The Thin You

Gerald lay on his bed and listened to the hypnosis MP3 on his phone. He was fifty kilograms overweight and desperately wanted to get rid of this disgusting burden, the jokes, and the hurtful teasing in gym class. He tried jogging while listening to audiobooks, but that just made him eat more. Weightlifting was okay but going to the gym every day was tiresome, and most times he couldn't be bothered.

The hypnosis MP3 advertised the weight loss solution of the century. It was seriously hyped and the suggestions were hidden behind modern music, not the heavy metal he loved, but electronic music. Not great, but not bad either. It even kind of had a beat. The downside was he didn't feel like he entered any kind of trance. Most Hypnosis sessions put him to sleep but this one he felt wide awake and alert. His feet were almost tapping to the tunes seeping through his mind.

Titled The Thin You, the MP3 touted amazing results to sate hunger and provide energy through the power of your subconscious. Gerald had yet to see or feel the results. Four days of listening hadn't paid off yet. He promised to give the MP3 thirty days to start. Unlike most hypnosis tapes that took a month to kick in, The Thin You claimed to act immediately, still, he knew his brain worked slower than average people so thirty days was good.

The sixty-minute session ended and Gerald found himself in the kitchen. Dinner was an hour ago and he needed something sweet for his tongue. He opened the fridge. Twinkies! That God they brought them back. The copies just weren't the same.

The living room was off the side of the kitchen, separated by an arch entrance. Soft mutterings from the TV disturbed the silence in the house. Mom and Dad always watched the box with the volume turned down low. He hated it and sometimes he couldn’t hear the actor’s words, so he stopped watching.

He popped his head through the archway and saw his parents on the sofa. Both had their eyes closed. As usual, they slept in front of the TV. Dad had dropped a can of beer. Like him, they were big, but the hypnosis worked. They were thin now. And it only took them four days. But his parents were smarter than him.

Gerald placed his Twinkies on the kitchen table after moving the empty pizza box off to the side and picked up the dropped beer can. He swung the can in his hand; it was about a quarter full. Dad hadn't split much. Carrying it to the trash, he emptied the can. He liked beer. If Dad knew he had finished it he'd be in the shit.

Returning to his room, he placed the Twinkies on his bed and hit the repeat function on the MP3. After eating all the Twinkies, he would feel sleepy and The Thin You could play all night in his head. He laid in his and adjusted the junk food position so he wouldn't crush them, plugged in his earbuds, and pressed play.

* * *

He woke up the next morning and went straight to his computer, surprised he had fallen asleep. The Twinkies were on the bed — partially squashed but the packet remained sealed. He hadn't eaten them. That was awesome. Usually, he couldn't sleep until the sweetness had sated his needs. This MP3 rocked. Or had he just dropped off to sleep and this hypnosis was just crap like the rest of them. Nothing seemed to work for him. At least today was Saturday. He needn't worry about school for another two days. Looking at his alarm clock he saw it was only four-thirty.

Scrolling through Facebook he searched for something. He had no idea what he was looking for, but a lot of people were online and although he had over a thousand friends, he interacted with none of them. He found a weight loss group and clicked to join. Spooling through the updates, he stopped on The Thin You experiment. He read praise after praise for this product. There were pictures of before and after.

Feeling a tad bitter, he went to his bed and picked up the Twinkies knowing he would feel better after a sugar rush. Sitting back down on the chair, he read more praise and one user stated one failure – hers. He rejoiced in it and friended that woman. Her name was Missy, and she accepted his request instantly. He wrote a generic thank you on her wall and then messaged her, asking how long she had listened to the MP3. He explained his situation and how his parents listened for only four days and lost weight. He sent the message and waited.

His eyes roamed over to the Twinkies. He reached for the pack and tore it open, pulling out one log wrapped in plastic.

Don’t open it.

Gerald dropped the Twinkie and spun around in his seat. It had been a woman’s voice. “Mom?”

The room was empty. The door was still shut.

He stood up. A shiver ran down his spine. His computer beeped, alerting him to a message. Ignoring it, he went to the door, opened it, and looked down the hall to his parent’s bedroom. The door was open. “Mom? Was that you?”

No answer.

Curious, he walked to the bedroom. He knocked before entering and discovered an empty room. The bed was still made. He went to the stairs and listened. Faintly, the sound of the TV reached him. Had they stayed up all night? That was unusual. Still, it was Saturday, maybe there was a special show on this early and they wanted to watch it. He didn’t care and returned to his computer. He clicked the Facebook message. It read: Don’t open it.

Gerald almost shit his pants. A shiver raked his shoulders and scratched down his back. He looked over his shoulder but no one was watching him. The message freaked him out. He checked his webcam and it wasn’t connected to the USB drive.

He typed: Don’t open...what? And hit send.

A messenger window opened.

MISSY: You know what.

GERALD: Nope, no idea.

He reached for the dropped Twinkie.

MISSY: Put it down, asshole.

Gerald stared at his Twinkie and put it to the side.

MISSY: You’re not hungry. You just have an eating habit.

GERALD: How do you know what I’m doing?

MISSY: I can guess.

Gerald thought about that a moment and then typed: On Facebook, you said you failed The Thin You.

MISSY: It’s not for everybody. It has adverse effects on some people.

GERALD: Like that?

MISSY: Different for everybody. Me? I started throwing up on the fifth day. How long have you been listening?

GERALD: Four days.

MISSY: Let me know how you feel tomorrow.

GERALD: Okay. Will do.

MISSY: TTL

GERALD: See ya.

