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Calorie Counting for Mom's Love Novel Cover

Calorie Counting for Mom's Love

Under the watchful eye of their retired supermodel mother, two sisters are subjected to a high-tech weight monitoring system. While Abigail Teller seemingly consumes fried chicken without consequence, the narrator faces three-day fasts for even a 0.1% increase. On her twentieth birthday, kidney failure causes severe bloating, triggering a violent 5% fat alert. Accused of lying and gluttony, she suffers electrical punishment before being locked away, left to die as her family celebrates without her.
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Chapter 2

I was jolted awake by the sound of a door opening. I couldn't open my eyes, as my eyelids were swollen and unbearably heavy. I heard a voice—it was Abigail.

"Ugh. I can't believe Mom made me come back just to grab a scarf," she grumbled, her footsteps stopping in front of me.

Her voice dripped with mockery. "Well, look at you. You're still on the floor? Mom's not even here, and you're playing dead."

I used every bit of strength I had, my fingers twitching. In the end, a hoarse "Water…" barely left my throat.

Abigail squatted down, the smell of fried chicken and perfume rushing over me. "You want water?"

She shook a cup of soda in front of me, ice clinking against the glass. I nodded with difficulty. "P-Please…"

She sneered. "You're trying to set me up, aren't you? Anyone who gives you food or drinks is considered an accomplice. I'd have to fast for three days. I don't want to starve because of you, pig."

With that, she stood and took a big gulp of the soda. Tears streamed down my face in despair.

"Ugh. Don't cry," she said, nudging my side with her toe, right on the part of my back that hurt the most—my kidneys. I shuddered and yelped, pain shooting through me.

"Oh, quit the act!" She pulled her foot back in disgust, adding, "I barely touched you, and you're screaming like that. Fat people are so dramatic. Look at all this fat—you've even got stretch marks now."

She jabbed at my swollen thighs, laughing so hard her body shook. "Hey, do you know what Mom just said in the car?"

She leaned close to my ear. "She said if your body fat doesn't go down soon, she's sending you to a weight-loss boot camp. I heard they give you only an apple a day and make you run 12 miles.

"I think it'd suit you perfectly. You've got enough fat on you to last six months."

Notoriously, that place was no different than a torture camp. The fear made my heart race. The monitor started beeping again.

Abigail laughed, clapping her hands in delight. "Oh my gosh, look—just hearing you have to run, and your heart rate spikes. And you still say you're not lazy?"

Then, her gaze dropped to under the couch. There was my pill bottle, containing painkillers and diuretics I had taken in secret. When Mom threw them out, one bottle had rolled underneath, but I had never been able to reach it.

Abigail walked over and picked up the small white bottle. "What's this? Compound… something tablets?"

A spark of hope flared in my eyes. I reached out to her, begging, "Give it… to me…"

She turned the bottle in her fingers, a crooked smile curling her lips. "Aurora, this is your hidden snack, isn't it? No wonder you can't lose weight. Turns out you've been sneaking these candy pills behind Mom's back."

"No. Those are medicine…" I explained with struggle.

"Medicine? You're not even sick. Why are you taking medicine? This is obviously hormones! Mom said hormones make you gain weight the fastest!" she argued, face changing into something righteous.

She looked as if she was doing the right thing, punishing the wicked. "I can't let you sink any further."

She twisted the cap off the bottle and dumped all the pills onto the floor. Then, she lifted her leather boot with a four-inch heel and ground the pills into powder. White dust blended with the dirt on the floor.

"There, I've destroyed the evidence for you. No need to thank me."

Abigail dusted off her hands, grabbed the scarf, and added, "I'm off to my birthday party. You stay home and burn those calories, okay? Bye-bye, piggy."

The front door clicked shut. I stared at the white powder on the floor. Slowly, I inched closer and stuck out my tongue to lick it up, but it was too dry. My mouth had no saliva, and the powder made me cough violently.

Just then, a sudden, pounding heartbeat hit me. My vision went black.

Was I about to die? That wouldn't be the worst thing, anyway. Once I died, I wouldn't have to lose weight or starve myself anymore.

If I were reborn, I wouldn't want to become my mom's daughter again. Instead, I wanted to become a rock—no weight to gain, no pain to feel.

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