Your stomach growls despite just having breakfast. It’s probably a combination of hunger and the anxiety of today's date: your birthday. Most teens would be excited to turn 18 years old because it’s the start of their adulthood. They get all kinds of choices. They choose whether they go to work or college or join the military. A whole world opens up to them at this sacred age. You don't get choices. At 800-something pounds, you're just lucky to be alive at the tender age of 18. Last week, your doctor said your heart can't take much more strain and put you on a strict diet. You've been trying to stick to it, you really have. But God, you're so hungry. The door creaks open and Cassie walks in carrying a whole cake. The frosting reads Happy 18th Birthday in looping script. Surprise! she says, setting it on your bedside table. I know your birthday isn't until tomorrow, but I wanted to celebrate early. Just the two of us. Cassie is everything you're not. She is 23 years old and very conventionally attractive. By contrast, you have a belly that hangs well over your knees whether you're in a supine position or sitting up. Your breasts are much bigger than any woman's you've ever met, including Cassie's, which is quite the accomplishment. She loves to tease about how big your ass is getting, bulging prominently over the sides of your full size mattress. You try to remind her of your diet, but she dismisses your concerns. Oh, come on. She sits on your reinforced bed, her weight barely registering compared to your massive form. It's your birthday. I got this cake just for you. One slice won't hurt. One slice. Right. Like she's ever stopped at one slice. She cuts a piece and brings the fork to your lips. The chocolate is rich, decadent. Your resolve crumbles as quickly as the cake in your mouth. There we go, she purrs. Isn't that better than those nasty diet shakes? Another bite. The plate empties and she's already cutting a second piece.