You Can't Choose Your Family ➸ Demi Lovato

{Chapter 43}

Trigger warning

After re-watching the scene from Ferris Bueller's Day Off that Wilmer had cut short, I got up from the couch announcing I was going to go take a shower. I hadn't showered for days and although no one's mentioned it- I'm certain I stink. I feel like I should have flies encircling me, like cartoon trash cans do.

"Wait," Demi spoke up as I was midway out of the door, "I'll need to help you change your bandages." The existing unpleasant issue that had been pushed from the forefront of my mind for a bit (being distracted by Wilmer's news about Joel) suddenly dawned upon me again.  My left arm immediately felt like it weighed a ton, laden down by the excess of bandages wrapped securely around it. A wave of self deprecation cascaded through me, I still can't believe I did this to myself. Even though I've marked my skin time and time again over the past couple of years, this was to a whole other level. I can't explain how I feel about it. A mixture of frustration, guilt, annoyance and disbelief. Emotions which I had been pushing to the back of my conscious but now, being mentioned, immediately surfaced. Right now, hiding under my bed covers seems like a more than appealing way to deal with all this.

Demi followed me up to the bathroom, situated across from my room, after collecting a box full of medical kit from downstairs. She instructed me to sit on the closed toilet seat as she began to fish through the abundance of bandaids, Tylenol and throat lozenges.

I tapped my foot impatiently against the slate marble flooring of the bathroom. I just wanted to get this over and done with. No doubt seeing the damage for the first time will be somewhat triggering. Wanting to fast forward time became an appetising idea. Unfortunately no one's created the means of time travel yet. Seriously I think they should prioritise the advancement of that over-

"Can you start unraveling it?" Demi instructed, braking me from the peculiar path my train of thought was heading down. Sometimes I doubt my sanity. Fuck this shit- who am I pretending to be?! I am no way in hell sane! My arm's covered in stitches!

I cautiously took a piece of tape off the outer layer of bandage, tugging it slightly to make it unstick itself. I unwound the material from round my lower arm. I braced myself for the visual that was shortly going to appear. However I was pleasantly surprised when I found none of the cuts were visible. A long bit of gauze/bandaid stuff covered the length of my forearm. I let out the breath I was subconsciously holding.

Demi was still digging around in the first aid box so I jabbed her lightly in the side to get her attention. She turned round, her eyes not focusing on me.

"Should I take this off too?" I asked, handing her the bandages I'd just taken off. I don't know if I'm meant to throw them away or wash them and re-use them or whatever. I'm sure she'll know.

"Yeh. I have some more gauze here." She replied in a dreamy tone implying that she was spaced out. She tapped the large piece of gauze sitting on the counter next to the carnage of the medical supplies strewn around the basin.

I carefully started to pick at the bandaid from the end near my elbow. It was incredibly well glued to my skin and so it took a considerable length of time to reveal the extent of my self destructive actions.

My older sister had become absorbed in her phone, her thumbs clicking away at the screen. The involuntary gasp that escaped my mouth when I saw the tens of stitches in my forearm caught her attention well enough. She looked over at me, her eyes becoming incredulously wide as they locked on my left arm.

My attention was fully on my older sister by now, I had seen enough of the mangled skin and red gashes. Demi had covered her gaping mouth with the hand which wasn't gripping her phone. Her eyes were still very much resembling those of a rabbit caught in headlights but I could distinguish tears welling within them.

Seeing Demi like this, I rapidly grabbed the gauze Demi had laid on the counter previously. I placed it over the wounds, feeling slightly nauseous at seeing my arm again. I then took the medical tape from besides the closed medical box. I tried tearing a bit off but I just couldn't do it. With one hand holding the gauze in place and the other holding the tape roll, I didn't have the means of actually cutting it.

Tears were rolling down Demi's cheeks by this time. Her stare was still transfixed on my temporarily concealed arm. It was starting to slightly freak me so I tried calling out her name to knock her from her frozen state. She didn't respond, not even when I basically shouted 'Demetria' at her. I was only a mere half metre away from her so she could obviously hear me. Or maybe not in this dazed trance?!

I shouted out Wilmer's name in panic and within 10 seconds he was at the bathroom door. How the fuck did he manage that freaking long flight of stairs in that short amount of time?! It takes me a full two minutes! Plus he's not even out of breath. I am literally in the presence of some kind of superhero...

I snapped out of my stupid, lighthearted thoughts when I heard a gentle thud. Demi was wrapped in Wilmer's arm on the floor in front of me. Sobs shuddered throughout her whole frame. Shit why the fuck had this affected her so badly?

I carefully slipped out of the room, still clutching the gauze to my arm. My mind was now running a mile a minute. I'd caused Demi to have some sort of breakdown and I really don't understand why. If anyone was to breakdown over seeing that it should've surely been me? It's my body...

I sat down on the top step of the staircase Wilmer had just climbed so swiftly to gather my thoughts. I could hear Demi's sobs faintly from my position and Wilmer mumbling something incoherent. Well it probably wasn't incoherent, Wilmer's an intelligent guy but from this distance it sounded distorted.

A long while later and the couple appeared from the bathroom. The doorbell coincidently rang at the same time. Demi dragged herself down the stairs, walking bedsides me without giving me even a glance. I heard her greet someone downstairs as Wilmer plopped himself down beside me and engulfed me in his strong arms.

"Is she okay?" I asked timidly, still confused about the breakdown but more so worried about my sister.

"Yeh she'll be okay mija," Wilmer reassured me, rubbing my shoulder, "everything that's happened recently just caught up with her. She's really worried about you," he continued sincerely, giving me a sympathetic smile, "and I think that was somewhat triggering for her also."

I internally kicked myself for being so obliviously stupid. Of course it would trigger her. It had momentarily slipped my mind that she had a past in this shit too. It's not apparent in her character at all, she's so bubbly and happy all the time. I can't even imagine her being a sad recluse like me.

But despite being annoyed at my inability to read the situation, my heart warmed at the fact Demi had reacted that strongly. It's solid proof she cares about me. Obviously I'm not delighted she broke down in the process but it shows she really fucking cares. She hasn't given up on me. She still cares.

***
I found wifi earlier than expected so here you go :)
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