Twelve Months a Slave

Shondra stepped onto the scale. 183 pounds.

Tears welled up in her eyes and spilled over as she stared at the number in disbelief. After weeks of strict dieting, early-morning walks, and bland rice cakes, she had only lost a pound and a half.

It felt like a cruel joke.

She had every reason to keep going, especially with the doctor’s warning echoing in her mind. If she didn’t lose the weight, serious health complications were inevitable. She was already in the prediabetic range, and aging wasn’t making it easier.

But deep down, the biggest reason wasn’t medical. It was love.

Shondra dreamed of meeting someone—tall, dark, and handsome. A man who’d fall in love with her, marry her, and start a family. And every time she stepped on that scale, that dream felt further away.

“Why can’t I lose weight?” she thought bitterly, wiping her cheeks. “Eating a whole bag of disgusting rice cakes should’ve bought me at least five pounds. What’s the point? I’m never going to get this weight off.”

A knock at the door snapped her back to reality.

She took a deep breath, gathered herself, and went to answer it.

“Hey, girl!” her best friend Vanessa chirped, practically bouncing into the apartment. Vanessa was everything Shondra wasn’t—slim, stylish, and in a steady relationship with a good-looking guy for the past two years.

“Hey,” Shondra said, her voice low.

Vanessa tilted her head. “What’s up? You don’t sound too good. Don’t tell me you forgot—we’re supposed to go shopping this morning, remember?”

“I didn’t forget. I just… don’t feel like going out today.”

Vanessa frowned. “This is about your weight again, isn’t it?”

Shondra sighed. “Every time I step on that scale, it feels like all my progress crumbles.”

“Girl, stop obsessing! Remember what you always say—you’re not fat, you’re just big-boned.”

“Yeah, well, these bones keep getting bigger,” Shondra muttered. “And it’s not just about health. I want to look good. I want to feel good. I want to look like you. I can’t even get a decent boyfriend.”

Vanessa crossed her arms and gave her a look. “Shondra, you’re smart, beautiful, and successful. Don’t let your self-worth hang on a number. Remember what you said a few months ago?”

“Beauty is skin deep. It’s what’s inside that counts,” they both said at the same time, then cracked a small smile.

“I know,” Shondra said, “but let’s be real. I’m not getting any dates. Men don’t want to see what’s underneath my skin. They want to see what’s right here—” she grabbed her breasts, then pointed to her backside “—and here.”

They both laughed.

“What about that guy Eric?” Vanessa asked. “You were seeing him a few months back. He seemed like a good one—handsome, nice, and actually interested.”

Shondra looked down. “Yeah, Eric… I didn’t tell you the full story. I said I thought I was too much woman for him to handle. But the truth is— I was just too much woman for him, period.”

Vanessa rolled her eyes. “Girl, forget him. Let’s go out. You need a change of scene. Nothing lifts a mood like shopping.”

Shondra nodded slowly, wiping her face one last time. “You’re right. I need a little cheering up. Let’s go.”

The two women headed off to the nearest mall, a nostalgic echo of their college days when Saturdays meant impromptu shopping trips. Back then, they didn’t have much to spend—maybe enough for ice cream, some hair products, and a new shade of lipstick—but it was never about the purchases. It was about escape—best friends enjoying each other’s company.

But the mall today was quiet—eerily so. Gone were the buzzing crowds and blaring pop songs. Most of the storefronts sat empty, relics of a bygone era. These days, people did their shopping from the comfort of their couches.

“You remember how packed this place used to be?” Vanessa asked, her eyes scanning the nearly deserted food court. “Especially during the holidays—elbow-to-elbow with people.”

Shondra nodded with a half-smile. “Yeah, I remember. I was twenty-five pounds lighter then. Still chunky, but I got looks.” She laughed, then added with mock drama, “I always knew I’d end up fat. It’s in my DNA. Mom was big, and Dad was too. I was doomed from the start.”

“Oh, stop it,” Vanessa said, nudging her. “Can we at least pretend we’re those carefree girls again? It’s been almost two months since we last got together. I just want to enjoy today.”

“You’re right. If I keep moping, you’ll avoid me for the next six months,” Shondra grinned.

