Behind Closed Doors

Chapter Two

(sorry for the huge delay I've been busy)

February 21, 2015
Today Demi's World Tour started. I wish I could be excited for her, I really do. But I'm not because that means I'll be alone with Wilmer. We're going to some of her shows but the majority of the tour we'll be home. Alone. Together. That is something I'm not looking forward to. Right after Demi left he looked at me with his stupid infamous smirk and I knew I was fucked. I knew what that smirk meant. So I went back into my room, and went to lock the door but he was too fast. Let's just say now my full length mirror is broken and I have cuts all over my body. I really wish I could tell Demi about this. But he said he would hurt her if I did. And I don't want her getting hurt. Especially because of me. Wilmer is passed out drunk on the couch, which means I'm going to have to clean up all his shit.
-Camille

I heard a loud smash and slammed my journal shut and shoved it under my mattress. I knew Wilmer was up. I ran to my bedroom door and slammed it shut locking it. Fuck, what if he breaks the door down? I quickly grabbed a backpack and shoved in a bunch of clothes and my laptop and all my chargers and opened my window. I looked out of it and knew I could jump out of it if I was quick enough. The roof was right under my window.

I quickly threw my backpack out first and jumped out of the window. I jumped off the roof and ran faster than I've ever ran before. When I first met Wilmer I thought he was perfect for Demi. He helped her recover, and I'm really thankful for that. But he changed..he started drinking and sneaking drugs into the house, of course Demi doesn't know about that. If Demi knew about the drugs there was no way he'd ever be allowed near her again.

Demi met him through Voto Latino and they just clicked, I guess, because soon enough they were hanging out off of set. She never shut up about him and how 'hot' he was, despite him being years older than her. She had the biggest crush on him, and made sure that we all knew about it.

Eventually the inevitable came, however, and they starting really seeing each other. He picked her up outside of our house for what they would call, "date nights" every Friday, but I knew that they were only hooking up.

It wasn't until the day that Demi sat Mom and Dad down to tell them and the rest of the family that they were dating and in love that I knew he wasn't like any of her past lovers -- in and out of her life like a pair of underwear. She was serious about him, and vise versa. And I became grateful for him, because he made Demi happy and that made me happy. I thought that he was perfect for her. He helped her get through her recovery, which is something that I never could have really done. Not the way he did.

As soon as Demi came out of rehab my mom let me move in with Demi. She thought, since we hadn't seen each other in a while it was a good idea for us to bond.

When Demi turned 20, Wilmer moved into the house in order to be closer to her. Mainly to add the extra help in making sure that Demi stayed on track with her sobriety, that way she wouldn't live with a bunch of girls in a group home for the rest of her life.

It was cool with everyone, Wilmer was a good man and never made anyone necessarily uncomfortable, until the one day that I just so happened to see him walking home from "work" late one night with lipstick stains on the collar of his shirt. He knew that I had seen them, and threatened me to keep shut about it.

But a few months after I moved in Demi and Wilmer went out and I was left home alone. Demi went to record her new album Unbroken and Wilmer went out with his friends.

Wilmer came home an hour before Demi. He smelled really bad and slurred his words and he couldn't walk very well.

That was the first time he hit me.

He asked me to make him dinner- no he demanded to make dinner. But I was only eleven years old and didn't know how to cook.

He called me a "useless fucking idiot" and punched me in the stomach three times. He told me to not tell Demi or the same thing was going to happen to her. So I didn't.

The abuse just got worse after that.

He would come home after shooting a movie or a TV show and just beat the shit out of me. He would, of course, make me cover up all the evidence with make up. He would never hit my face either because that was too noticeable. So he aimed for my ribs and stomach and legs.

Demi was so oblivious to it all. She was so head over heels in love with him to realize the person she loved the most was beating the crap out of her baby sister, who she promised she would never let anyone hurt.

Now I don't believe in promises. She promised me she would never let anyone hurt me. But it doesn't matter. As long as she's happy, right? That's all that matters anyway.

That's what everyone cares about. If Demi's happy. No one gives a shit about her 15 year old sister. Why would they? I'm not famous. Or pretty. Or talented like her.

Like Wilmer tells me I'm a useless good for nothing piece of shit. And that's all I'll ever be.