hate myself for doing things like this. There's no excuse for thievery, even though I don't really consider it stealing because the chocolates belong to the family.
I want to leave. I want to curl up in a ball and hide.