"Three..." (Demi)

28.3K 144 9
                                        

ATTENTION: Trigger warning. Please note that this is a trigger warning. I promise that all of you are worth love and adoration towards your bodies, and you should never hurt yourself because of how you think of yourself. Please don't hesitate to call this number, the suicide hotline, if anything, thoughts, feelings, comes into your mind: 1-800-273-8255 (this is the US suicide prevention hotline, just so you know), and don't hesitate to send me a message, because I will always be there for you. Thank you, enjoy the imagine.

Guys, please, if you're Reyna or know who I'm talking about, (she was previously lovinbieber1212) let me know her new account, I want her to see the imagine!

Heard the new Journals songs on tumblr... <3 so amazinggg

~hope you guys like this imagine, it's one of my favourites~

~~~~

*Demi's POV*

I forced myself to look in the mirror at my reflection.

How could I possibly be so ugly and useless?

Fat. Ugly. Useless. Worthless. Annoying. Dumb.

My hand trembled as I reached for the blade that rested on the sink beside me.

Don't do it. 

Don't do it.

I don't need to hurt myself. I am beautiful. I am.

No.

I'm not.

My eyes watered with tears and they blurred my vision.

I pressed the blade to the skin of my wrist.

It stung.

It was my first time cutting myself - ever.

It hurt, but it was no more than the hurt I felt every moment of every day.

It wasn't just beliebers... It was everyone. Hate.

Hate, hate, hate, hate.

'God Demi your so fat.' 

'Why would Justin ever date someone as lame as you? He deserves someone so much better.' 

'You're worthless, why are you even here anymore?' 

'Can you just die already?' 

'God can you try to not be a stickup bitch? Please!'

Justin noticed the hate I got, but I hid how much it really affected me from him. I'm not really sure why..

I looked down at my wrist.

The once clear and pure patch of skin had now been disrupted and ruined with blood and scars.

Three fresh scars sat on my wrist.

"Demi! Babyyy!" Justin called as he knocked on the door.

My heart stopped. He isn't supposed to be home yet!

In a frantic, chaotic rush I tried to hide away the blade and wash the blood from the sink.

As I tried to put the blade back in the drawer it fell from the sink, splattering blood across the white shower and walls.

More tears fell from my eyes.

No. No. No. No.

He can't see the blood. He'll know what I did..

I tried to wipe the blood from the walls and shower furiously with little luck.

Justin was now pounding on the door.

"O-o-one second!" I called back.

"Open up right now! Demi! I know something is going on in there!"

"Wh-what? No! N-nothing is going on-n." I kept stuttering.

God. Stop stuttering you're being so dumb and stupid Demi.

My emotions took over and I collapsed in a heap of sobs. I was wailing and Justin could hear it.

"Open up..please," He pleaded softly.

I gave up and turned the lock, opening the door to justin.

His eyes widened when he saw me on the floor and blood everywhere.

Instead of scolding or questioning me, he sat down too, only so he could pull me into his lap. 

His strong arms wrapped around me.

I rocked back and forth in his arms. His face was buried in my black hair.

After ages of absolute peace, he pulled me out of his arms and forced my eyes to his.

"Demi." He said sternly. I tried to look down and away but he wouldn't let me.

"I don't know why. Well, I mean, I do.. But, I don't know why you'd resort to this. You're so strong."

"But I'm not. Maybe it seems like that on the outside, but I'm not. I'm so weak. And vulnerable. And insecure. I hate myself." I say quietely.

I see tears glint in Justin's eyes.

"Please. Please." He pleads. "See your beauty. Your perfection. It's there. It's prominent... Don't hate yourself. You're worth so much more.. Demi.. See that. You're worth something to me. Forget that, you're worth everything-you are everything to me."

I press my lips together and Justin lifts my wrist up to look at the scars that will never fade. 

He counts them quietly. "Three. Hmm, three.."

Before I can reply he presses his lips against my cheek. "One." He mutters.

He presses his lips on mine. "Two."

He presses his lips on each of the scars. "Three."

<3

Justin Bieber Imagines {Requests Closed}Where stories live. Discover now