What A Magical Miracle (Criss Angel)

The Best-ish Night Of My Life: Part 1

*Sean's POV*

My alarm goes off at 9:05. I wake up slowly, letting my alarm continue beeping as I stand up beside my bed. I look over to see my mom, there is vomit on the floor beside her bed. I close my eyes, remembering the things that were said last night.

"You're gay, aren't you? Why haven't you come out yet? You haven't had a girlfriend, this is no surprise." My mom says, laughing. I was truly hurt. My mother has been my rock, my go-to person and I love and care for her, and this is how she repays me? By getting drunk and calling my sister and I terrible names that will scar us? I can't help but remember what she said to Carrie.

Pathetic. Obsessive. Immature. Helpless. Horrible.

My mother knows that Carrie used to do to herself, but still says that to her. I don't understand why.

Now that I think about it, I should wake Carrie up, its the day we see Criss Angel! She must be very excited.

I go to her side of the bed, planning to shake her awake. I want her to be happy today. I hate seeing her upset.

"Carrie, wake up." I say to her, shaking her a little. Her eyes flutter, but stay shut. She moves a little, but refuses to wake. As she moves, her arm falls from under the blanket. It\s tightly covered in a tension bandage. I'm slightly confused. She she hurt her arm last night? How did she get this? Did her bring it herself? I ask myles many questions before lightly grabbing her arm. I lift it slightly to get a better look at it. I can see light bloodstains on it.

Did Carrie...?

Oh no.

I run to her bag quietly and dig through it, hoping not to find anything that will make my assumptions true. I go through every little sidebag. But then I find something strange. There's an extra zipper that looks a little unusual. I quietly unzip it, and slowly take the contents out. I pull out bandaids, a large amount of them, I find a container that should contain a tension bandage, and I find a small blade. A blade from a pencil sharpener or something other. Dried blood covers the sharpest edges of it. I put these things down in front of me, and put her things back in her suitcase. I take them and walk to the bathroom. Locking the door behind me, I drop the tools on the bathroom counter and with my back on the door, I slide down to the floor, crying. I don't want my little sister to hurt herself anymore. She told us she was clean. Has she been lying to us? Why would she do that? I feel terrible doing so, but I blame my mother for her actions. What my mom did was cruel. I feel a light knocking on the bathroom door.

"Sean, are you in there?" Its Carrie. I need to confront her. And take away her tools.

"I'm in here, one second," I tell her in a shakey voice. I inhale and exhale slowly to calm my heartbeat, and I open the door. Carrie walks in and sees my red, puffy face.

"Sean, are you okay?" She asks. All I do is look at the counter. Where she tools lay. She brings her hand to her mouth and gasps as she starts to cry. "Sean I am so sorry. I can't do it anymore." She sits on the floor and cries heavily. I kneel down to her and assure her that everything is okay. I remind her that today will be the best and the happiest day of her life. She looks up at me and smiles. I guess she forgot about that.

"Carrie, you seriously can't do this anymore, this is so bad for you, your health, and well-being." She looks up at me, wipes her eyes, nods and smiles.

"I can try...?"

"You will try, and you will get clean, Carrie." She looks surprised from my stern voice, but she agrees not to do it anymore, which I know probably will be broken, but as long as she is trying. We get up from the floor, wipe our tears and I grab Carrie's harming tools from the counter. She is never having them back. We walk out of the bathroom to see our mom wade awake and looking around our hotel room.