Demi one shots by request <3

Alarm Bells (TW:self harm)

DEMIs POV

I sat on the floor of my hotel room leaning against my bed. It had been a long tiring week so far and tonight was the first time I'd been able to just sit quietly and have a little 'me time'. I was so exhausted both physically and emotionally, it was just four hours ago that my documentary 'Stay Strong' aired on MTV, it was hard to know that the world was watching me tell my story - I wanted them to know me, know my struggles, but still a little part of me was scared and insecure. During the airing I stayed in my dressing room ready for the live Q&A right after... I felt like I was waiting for a sentence to be made on my life, except instead of deciding my future they were judging my past.

The Q&A went well, the fans there were so receptive and asked such good honest questions, I smiled with them, laughed with them and shared their pain. I love my Lovatics. However since walking off that set, getting changed and making my way back to the hotel I've just felt so down, all my worst parts were just shown to the world and it wasn't the nicest feeling, a tiny voice in my head was voicing the regret of exposing myself so openly to millions of people. I promised my team I'd get an early night in before the many interviews following the documentary started the next day, but instead I was just sitting on the floor, staring through the glass at the neon lit city below me. I felt numb.

My phone lit up on the floor beside me, it was a message from my mom;

"We are all so proud of you, you are making a huge difference in this world. Twitter seems to think so to! Have you seen some of the response? Sleep well angel. Xo"

I smiled at my mom telling me she was proud, but her mentioning twitter made my stomach churn. Since those darker days I have kept to the promise I made myself that I would ignore the internet's commentary on my life, but twitter was the space I shared with my fans and I knew they would have plenty to say after the docu and I knew they'd expect a tweet from me...

I gingerly opened the twitter app on my phone and clicked to see what had been said to me over the last 4 hours. I was a little shocked to see that the first message that caught my eye was negative and rude;

"@ddlovato that was such a stunt, she is no rolemodel, she even admitted to still cutting and throwing up, chunky emo little bitch."

I dropped my phone and hugged my knees to my chest, the tears poured freely sobs echoing around my hotel room. I grabbed a pillow off my bed to bury my face in - I did not want any company tonight.

My heart was pounding and my chest got very tight very quick, it was like every negative emotion I'd ever felt were bubbling on the surface waiting to break out in their horribly self-destructive ways.

I felt myself slipping as my eyes darted round the room clocking every sharp item I could find, scissors in the bathroom, cutlery set beside the kettle, a juice glass - I could smash that...

Without thinking I jumped to my feet and grabbed both the glass and the cutlery and ran into the bathroom, the light blinked on automatically as I got to the hand basin and turned the cold faucet on full. The noise of the gushing water was what I had always cut to, it drowned out the nosies in the room, in my head, and it helped wash the fresh blood away almost as soon as it fell into the basin.

I picked up the cutlery first, sure I'd learned a lot from some of girls in treatment about what could be done with a plastic knife but I wanted something more than that, next my hands fell on the scissors - they weren't sharp enough either. Only the glass was left, I gripped it in one hand and the edge of the basin in the other and as I caught sight of myself in the mirror the words of that random tweet echoed in my head 'just a stunt', 'chunky emo bitch';

"Fuck them all," I said outloud to no one but my reflection and raised the glass above my head to throw down at the marbled floor.

A split second before I let go, my phone started to play its irritating alarm tune, it scared me enough to drop the glass and as I sprung back against the bathroom wall I watched it clatter down into the sink breaking almost cleanly in two. I breathed heavy and audibly as silence washed over the room.

Then the alarm went again. I suddenly remembered what that sound meant. How ironic that the alarm to remind me to take my meds sounded just seconds before a relapse into the behaviour it was supposed to keep  under control.  I turned off the faucet and the light before walking back into the bedroom and lying flat out on my back the bed. I felt around on the floor beside me until I had my phone in my hand and could shut off the annoying alarm. Looking at the ceiling the tears began to fall again. What was I doing? I lifted my phone up to look at the screen. Through blurry, tear-filled eyes I could see twitter was still open and I read that tweet one more time. Maybe they were right, my behaviour right now is not one of a role model at all, was I just being fake telling the world I was back and renewed ready to stand up for the broken? It sure felt like I was just as broken as ever.

I pressed the refresh button to see if anyone else had tweeted since then. Wow, I thought to myself, already 800 more responses in that short period of time! I wonder if they would be just as hurtful as the last. Nervously glancing down I saw something that immediately lightened my heart and reminded me why I was doing all this;

"@ddlovato Everything changes for me tonight thanks to you. I thought this was the end of me but now I know it's not. I will get better. #staystrong"