by Sara Carey
“Swallow” is an honorable mention in Southern New Hampshire University’s 2024 Fall Fiction Contest.
This story contains sensitive topics.
Before me, on the bathroom counter, sat two translucent orange pill bottles with no labels. I stood with my back against the subway-tiled walls. My best friend Olivia stood opposite against the bathroom doorframe.
I couldn’t bring myself to look at what was inside the bottles, too afraid I would lose my nerve, but neither of us made a move towards the counter where the bottles sat. It was a stalemate. A test to see who would be brave enough to do it first.
“I don’t think I can do it,” I said, to break the silence.
Olivia rolled her eyes, throwing her sheet of hair across a shoulder, the strands shimmering gold.
“Don’t be such a baby,” she said, pushing off the door frame to snatch one of the bottles.
I stopped myself from cringing, watching as she spun the bottle in her manicured hands, her long stiletto nails like claws against the white lid.
“What if it hurts?” I ask.
She blinked at me.
“It’s one swallow. You won’t even taste it if you do it right. Just shoot it like a shot” she said.
One swallow, it’s that easy. One swallow and none of the work. One swallow and you’ll never have to exercise again.
It’s what every celebrity was rumored to be taking. It’s what was making people drop weight faster than any fad had done before.
“What if the rumors are true? What if once it’s inside, we’re not the same?” I ask, Olivia’s nails still clacking against the bottle.
Clack.
Clack.
Clack.
“This isn’t some mind control scheme. You need to stay off Reddit. Look,” she said closing the distance between us. “I know you’re scared, but we’re in this together. It’s one swallow, some discomfort, and then it’s over.”
My eyes roamed Olivia’s exposed torso beneath her cropped shirt, at how the planes of her stomach were contoured, her waist a defined curve. She had always been effortlessly thin, eating what she wanted and laying around for however long she wanted to.
Unlike me who tracked every bite of food and wouldn’t eat dinner unless I got 10,000 steps in.
It was tempting, what was in that bottle. I couldn’t deny that. To eat what I wanted to without the guilt. It could be worth the risk.
“You don’t even need to do this Liv. You’re already thin,” I said.
She huffed, turning away from me to look in the mirror.
“Yeah but look at Marie and how much better she looks since she’s done it. She was thin too, but now she’s really snatched. Her stomach looks like she does crunches every day, but you and I both know she would never,” Olivia said, smirking.
“She also acts half brain-dead now,” I said to Olivia’s reflection in the mirror.
Olivia cocked an eyebrow and then shrugged.
“But she looks good, so what does it matter?”
I crossed my arms.
That’s all that ever matters. A person’s essence is measured by the value of their appearance, and nothing is more valuable than thinness.
“Do you even know how hard it was to find these? They’re sold out everywhere,” Olivia said.
My eyes drift to the bottle. Of course, I knew how difficult it was to get. It’s why I said yes when she first asked me if I wanted to do it. The idea of one swallow was so easy to commit to. No more eyeing greasy french fries with a mixture of disgust and envy. No more dragging myself to the gym because the guilt of not working out would echo in my head until every bite of food felt undeserving.
But now that the solution was here, the bottle right in front of me, I wasn’t sure if I could do it.
“This is it. Either do it or don’t do it, Becca. But I’m not losing my chance,” Olivia said, aiming for the door.
She turned to look at me one last time.
“I’ll be in the upstairs bathroom. If you do it, just remember, swallow it quickly.” And then she shut the door, leaving me alone with the other bottle on the counter.
Moments later I could hear the upstairs bathroom door close.
I took a deep breath.
It was now, or never.
I reached for the bottle, my hand shaking as I lifted it to the light to peer at its contents.
Inside was an oval-shaped, light grey insect. Its segmented body undulated as it moved against the inside, trying desperately to climb and escape. Its face had small, sharp black pincers to allow it to latch onto flesh with the help of its equally sharp legs to hold it in place. I could hear the faint clicking of its pointed legs on the plastic and wondered if it was the bug I had heard earlier, not Olivia’s nails.
I opened the lid, a faint dirt-like smell greeting me as I brought the bottle to my mouth.
I hesitated, remembering the horror stories blasted on the news of failed attempts to swallow the bug.
“Shocking news of popular social media influencer drowning in her own blood after trying the new diet fad that has taken Hollywood by storm. Reports say the death toll is only climbing, but it is not enough to convince consumers to hop off the bandwagon.”
I heard it climbing, my mind considering how it could pierce the flesh of my esophagus with its sharp legs and suffocate me if I didn’t get it down.
I looked at my reflection, at the neon green hoodie that was three sizes too big so I could hide beneath it. I thought of the bridesmaid dress my sister wanted me to wear but I was too self-conscious to try it on in front of her. I thought about the spring trip to the beach that Olivia planned but I stayed in the hotel room because I hated how I looked in my bathing suit compared to everyone else.
I was tired of always thinking about food and hating myself for it. I was tired of never enjoying a piece of cake or going to bed hungry because I had reached my calorie goal and didn’t want to go over.
Just shoot it like a shot. One swallow.
Could it be so easy?
I threw back the pill bottle, unhinging my jaw. Once I felt the bug’s body hit my tongue, I swallowed forcibly. I could feel it lodged in my throat, so I swallowed again and again, forcing every ounce of saliva to flush the bug down. I turned the faucet on, shoving my mouth beneath the stream to guzzle mouthful after mouthful.
I felt the lump move down my throat slowly, and then it was down. I stood upright, hands fumbling for the edge of the sink as I braced myself, my chest heaving with effort.
It was over. I got it down.
And then, my stomach clenched.
Once. Twice.
I fell to my knees. Pain spasmed through me like a shockwave to the nerves. I could feel it in my knees, my elbows and then suddenly the urge to use the bathroom gripped me. I scrambled for the toilet, one hand gripping my stomach, the other shoving my pants down far enough for me to sit.
My stomach burned, its contents like liquid fire. I needed it out.
I pushed to relieve myself, but it hurt.
I groaned as more cramping wracked my body.
I pushed again, this time feeling an inkling of release as something warm trickled out of my backside. But the pain was still there. Another push and I felt something gush out.
My stomach tightened, and I heard the splashing of water as more of me emptied. It felt as if every bit of my insides were fleeing, forced out with the power of a hydrant, no end in sight as my stomach tightened and coiled, losing more and more of myself until I felt like I had nothing left to give.
The urge to release gave way and my muscles slowly relaxed. The sharp scent of acid and iron burned my nose, mingling with the distant smell of bleach. Sweat and saliva dripped from my chin, my throat aching from restrained screams.
I stood on shaky legs, looking behind me at the red-rimmed toilet. Blood had splattered along the porcelain white, filling the bowl nearly to the brim. I should have been alarmed, but instead, I felt a delicate euphoria settling in my shoulders.
I stumbled to the sink, my hands reaching to grip the counter. I pulled my hoodie up to expose my stomach, eyeing my reflection and the way veins pulsed and stretched beneath my skin. I felt blood drip down my thighs as my fingers roamed the valleys between each rib bone. My lips curled into a smile. I felt…thinner.
Category: Competition, Featured, Short Story, SNHU Student