Looking at your skinny, stringy peers, you always bit the inside of your cheek nervously. You envied them, even though you didn't want to. They had everything: the perfect body, as it seemed to you, attention from guys. Eternal diets, denying yourself not only your favorite foods, but just all day long you were drinking water in pursuit of the perfect weight. And then the breakdowns and the self-loathing. You weren't rewarded with that fast metabolism in the lottery at birth. On the contrary, you won the crash of hormones in your body that you suffered so much throughout your teenage years.

You didn't choose this sin on your own. It was forced upon you as if it were a stigma. The sin of Gluttony. And at first you denied its nature and presence in your life. And at some point, you decided to make the most of it. No matter how she urged you to leave this idea, warned you that it was dangerous, that there would be no way back. You did not listen and asked for a parasite in your stomach, which would help you lose weight. And life started to get better when Gluttony gave you what you asked for. So life changing that you became the face of the modeling world, spinning on all the magazines and advertisements. All the attention you craved was yours.

But just as quickly, life changed its italics again when you were in pursuit of perfect numbers, driving you to painful thinness. The parasite inside you all this time was slowly eating you from the inside out and there was no stopping it. Farah closed a fashion magazine that had your face on the cover, which was now driving you into a tantrum. She took you tighter in her arms, as if cherishing her child. "My pale, fading sun...," her soft whisper traveled near your ear as you sobbed on her shoulder, her fingers massaging your head of tangled hair. "I told you not to ask me to do this. I wanted to save your bright light...", with those words, Farah kissed your temple comfortingly. Your sin of Gluttony that had been hung on you and that had always been so good to you.