He closed the instant message screen and surfed to The Thin You website. He read through the home screen again and felt excited about the product. He looked for his phone and found it on the floor. Inserting the earbuds, he realized it was still playing and his battery was near dead.

Pulling the USB cord from a drawer, he plugged it into the computer and pressed play. He typed: The Thin You into Duck Duck Go. Eighteen thousand links came up. He knew he wouldn’t surf past the second page. The search engine showed twenty-five links per page and on the twenty-fourth link was the title, Warning. He scanned the cache and clicked the link.

The makers of The Thin You use real deep hypnosis therapy. There are many side effects to this wonderful offering. Taking a patient this deep into their subconscious can cause countless psychotic episodes and physical discomfort. These include—

Stop reading.

Gerald spun around again. No one. Clicking back to Facebook he looked at the instant message window. It was inactive and MISSY wasn’t online.

“Who said that?”

I did.

Gerald jumped out of his seat, kicking the chair backward. The earbuds jerked from his ears. He performed a search of his room. He opened his bedroom door again and searched the hallway. His parent’s bedroom door was still open. The TV was still on downstairs, he heard the excited voice of TV Shopping. Concentrating on the sound he heard an infomercial for The Thin You CD or instant download.

That damn program was everywhere. And it was a success.

Forgetting the voice, Gerald looked at his bulging stomach. It didn’t look as if anything had changed. How had Mom and Dad lost all their weight so quickly? He grabbed it in his hands and gave it a shake. “I hate you,” he whispered, afraid his parents might hear.

He returned to his bedroom and stopped at the open door. Something was amiss but he couldn’t place it. His eyes roamed the room. His bed sheets were a mess, twisted and half on the floor, as usual, the closet was open showing clothes tossed on the floor, and his computer showed the Facebook page. Where were the Twinkies?

Someone was here. Someone was in the house.

“Dad!”

Daddy can’t help you.

The female voice was so close. He heard the words clearly.

“Dad!” Gerald ran for the stairs and took them two at a time. He rushed through the kitchen, screaming for his father over and over. He entered the living room and froze. His hands shook, lips quivered and the screams died. His breath came in hard and fast.

His parents were on the sofa, eyes closed, unmoving. Their flabby cheeks had been shorn off, the double chin removed, and the underarm flab of his mother lay on the carpet. The pounds of her stomach looked like raspberry jelly pooled on the floor at her feet. The fat had been removed from her thighs to her groin. Dad was in a similar state. His beer gut wobbled in his hands. His parents looked as if they had been skinned to get to the fat.

Gerald doubled over and vomited. It splattered next to a carving knife. He dropped to his knees. Tears ran a river down his face. His breath jolted into his lungs between powerful sobs of loss.

Don’t forget about me.

A change came over Gerald at the sound of the intruder. His crying stopped and he took long, slow breaths. His hand slid over to the carving knife.

Be careful.

“Who are you?”

I am the thin you.

Gerald got to his feet. He held the knife handle so tight his knuckles were white. He wiped tears from his face and turned around. He didn’t expect to see someone and he was correct. No stranger stood in the living room.

He saw the phone on a small side table and went to it.

Don’t.

“Go to hell.” Gerald picked up the handset and punched in the emergency number. On the table was a family photo. In it, his parents were smiling. He remembered the day they took the photo. It was a warm day in the middle of summer. The sun was high and they were glad to be out of the tour bus. Dad insisted on wearing his Boston Red Sox baseball cap, though he never watched a game and wasn't much of a sports fan.

The phone connected and he heard a ringtone. An operator answered. “What service do you require?”

“The police,” Gerald said.

“Hold the line, ma’am.”

“Okay.”

Hang up.

“No.”

Gerald remembered the photo. They were in Old Town on their yearly family trip to Arizona. They stood in front of an old wagon wheel and asked a friendly tourist to take the photo. He remembered his mother saying, “Geraldine, smile please.” In the photo, she had smiled and she also wore her new outfit, though it was tight around the bust and stomach. But she vowed to fit into the thing within a month. She would starve herself if that’s what it took. She would eat and puke everything back up. That was the way to go. Then she discovered The Thin You MP3 download.

On the walls hang several family photos displaying happiness and fun times. Memories that were frozen in time forever. The first was a newborn baby in a pink jumpsuit. The next was a five-year-old girl with pigtails wearing a backpack and waving to the camera. The next was a junior high school photo showing a girl who had gained a lot of weight. The high school photo was of an unhappy teenager with braces and wearing baggy clothes to hide her embarrassment.

I am the thin you, Geraldine.

“Police. What is your emergency?”

“I’m sorry officer, I think my child picked up the phone,” she lied.

The female officer laughed. “Not a problem. Mine has done the same.”

Gerald looked at his hands. Pink nail polish shone in the lights. Looking down he wore light blue pajamas and pink bunny slippers. His hair was in a ponytail.

“I’m Geraldine.”

In a flash, she remembered buying a new carving knife in a department store. She drugged her parent’s drinks to put them in a deep sleep. She undressed them and she set to work freeing them from their burden of unwanted extra weight. She expected the pain would wake them up but it didn’t as she dug in and pulled free pound after pound and tossed it on the floor. She watched the blood soak into the sofa.

She remembered drinking the rest of Dad’s beer and dropping asleep in her bed. That was a stupid mistake. But she wasn’t herself then, so she couldn’t hold herself accountable.

Geraldine?

“What?”

You freed your parents. Now it’s time to free the thin you.

She looked at her parents. “They look so beautiful and thin. This is beauty. Isn’t that what the magazines claim?”

Free me.

Geraldine pulled off her pajamas and underwear. She kept her bunny slippers on though. They were so cute.

END