Never Been Fixed (Demi Lovato)

Oops

THIS CHAPTER MAY BE TRIGGERING SO DON’T READ IT IF YOU THINK YOU THINK YOU CAN’T HANDLE IT BUT AT LEAST READ THE ENDING BECAUSE IT’S IMPORTANT.

DEMI'S POV

I stumbled through my door and collapsed on the kitchen floor sobbing, totally sober but feeling as good as drunk. My tears splattered the cold tiled floor as I gasped for breathes; another anxiety attack was washing over me, the third one since Robyn had disappeared earlier today. I clawed at my face and dragged my long nails down my cheeks, piecing skin. I didn't deserve to live. Robyn could be kidnapped, or dying, or...or dead, and it was my fault. I had promised to keep her safe, to never leave her, and now look what I had done. I had no clue where she was.

"Your old blades are still in the washroom, Demi," the voices in my head whispered. "Just go get them, and all your pain will be gone."

I screamed to drown them out, but I couldn't. They were always with me, my eternal roommate. "You're just a pathetic waste of space!" They yelled.

"No!" I screamed out loud, clamping my hands over my ears. "SHUT. UP." Tears ran down my face as I tried in vain to battle my invisible attacker. I wondered if my neighbors could hear me. What would they think if they heard me? They'd probably call the police. I mean,  their normally quiet and nice popstar neighbor had suddenly started screaming like she was being stabbed to death. I'd call that a little suspicious too. Hopefully the police wouldn't come, because they’d be extremely confused. The only criminals were hidden away in my brain. There wasn't a single scratch on me to be seen—well, at least not ones they could see—and they'd just call me crazy and leave. A part of me told myself to shut up so that there was no chance of the police actually coming, but I was too lost in my own world of demons to care.

I heard my phone go off, playing Stronger by Kelly Clarkson. It was probably Selena. I had texted her a panicked paragraph of gibberish as soon as I had found Robyn missing, and she must be worried. The tune stopped, presumably going to my voicemail, and then immediately started again, the caller trying again. I could hear the tune playing clearly, but at the same time it sounded distant, drowned out by the voices arguing in my head.

“Go die! Nobody likes you! Disappear before you mess anything else up!” they told me.

This time, I agreed with them. Staggering to my feet, I dragged myself to the washroom. My vision was spotted with tears, my lips tasted of salt, hair clung miserably to my sweaty, wet face, and I was desperate for relief. I needed to see the glint of the razor, and feel the cool blade slide cleanly across my wrist. I needed to watch my heavily scarred but fully healed skin split in two, the slit puckering up with blood and then dripping down my arm and splattering the sink, dotting it with splotches of red. I needed it now. It was an addiction, a habit, a weakness, but it was my relief.

Once in the washroom, I clambered blindly on top of the sink, almost slipping off. Reaching up, I felt around the top of the medical cabinet, and found the hidden pouch I had been looking for. It was covered in dust and grime; I hadn't touched it in 3 years. My emergency pouch, I called it. Sliding off the sink, I fell clumsily to the ground, banging my left knee hard. Fuck. It didn't really even matter, though. That knee, and every other part of my body, would be pouring blood everywhere in minutes anyways. I ripped open the pouch (like fuck zippers, right?) and overturned it, spilling band-aids, razors, Polysporin, Kleenex, disinfectant, various pills, and laxatives everywhere.

I stared longingly at the assortment of medical pills, which I used to carry with me anywhere I went, a quick solution to escape the world permanently if my situation ever got too bad, my safety net in case everything crumbled. I chucked them over my shoulder furiously. I didn't deserve such an easy way out. No, I deserved pain, extreme pain.

Too panicked and blinded by tears to see clearly, my fingers hunted around the floor for the sleek, thin object that I hungered to use. My hands shaking and my breaths coming out in huge gasps, I picked a blade from a dismantled shaving razor up off the bathroom tiles, struggling for a moment to get a good grip on it. I grasped it tightly in my hand, so tightly it started to cut through the inside skin of my knuckles. I thought about the old scars that littered my skin like stray toothpicks spilled all over the floor. I hadn't touched them or my blade in three years. Did I really want to ruin that?

"Yesssssss," the voices hissed. "Do it, Demetria. You know you want to. Staying clean won’t matter once you’re gone."

They were right. I did want to do it.

'Are you sure?' the tiny sane part of my mind asked. 'You’re going to give up 3 years clean over this one small problem?'

"It's not a small problem," screamed the voices. "You fucking lost a kid, bitch. You deserve to cut."

"I. KNOW!" I screamed back at them. "I KNOW. JUST SHUT UP!" And then quieter, "Please, please, be quiet," I whispered weakly. I closed my eyes and gripped the blade.

"Demi?"

I whipped around to see Selena standing in the bathroom doorway, holding my spare key that I hid under the flowerpot outside, her confused face staring back at me. Slowly, I watched her face turn from startled to horrified in a second as she realized what I had been about to do. She  dropped her purse and the spare key and rushed to my side.

"Demi, you can't!" she whispered desperately, hugging my shoulders tightly.

I looked at her sadly. "I can. And I will."

"You're crazy if you think I'd let you," Selena said fiercely, grabbing my wrist with one hand and the blade with the other. “What’s wrong? I know there’s something. Don’t lie. The grammar in your text was worse than what your Lovatics type on Twitter after you post a selfie.”

"Nothing." I looked down at my lap.

Selena rolled her eyes. "Please tell me, Dem-Dem," she coaxed.

"It's...it's Robyn," I sobbed.

Selly frowned. "I think I'm missing something. Who's Robyn?"

"My-hic-my babyyyyyy," I bawled, my voice hiccuping when I thought of the terrible things that could be happening to Robyn right now.

God I was a mess. I needed to calm down.

"Take your time, babe," Selena encouraged. She picked me up-wow, she was strong-and brought me over to the couch, laying me down curled up with my head in her lap as I shook and sobbed. She ran her slim fingers through my hair and massaged my shoulders, trying desperately to get me to calm down. Twenty minutes later, my sobs had been reduced to what I might classify as weeps, and I could breathe normally. I sat up slowly in her lap, my head pounding and clogged from crying. As I lifted my head, my nose brushed hers and I raised my chin to stare into her eyes with mine.

Suddenly, I was grabbing her face with both my hands and pulling her in. I locked my lips to hers, collapsing my body onto hers and kissing Selena greedily.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

HAHAAH CLIFFIEEEEE :) Hope you liked this chapter as much as I liked writing it! I put a lot of work into it so yeah :)

Comment and vote pleazzzus jezzzus <333

This chapter is dedicated to @decodethenight because she commented on my last chapter :D <33333

~Emmmm