Moria Matheson was fat. I know, you aren't supposed to say that, but she was. Just ask her. She was a giant, fat blob, who was never good at anything except smiling in pictures looking like an engorged pig, not a micro pig either. Atleast, that's what her family and friends would joke about behind her back and, in a more playful way, to her face. She also often participated in the roasting.
So Moria Matheson decided to hell with everyone. She was happy, she had her self respect, and she had this delicious carrot cake that she had made herself. She would move off the desolate, cold, botox infested Island of Manhattan and move to the trendy, up and coming, Roosevelt Island.
Upon arrival, perhaps it was more 'up and coming' than trendy, but no matter. She had made her decision and would stick to it. Sure, everything closed rather early, but the high rises were luxurious, the park was manicured and the streets were quiet. Too quiet for some, but not for Moira Matheson, who welcomed the still, albeit, erie silence.
There was only one, teeny, tiny problem. The housing available was an old Insane Asylum turned luxury building sitting on the Island's edge. But she wouldn't judge a book by its cover. She would go explore, go colonize.
She was greeted by Greta Gerginson upon arrival, a jovial, mad men era-looking building manager who showed her all around the facility. There was the lavish pool, the steam rooms, the gymnasium, and business center. All apartments were fully furnished and had their own washer and dryer. It was all beautiful, but not a tenant in sight. "Where are all the tenants?" Moira inquired. "Why they are in their apartments ofcourse, " Greta answered. "We aren't allowed out after day," She said, and with one quick move, she locked Moira in her new apartment.
Moria panicked! She beat on the door, asking for someone, anyone to help, but the sound proof walls would not yield. She felt tricked, stupid. She cursed her family and friends for driving her out, she vowed a loud, hysterical revenge. She looked for something to break! Just then she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She wasn't fat, or a giant, or any of the disgusting things she thought of herself. She was frail, she was small, she finally saw herself, and she was frightened. The sickly person looking back at her did not look well.
Night fell and dogs howled and Moira's door unlocked. She ran out of the building as fast as she could, terrified. She jumped in the cold East River and swam back to Manhattan, back to her apartment, completely disheveled. She barely made it. Strangers gave her looks of disgust but no one would help her.
She walked into her apartment and saw cake on the counter, uneaten. There was uneaten cake hidden in the refridgerator, the freezer, the closet, in the bathroom, and toilet. No food had been eaten in her home; everything was full. How could this be? She looked at photos of herself, no longer the fat, disgusting, Moira Matheson she had seen, but a frail,boney, sickly girl. It was worse. She no longer saw herself smiling in any photo. She was making some sort of strange duck face in all of them!
Moira ran into her closet and checked all of her dresses, they were all size 0! She draped one on herself as she looked in the mirror, it looked giant on her boney body. She screamed. She ran out into the street, but no one would help her. People pushed her away with disgust, they shoved her as she fell several times to the floor. Defeated, she made the long trek back to Roosevelt Island.
At the door of the new apartment, the old Insane Asylum, Greta greeted her, unfazed. "Welcome Home, Moira" She said, warmly. "We have live music and dinner at 6". Moira nodded, unsure, and went upstairs. She changed and showered.
At 6pm, all the doors unlocked and the building's full residential body, came out to play; all a giant amaglamation of misfits. Some looked scarier than others, but mostly they just looked content. She smiled. Greta approached her with a spoonful of carrot cake. Moira was hesistant, but eventually gave in and savored what tasted like Eden. "Another?" asked, Greta. Moira shook her head, one was more than she already should have.
"Well, let me introduce you to the rest of the patients," she said. Moira smiled, finally, home.