Yes I Am (A Demi Lovato Fanfiction) (Lesbian Stories)

Chapter 9

WARNING: THIS CHAPTER COULD BE TRIGGERING.

Demi’s P.O.V.

My hands shook as I twisted open the door handle to the bathroom. Nearly eighteen months clean, but that perfect record was about to be severed. I sat on the floor, I was crying now, but I deserved this. I found my shaving razor and stood on it. It cracked, and I pulled the blade out of it. I almost couldn’t believe I was about to do this. I took the first slice right below the ‘stay’ of my ‘stay strong’ tattoo. How ironic. It felt so good, the release I felt was instant and I felt in control. But then the old feelings came back, and I sliced just below the other one. I was crying pretty hard, and I didn’t react when Amelie ran into the bathroom and took the razor off me, flushing it. Her hands were shaking.

“Stop it” I whimpered as she wiped ointment on my cuts. She put a bandage on my arm and then she sat down beside me and put her arm around my shoulder, pulling my head into hers.

“Let it all out.” She whispered, wiping the tears from under my eyes. She waited until I stopped crying, then took my hand and led me to my bedroom.

“Go to sleep, we can talk later ok? I’ll just be outside in the hall.” She hugged me one last time and I held onto her tight. I tilted my face up till our lips were almost touching. I was going to kiss her.

“Not like this Dem. You’re just emotional and you need to sleep.” She carefully prised me off of her and watched as I clambered into bed and started to fall asleep.

Amelie’s P.O.V.

I hadn't known Demi for that long, but that wasn’t going to stop me from caring for her like I’d known her my whole life. I left Demi’s door open a fraction so I could watch her from the hall. I watched her for at least half an hour as she finally slept, she looked so fragile and I knew I needed to get some help for her. So I did the only thing I could think of. I called her 11 year old sister.

“Hey, Maddie speaking.” She picked up.

“Hey Maddie, it’s Amelie.” I spoke quietly so I wouldn’t wake Demi.

“Hey Amelie, what’s up? Is Demi alright?” I instantly regretted calling her, she sounded really worried.

“Uh yeah, she’s fine.” I lied, “I was just wondering, does she have like a best friend or something? I’m organising a... surprise. For her.” I had to admit, I felt guilty lying to an 11 year old.

“Are you sure? Anyway, her best friend  is Marissa. Do you want her number?”

“Yeah, thanks Maddie. You’re great.” I tried to sound happy.

“Ok, I’ll text it to you in a sec.”

“Bye! Thanks Mad!” I hung up.

She texted me the number and my phone made it’s annoying ringtone. Demi stirred, and I silently cursed myself.

“Amelie?” She called

“Yeah babe?” I said coming into the bedroom.

“What’re you doing?” She asked, I was adding Marissa to my contacts.

“I was just about to call Marissa” I said honestly.

“What? No! How do you know about Marissa?” She sat upright, concerned.

“I called Maddie.” I couldn’t look at her, so I inspected her carpet. It was clean.

“You didn’t tell her did you? She’s only eleven! She doesn’t need to worry about my problems!” She panicked.

“No, I didn’t tell her. Don’t worry hun.”

“But you can’t tell Marissa, please Amelie, she was a wreck last time this happened. Please.” She begged.

“Ok, but we have to talk alright?” I wasn’t going to ignore her relapse completely.

“Fine.” She said, looking down and staring at her wrists. I moved beside her and let her cuddle into my side.

“So what changed?” I asked, pushing hair out of her face so I could see her properly. She sighed.

“I’m just stressed. I’m playing a lesbian on glee, and I don’t want people to figure out that I actually do like girls just yet.” She paused to look up at me, “and I kiss Naya’s character.” She said finally.

“Demi,” I said, looking into her eyes, “tell me what actually happened.” She looked away.

“I’m normally so ignorant of it, but the hate has been getting worse lately. And I don’t know what it was about some of the stuff I was reading last night, but it just pushed me over the edge. I couldn’t eat properly, and then I just had to.” She looked down at the bandage sadly. “I was almost 18 months clean.” The tears started again, but now they were silent.

Demi’s P.O.V.

Amelie left me to get cleaned up, but I knew she was just outside the door, listening to my every movement. I didn’t want to relapse. I felt like a failure, I’d failed my fans, my friends, my family, Amelie and myself. I looked at the bandage on my wrist and I felt guilt, but with the guilt came a desire to cut again. I changed into my comfy clothes and I threw out the PJ’s I’d been wearing. I sat and brushed my hair, Amelie opened the door a crack.

“Are you decent?” She asked

“Yep.” I replied and she walked into my room, sitting on the ground next to me. She leant into me and wrapped her arms around my waist. I leant into her and interlaced my fingers with hers. She smiled, and we sat there for a little bit, just leaning into each other. I started getting up and she followed suit, our hands still together.

“Dem, come have something to eat. Please.” She walked to the kitchen with me. She made me a small sandwich with some lettuce and tomato. My eating wasn’t as bad as it had been in the past, and it wasn’t too hard to eat the sandwich. Then the thoughts came back, telling me I was fat and didn’t deserve to eat. I needed to purge. I got up to go to the bathroom but Amelie stopped me.

“Oh no, you’re not going anywhere for the next 45 minutes.” She said firmly. Enough time for the sandwich to digest. “I know this is hard Demi, but it will be worth it. This is only a little stumble and soon you’ll be feeling better. I promise.” She took my other hand and faced me, looking me in the eyes. “When you’re feeling better, did you want to go on a date?” She changed the subject, a cheeky smile appearing on her face. I smiled. This adorably hot girl just asked ME on a date? Hells yeah.

“Definitely.” I smiled back.