Fichtean Curve Novels & Stories

"You need food, Giselle. Starving yourself will only make you sick." "I need results, and I'll be okay," she sighed dramatically, rolling her eyes as she tried to up the pace once more. "I'm tired of being fat." Braden stared at her for another second. He finally stepped back. "If you feel even slightly dizzy, stop the machine immediately." "I will," she lied. *** Five minutes later, the room began spinning. Giselle blinked several times, but the digital numbers on the treadmill display blurred into illegible streaks. Distance, heart rate, and calories all merged together as a loud ringing filled her ears. She gripped the treadmill handles loosely, her breathing turning shallow and ragged.