The Devil Keeps a Promise

I’ve struggled with an eating disorder since the 6th grade, I was religious at the time, and at night, after saying goodnight to my parents, a preemptive amen was made. Call it sacrilegious, naive, call it pitiful, but those nights were filled with open questions, phrased to whoever was listening, asking, praying, promising that I’d do anything to lose the weight. To not be choked by adult-sized shirts, to have some semblance of confidence; I’d pray to the devil, and he kept his promise. There was no firey hand to shake nor book to sign, I starved myself, and the weight came off.