Living Hunger

Frederique kept her head down as she walked through the crowded school hallway, shoulders hunched, trying to make herself invisible. It never worked.

"Hey, Freddy Freezerburn!" someone called from behind.

She winced at the nickname but kept walking, hugging her schoolbooks tighter.

"Leave me alone..." she whispered under her breath.

The laughter was always there. Echoing. Persistent. The sharp sting of whispered insults about her weight, the way she ate too much during lunch. Sometimes they stole her food and mocked her for how much she wanted it back. Sometimes they left it, just to see if she'd keep eating after the teasing.

The worst part was...she always did. The hunger never stopped. No matter how much she ate, it gnawed at her like a hollow pit in her stomach, as if something was wrong with her body...like it was broken.

By the time Frederique got home, the hunger had twisted into a deep ache. Dinner was lonely, just her at the kitchen table, the sound of cutlery echoing in the silent house. Her parents worked late...always late. The emptiness of the house only made her eat faster.

Yet no matter how much she ate, the ache remained.

That night, lying in bed, the hunger was unbearable.

"Please," she whispered into the dark, voice trembling. "I... I don't want to be like this anymore. I just want to be normal... skinny...better. Please."

Silence answered her.

And then...

A breath. A presence.

It was faint, like the sensation of someone standing just out of sight. The darkness of her room seemed thicker, heavier. Something brushed against her consciousness, cold and sharp, then warm.

Wish granted.

Frederique woke up the next morning feeling...strange.

At first, she thought she was sick. Her body felt light, as if she were hollow. Her limbs tingled with a strange energy. The hunger, however, was even worse than before.

She stumbled out of bed, blinking at her reflection in the mirror. Her face looked slightly different...cheeks slimmer, eyes more alert...but what caught her attention was the feeling.

Like something was watching her.

Her stomach twisted. Not just hunger. A void.

"Just my imagination," she muttered, shaking it off.

At breakfast, she devoured everything she could find...three eggs, toast, cereal, and a leftover slice of pizza from last night. Yet the ache persisted.

And then came school.

"What's with the new look, Freddy? Trying to be a model now?"

Frederiqua didn't answer as the usual crowd gathered near her locker. Today was different. She didn't feel small. She felt...tense. As if something coiled beneath her skin, watching them back.

But the insults kept coming.

"Oink oink."

"Careful, she might eat your whole lunch too."

Heat pooled in her chest. She felt sharp.

Do something, a voice whispered in her mind.

Frederique's hand clenched so tightly around her pencil that it snapped.

The laughter stopped for just a second.

Then...

"Whoa, what the hell? Chill, piggy."

She stared at the broken pencil in her hand.

No. Not just broken. The wood was crushed, splintered between her fingers like dry twigs.

She didn't remember squeezing that hard.

That night, Frederique couldn't sleep. The hunger was worse. She lay in bed, clutching her stomach, when the world suddenly... shifted.

She blinked.

The ceiling blurred.

No...everything blurred.

Then, nothing.

When her eyes opened again, she wasn't in bed anymore.

She was standing barefoot in the middle of the street. The cold wind bit her skin. Her hands felt raw, sore as if she'd been digging at something with her nails.

"Where...?" Her voice cracked.

Distantly, she could taste something... something bitter on her tongue. 

Fear.

 It wasn't hers.

A memory.

There had been someone here. Watching her. No...prey.

And then she saw it.

A jagged crack in the pavement near her feet. No...bite marks. The asphalt had been...chewed through.

Her heart pounded.

"What...what's happening to me...?"

From deep inside her, something stirred.

Hungry.