The Jigsaw Killer Hates Bulimia

I awake, not opening my eyes, from a drugged sleep. Those sleeping pills the doctor prescribed did a great job.
Ring, ring. My alarm clock buzzes as I mutter "Go away, I'm too tired to get up." I try to roll over in my bed, but I can't. I feel...paralyzed. It was then that I realised...

That wasn't my alarm clock.

My eyes snap open wide. I'm tied to a bed, a bed I'd never seen before. What is this? What's happening?

The television buzzes to life. A clown, on a bicycle. Suddenly, realisation kicked in as I heard a voice.
"Hello Kirsty. I want to play a game. All your life, you've been throwing up after your meals, trying to get rid of your 'fat', claiming that you 'can't stop'. Endangering your life. Do you value your life, Kirsty? We will see if you appreciate the gifts you have."

I try to scream, but nobody answers. Nobody can hear me, but that sadistic little clown on the television.

"There is a slow acting poison running through your veins. It's been there the minute you arrived here. In about two hours, the poison will kill you." The little doll coughed and wheezed.
"The antidote...is found in one of those cakes over there."

I look over to a corner of the room. Chocolate eclairs, sponge cakes, ceesecakes, gateauxes, fattening, sugary substances that made me feel sick.

"You will never know which one has the antidote in. The only sure way of survival, is to eat them. And keep them down Kirsty. Live or die. Make your choice."

As the television cuts off, I start to scream again. I struggle against the ropes on the bed. I raise my mouth to near my wrist, and start to bite through the rope in a frenzy. I had to escape, I had to...The wrist comes free with a jolt, and I quickly untie myself, and slowly approach the cakes...I look them over, probing my stomach. I could hear his voice in my head still. "Live or die. Make your choice."

I pick up the chocolate eclairs and I push them into my mouth, chewing quickly. With every gulp, I feel sicker and sicker. Next is the cheesecake. Toffee, the stickiest, sickliest substance in the world. I wolf it down, trying not to look at my stomach. The sponge cake, the chocolate gateaux, small cupcakes with pink and white icing on them...I shove everything in my mouth.

After the last mouthful, I collapse, holding my stomach in agony. I feel the bile rise up in my throat. "No!" I scream silently at myself. "He won't win! I can keep it down, I can do this!" I faint in the midst of my pain.

When I wake up, I'm surrounded by a pool of vomit. I look up weakly, and see a cloaked and hooded figure. A girl in her early twenties looking at me. She smirks as her words echo through the chamber...

"Game Over."