• you're a warrior • { demi lovato fanfiction }

- chapter seventeen -

Sierra's p.o.v 

Oh hec no. I am not going to school. No way. Nope. I kept my head low and squeezed my eyes, refusing to cry. Demi lifted my head up gently and gave sad, small smile. "Baby. You know I have no choice. I have to send you to school." I quickly shook my head. She took my hands in hers. "I'm sure this school will be amazing. There's a strict policy for no bullying. They had a section where kids commented their thoughts on the school. And all of them were positive. And I'm sure you'll make friends easily." With that, I snapped. "I don't even want to make friends!" I shouted, feeling the anger boil in me. Demi flinched back at my sudden burst. Demi opened her mouth to say something, but I wasn't done. "I could care less about making friends!" I said raising my voice even more. Demi just sat there looking at her bed. She muttered some things under her breath that I couldn't hear. "Regardless if you want to make friends or not, you still have to go." She said softly, looking up at me. I narrowed my eyes in anger. "When do I start?" I whispered. "Tomorrow." She quietly said. One day. One day until I have to go back to it all. One more day where I can feel more worthless. One more day where I'll be mentally and physically harassed. I walked slowly out of her room, taking it all in. I was drained out of energy. But that's good. I don't want to feel the emotions. If I can feel like this everyday, I won't have to feel the pain they'll weigh on me. I layed down on my bed and rolled my sleeves up, looking at and tracing my scars. Why? That was the three letter word I asked myself everyday. With each scar brought a story. A story I wish wasn't true. I remember the first day I self harmed. I kept telling myself it was no big deal. Considering it wasn't deep. Just on the surface. The scar was gone within a week, but the story still lingered...

•  flashback  • 

I started to back against the wall as he started to come closer. "Don't try to run away. It won't help." He whispered with his deep and husky voice. We were completely still. I looked into his eyes. His eyes showed so much hate. So much anger. "I don't know why you pray for a loving home." He said, bringing me out of my thoughts. "Kids always expect to get what they want, when they want. They're not scared of the world. They don't face the reality that you have to grow up and depend on yourself. No, they seem to think their parents will take care of them for the rest of their lives. They think life will always be rainbows and sunshine. Well guess what? That's not true. So now you're going to face reality." He said inching closer. "Do you want to know what reality is?" He asked, now near inches from my face. "Pain." 

Before I knew it the impact of a beer bottle hit my face. I shrieked, sinking to the ground as the pain started to grow. He gripped onto my arm and yanked me up. "Open your eyes, this is the real world." He said. I knew I had to so I opened my eyes. He looked straight into my eyes. He smacked my face, and slammed me against the wall. "In real life, you get shoved about. You never have a safe place to land!" She shouted. He picked me up and threw me across the room where there were many, many nails on the ground. His force was too strong, it sent me flying across the room. Unluckily I landed on the nails. I let out a yelp, using all my strength to crawl away from the nails. I felt another object hit my head. A pvc pipe. My arms gave out and I collapsed on the floor. "How does reality feel? Not good? Well get used to it." He said. He picked me up, and I immediately tensed up. He opened the door, and threw me on the concrete. I felt pain flood through my body.  I didn't have the physical strength to do anything properly. He slammed the door shut and I heard the lock click. This didn't feel like reality. It felt like a nightmare. I knew reality threw things in your way, but I was always told to get through the maze we call life. Not live with the pain. But he was an adult. He knew what was real, right? I felt a tear slip out of my eye, and immediately scolded myself. I shouldn't cry. I forced back the tears, and let out a shaky breath. But how do you get rid of this pain? There has be someway... "Pain." A voice whispered in my head. I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion. How could you get rid of the pain by pain? I asked myself. It was completely silent, except the crickets chirping in the night. I looked at the groud and looked at a sharp rock. I stared at it as my hands involuntarily reached for it. I fumbled around with it in my fingers. "How do you feel emotionally?" The voice asked in my head. "Hurt..." I mumbled aloud. "Subdue the mental pain by inflicting physical pain on yourself." It said quietly. I took the rock in one hand and looked at my other wrist. I was waiting for an urge, just to know it was the right thing. "Do it." The voice urged. I slowly took the sharp rock to my wrist, and harshly dragged it against my wrist, all cautiousness put to the side. I took it away and felt relieved. The stress the pain, it all slipped away with a simple cut. I looked at my nine year old wrist, with one imperfection. A pain reliever...