"Demetria." It was like whispering into a empty, hollow cave. Although my voice was barely audible, it echoed off the four walls of the confined bedroom that she had hid herself away in. "Demetria."
Her attenuated figure was hunched over in the dim corner, clothes too big adorning her body, unwashed strands of hair hiding her pale face, while the rest tumbled down her back in knots and matted clusters.
This wasn't Demetria, this was an empty shell of who she used to be. A broken doll that had been moulded one too many times into the picture perfect Disney Star, a doll that had their childhood taken from under their feet as an adolescent and thrust into the cruel world of tabloids, unreal perfections and heartache. And finally, the doll had cracked. Years of bruises, betrayal and rejection had left irreparable damages, ones that could only be hid through uses and abuses of substances and the unwillingness care of facing death.
Which lead to this moment in time.
Our one last chance to save her.
-
You had received the phone call at three in the morning, while you were wallowing in your own self-pity because your insomnia just wouldn't let you sleep. As soon as you heard your phone vibrate and light up the un-illuminated bedroom, a room you hated because it reminded you of everything you lost- everyone you lost, you read the name on the screen and felt it hit you in the pit of your stomach.
Not quite knowing what it was but if you were being contacted, it was bad. Had she followed through with the silent threats? Had she succeeded? Had she been hurt by one of the fame leeches that only accompanied her for the money and status?
"Hello?" Your voice wasn't your own but you had no time to curse yourself out over it as soft sobs echoed through the phone line. "Dianna?"
"We need you- I need you- SHE needs you."
"Dianna-"
"She needs to go. This is the last chance and she HAS to go. She has to get better. I don't want to wake up and have to bury my daughter. I don't want to be scared. She needs to go."
Broken cries filled the silences in her rambled pleads for help. "I'm on my way."
-
And here you was.
Standing in the foyer of the mansion in the hidden hills of Los Angeles, nothing but peace in contrast to what was happening in the city below or the confinements of this house.
"Thank you for coming." The man of the family spoke as you tried to ignore the small elements of this room that brought back simpler times, happier times.
Simply nodding your head, unsure of what to say until the four-legged fur ball came hurling at your feet, wagging his tail in excitement at your arrival but even the animal looked exhausted about the string of events. "Hi Batman."
Squatting for just a second to stroke the pup, you could feel the numerous pairs of eyes above you, watching and wishing you could go upstairs and bring down the family member and friend they once knew. All you had to do was hope they truly weren't that naive.
Without saying a word, you glanced at the De-La Garza/Lovato family, wrapped up in each other's limbs as they comforted one another. Out of your peripheral vision, you saw the many members of Demi's team. From make up artists to personal assistants, to management to even best friend and business partner Nick Jonas. You couldn't help but think you were a last resort, the final desperate attempt.
And with that thought, you ascended the marble staircase, taking a left at the top then heading towards the last door of the corridor. A path you had walked many times, sometimes with her in your arms, sometimes with her racing in front of you, teasing you as she shredded clothes on her race to the bedroom.