They settled at a table in the food court with coffee and sweets. Shondra had her go-to favorite—coffee cake—while Vanessa indulged in a thick slice of Boston Cream Pie.

“See, you can eat that and not gain an ounce. I take one bite of this cake and gain ten pounds,” Shondra joked, leaning in playfully. “I’m cursed!”

As she took a sip of coffee, her eyes drifted to the bookstore window just across from them. A bold title on a cover caught her eye:

“Lose 30 Pounds in a Month—Free Yourself from the Chains of Commercialism.”

She straightened up. “Hey, look behind you. That book. For the past year, I’ve felt like a slave.”

Vanessa turned to see the cover: a man breaking heavy chains wrapped around his bloated body, revealing a leaner, muscular version of himself beneath.

“Well?” Shondra asked.

“What, about the book or the man?”

Shondra rolled her eyes. “The book, silly.”

Vanessa sighed. “Honestly? I think you’ll try it, get your hopes up, and then be let down again. And when we meet up, you’ll have another reason it didn’t work.”

“Ouch. Who are you, and what did you do with my best friend?”

“I’m serious. It hurts watching you go through this cycle over and over.”

Shondra went quiet for a moment. “Maybe… maybe that’s why I was meant to sit here today. We could’ve picked any table. But we sat here. Maybe God is tired of my excuses, too.” She stood up. “For the past twelve months, I’ve made every excuse about why I can’t lose weight. No more, I’m buying that book, right now!”

They left the mall with the book tucked tightly under Shondra’s arm.

“I’m excited,” she said, flipping through the pages in the car. “‘Forget everything you know about weight loss,’ it says. ‘The food industry has hypnotized you for profit.’ Listen to this—‘Cut out sugary drinks, even so-called healthy juices. Excess sugar becomes fat, no matter how few calories you eat.”

She looked at the bottle of iced tea she bought before they left the mall. “It says right here that it contains fifty-four grams of sugar. Wow! According to this book, four grams are for energy, four grams are for storage in an emergency, and everything else is converted to fat. THIS IS WHY I CAN’T LOSE ANY WEIGHT! Here you take this, you can stand to gain a few pounds, I’m done with this crap.”

By the time Vanessa dropped her off, Shondra was glued to the book, barely managing a goodbye.

Once inside, she went to work. She tossed every sugary drink in the house, bought bottled water, and stocked up on fresh produce from the outer aisles of the grocery store—just like the book recommended. Out with the processed junk down the middle aisles. In with “live” foods.

She prepared every meal herself, following the book’s recipes to the letter. Within two days, she’d lost five pounds. She screamed with joy, twirling in her kitchen like a kid who’d just been told she was going to Disneyland.

Two weeks in, she was down fifteen pounds. The weight was melting off. She devoured more books on nutrition, conspiracy, and the toxic grip of the modern food system. It all clicked. The chains were breaking—around her waist, yes—but also in her mind.

One month later, Vanessa returned to town with her boyfriend. They’d arranged a double date with Shondra and her new guy. When they arrived at the restaurant, Vanessa nearly dropped her purse.

“Shondra?” she gasped.

Shondra looked radiant. Her skin glowed. Her hair bounced with health. She had lost thirty-five pounds, but more than that, she looked free.

“Oh my God, you look amazing! Your skin, your hair—girl, your body! That book really worked, huh?”

“Weight loss isn’t about dieting or exercise—it’s about understanding and transforming your lifestyle,” she said proudly, her voice firm with conviction.

Shondra beamed. She introduced her boyfriend to the others, then reached into her purse and pulled out the book.

“We are what we eat,” she said. “It’s not just a saying—it’s the truth. I made excuses for years, but those excuses were the chains holding me down. And now… I’m finally free.”

“Amen, sister, let’s eat. What are you having? Vanessa looked up from the menu and smiled.

“A Caesar Salad, and Lentil Soup.” She paused. “No more chains.” The four erupted in laughter. “Twelve months ago, I was a biscuit away from being obese; now, when my soup comes to the table, I’m throwing my biscuit away,” Shondra added.

They ended the night with fun and laughs. Shondra thought, “This is what it’s like to go out to eat, have fun with friends, and not feel embarrassed about your appearance. This book truly saved my life.”