An Anorexic Nicole Ritchie Soils Her Bed and The Fire That Follows

Nicole Ritchie sat on the edge of the bed in her West Los Angeles condominium apartment overlooking Sunset Boulevard. She awoke because her bed was wet and she was curious. She raised herself and was surprised that her bed was soiled with a moist brown pool maybe a foot in diameter. She was alone, thank god, she thought, but Nicole was concerned because her panties were all wet and brown too. Nicole was not wearing any bra because, well, why should she; she had no breasts, glands which had long since disappeared because of Nicole’s strict diet.

The brown liquid made a trail down Nicole’s bony left leg which dangled off the side of her bed along with her right bony leg which, oddly, she did not feel. Nicole took her right hand and massaged the upper right thigh, if that is what you could call it, of her right leg to see if she could feel anything. She couldn’t. Nicole moved her right ankle and toes, as she did with her left side as well, and she was gratified that she still had control of her legs. Nicole was not worried about the lack of feeling. Nicole concluded that the sense of touch was a sign of muscle which added weight, which is something she did not want. So possibly getting rid of a sense of touch removed a quarter of a pound or so from her body. This was a good thing, Nicole thought to herself. Nicole wondered if thoughts had weight.

Nicole looked down at her belly. As Nicole got thinner and thinner, she noticed that her belly started to form a small ball outward. She had read somewhere on one of the anorexia websites that this was a gas ball and a normal phase anorexics go through before the ball goes away. Well, Nicole was certainly not an anorexic even though everyone kept telling her she had a problem. Jeez, she was just thin, and people reveal their jealous natures in all sorts of ways. Though she did like checking out anorexics on websites, seeing their photos and comparing herself to them. They looked just a little too thin for Nicole. Anyway, the gas ball belly bothered Nicole, and so she decided she was just not going to eat anything today. Maybe a Tums to get rid of the gas. She knew that one Tums had a few calories, which bothered her. But if it reduced the gas ball, it was worth it. Just one, though. Don’t want to go nuts.

Nicole smiled that she was still sitting in her own shit on the bed. The odor had permeated the room, but this did not trouble Nicole. She was happy to know that the brown crap, which she also noticed had blood in it, or something red, was out of her body, lightening her load still more. Sitting in her own shit was not uncomfortable because she had little or no feeling in her buttocks, which looked more like two bone blades protruding at the base of her spine.

Nicole wondered how many pounds her skeleton weighed. If she could know that, then just add a few pounds to that figure for the brain, some skin and she guessed a few organs, and that would be the ideal weight. How much did her brain weigh? Not too much, she hoped.

Nicole reached over to the pack of Marlboro Lights on the side of her bed and removed a cigarette. Before lighting the cigarette, she examined the box. There was no information about calories or any other nutritional information on the pack of Marlboros. Nicole wondered if cigarette smoke had weight or calories. She decided to take the risk, and she lit the cigarette and took a very deep intake of hot smoke into her lungs. Actually, it was not a deep intake. Nicole had lost the ability to take a deep breath. But the nicotine immediately hit her bloodstream and did something odd. It made Nicole very sleepy. Nicole fell back into the soiled bed and looked up at the ceiling. He eyes closed and she fell into a very very deep sleep, her hand holding the cigarette fell to her side, the burning end luckily facing upwards, hopefully avoiding a fire. This was not a normal sleep; more like an exhausted body attempting to conserve what little fuel remained. The brain has protein, so Nicole’s body started using some of that to keep the heart pumping. But it did not prevent Nicole from dreaming. Nicole dreamed of her cigarette starting a fire on her bed and buring her to a crisp. In her dream, Nicole Ritchie wondered what the weight of her charred remains would be.

Nicole Ritchie’s apartment door swing open and in ran two firemen. The smoke was coming from the bedroom, which the firemen ran into and found Nicole Ritchie lying on her back, unconscious, naked except for her soiled panties. The pillow to her right was in flames. The smoke was billowing out of the open window, which was lucky for Nicole since it was immediately spotted from the street below, a fire alarm pulled, and the men in uniform were there in five minutes. The fire had significantly destroyed the pillow and was starting to spread to the sheets, but had not touched Nicole’s body or outstretched right arm and hand which had been holding the burning cigarette.

The firemen name Joe picked up Nicole’s body with one arm and hauled her into the living room. He was astounded how light Nicole was. He merely used a hand to pick her up, as light as a dumbbell. Joe deposited Nicole on the couch while the other firemen, named Javier, dealt with putting the fire out. Joe took Nicole’s pulse and noticed she was breathing, but she was wheezing with each breath, a sign that she had taken in some smoke. Joe pulled out his small canister of oxygen and placed the mouthpiece over Nicole’s open mouth whose teeth were protruding from very drawn and sickly facial skin. Nicole immediately started to cough, her eyes opened and she was stunned to see the firemen and the object over her face. Nicole got scared and pushed the oxygen mask away.

“What this? Who are you?” asked Nicole as she wiped her mouth.

“You had a fire, Miss, and we had to break into your apartment. You are OK, though,” said Joe.

“A fire?”

“Your cigarette. You must have fallen asleep,” said Joe.

Nicole noticed that she was naked but for the soiled panties, and she grabbed a sofa pillow to cover herself.

“You want me to help you to the bedroom. It is safe now. Things are under control,” said Joe.

“You gave me oxygen. You gave me oxygen. What will that do to me?” asked Nicole. The question confused Joe.

“It helped you breath. You had taken in smoke. It helped clear it out,” said Joe.

“Smoke. I took in smoke,” said Nicole as she wondered is smoke had calories. She wondered if oxygen had calories. But then she remembered that oxygen raised a person’s metabolism. She liked that. It helped to burn off fat.

“I feel a little faint. Can I have more oxygen?” asked Nicole.

“Yes. Of course,” said Joe as he placed the oxygen masked over Nicole’S mouth. Nicole took a breath and dropped the pillow from her breasts, better described as a flat board with two twisted pink spots that looked more like pimples than nipples.

Joe noticed that Nicole Ritchie was smiling. Her eyes were closed, and then Nicole went limp. Unconscious. Joe removed the mask and slapped Nicole. She awoke with a start.

“What. What did you do that for?” asked Nicole who was somewhat delirious. Joe was concerned by the odd behavior and radioed for paramedics.

Nicole then stood up, slowly, and walked into her bedroom.

“I’m going to get dressed. I have to go to the health club,” said Nicole as she closed the door. Joe was reluctant to follow her. But he hoped the paramedics would arrive soon.