Baby, Don't Cry

Chapter 6

"Are you going to wake up anytime today? It's at least 12 in the afternoon." I heard Demi chuckle. I quickly sat up. I didn't know that I slept for that long. It's no surprise. I'm afraid to sleep at home, with the condition my mom's always in.

"I'm sorry." I said. She laughed, and left the room to head downstairs. I slid my shoes back on, and followed her downstairs. Once I saw her in the kitchen, she looked up at me and smiled. "I'm going to go home. I'll see you later." I said waving and heading for the door, but she stopped me.

"You can't go home. What if your mother is there?" She asked. You can tell that she was worried. I laid my hand on her shoulder, "I've dealt with it for a while now. I can handle it." I said. She didn't look any better.

"I still don't thin-" She began, but like always, I cut her off. "I don't care what you think. I'm leaving, and I'm going home. Thank you for letting me stay here last night, but my mom's going to be upset. See you sometime later." I said leaving.

I walked out of the house, and down the street into my own. I noticed that there were boxes everywhere, and the house looked like it'd been swiped clean. I could hear distant movement coming from upstairs.

I ran up the stairs to reveal my mom in my room packing up the last of my things. "Why are you packing up everything?" I asked. She looked up at me sympathetically. I hope this isn't something bad.

"I'm selling the house." She simply said. I don't understand why she's selling the house. Are we moving or something? "Why?" I asked. She moved over closer to me.

"I'm leaving for rehab in the morning. After what your friend Demi said, I felt like I need to get help for myself. This isn't healthy." She explained. I nodded. "What about me?" I asked, and she frowned.

"I'm sorry, Mariana. I tried. It seems that I've failed being a parent without your father. I've gone completely insane, and it's not fair to you. I'm going to need to put you up for adoption, Mariana. I'm sorry." She said. A tear began to fall out of my eye. Up for adoption? That's a low blow, even for my mom.

I nodded, and walked down the stairs. I sat on the steps, and put my face into my hands before crying. I don't know how it's so easy for me to cry now. I've finally had someone to hold me while crying, and now I think it's okay?

I wiped my tears, and looked up out into the empty street. As I was wiping my tears again, Demi came jogging through with headphones in her ears, but stopped when she noticed that I was crying. "How are you?" She asked, but I ignored her and just sat there looking ahead of me.

She sighed, "Why are you back to acting this way?" She asked. I shrugged, "I don't know, maybe because I'm being put up for adoption?" I said. She covered her mouth with her hand. I just stared at her.

"Why?" She asked me. "It doesn't matter." I said while getting up and running back into the house. Thinking about everything that's happened to me lately, I couldn't hold it in. I needed something to do.

I ran upstairs into my room, and into the bathroom. I looked under the sink, and thankfully the shoebox beneath the sink was still there. I grabbed a freshly sharpened blade, and set it upon my wrist.

I can't believe that after all my mom has done to me, how she's made me feel, she decides to put me up for adoption. I never meant to turn out this way, cutting away my feelings, and not eating because I'm too fat. I keep pushing out the person who wants me to be happy, and who wants to be apart of my life. I destroy everything that has something to do with me.

I cleaned up my arms, and washed my face. I made sure that my eyes weren't red anymore, and walked downstairs. I found mom sitting on her phone, but I'm not in the mood for being in this house right now. I walked out of the front door and headed towards Demi's house.

"Demi?" I called out, and a few seconds later, I saw her running towards the door. She unlocked the screen door, and let me in. She ran back into the kitchen, and continued to make her grilled cheese. She grabbed the spatula and flipped it over, only to reveal black bread. "Shit." She mumbled, which made me laugh.

She grabbed the grilled cheese out of the pan, and put it on a plate. She offered me some, but I politely declined. My life is now thanking me. I didn't know she's a bad cook.

"Is it true?" She sat down and asked me. I nodded. "How do you feel?" She asked. I shrugged, "I don't even know. I guess, I feel abandoned. I'd rather do anything besides going there, but I have no choice. All I want is for my mother to be healthy, even if it means never seeing her again." I sighed. She took a bite into her grilled cheese, but after hearing a crunch, she set it down and laughed.

"I don't know if you were aware of this, but when I was 18, I was admitted into rehab. I've done worse than your mom, but rehab hasn't failed to help me treat my problems. I suffered from self-harm, alcohol abuse, drug abuse, bulimia, and I was even diagnosed with bipolar disorder. What I'm saying is, I've been through it all and it's not wrong for you to want your mom to get well. I'm glad I've been helped, I'm not saying I'm completely healed. There's moments that I want to relapse, and give it all up. But, friends and family and especially my fans help me get through it all. There is hope for your mother, and one day she'll thank you for helping her get well. Just remember that she loves you, and this is the best that she can do for herself, and for you." She said, and hugged me after. Is this what it feels like to be loved?

"I d-didn't know you went through all of that." I said. She's self-harmed before? I don't understand why. She has everything to live for.

She nodded, and held out her arms for me to see her Stay Strong tattoos. I traced the letters on her arm before she pulled them back. "It was hard for me. I felt like cutting away my problems helped, but I learned that I was doing more harm than good." She said. After that, she held my hands into hers.

"If you ever feel like things are getting so bad that you need to harm or abuse yourself in any way, promise me that you'll get help. At least, come and tell me. You can trust me, and I'll always be here for you. Call me, text me, or even better yet come and see me. I will help you through it, or get you help. I love you, and I want the best for you." She said while holding me. I tried my best not to cry. Just to know that someone other than my father loves me? It's a great feeling.

I pulled back, and grabbed my phone. She took it out of my hands, and added her number in before texting her phone. She smiled, and gave it back. "I better get going. She's probably looking for me. Thank you, Demi. For everything. I don't know if I'll ever see you again, but I'm going to tell you that I no longer dislike you." I said smiling. She smiled, and laughed.

I walked out of the house, and into my own a couple of houses down. I don't know if I'm going to be okay with the adoption home or center, but I know that if I keep in touch with Demi, I'll be fine.

I hate to say this, but I secretly love Demi Lovato.

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A/N- Hi there,

It is currently 3:32am and I've been pre-writing some chapter and felt like I should update!

I love writing, and I love everyone who comments, votes, or even just reads! All of you are amazing and the best!

Early update!

-hermosaddlovato