Demi Lovato Imagines

A Birthday To Remember

TW - this story contains detailed scenes of self harm, read at your own risk.

"And I hope Y/N's not been giving you any back talk Dal?" your mother asks your aunt, who shakes her head and laughs. You fight the urge to roll your eyes.

"No Dem, everything's all good here. Right Y/N?" your aunt Dallas asks, and with all your might you put on your signature smile before looking at your mom through the phone screen.

"Yep, everything fine mom."

"Good. I'm back from tour in 3 days, the last thing I wanna hear is that you're being a stroppy teenager" she replies with no hint of sarcasm or anything. Not even an 'I can't wait to see you'. You swear your mom hates you or something.

"No mom. As I already said, everything is great" you snap back, not even caring to hear what your mom has to say in response.

You're sick and tired of her making you out to be some god awful child when she leaves you every other month to promote a new single or go on tour. Not once do you get invited along. You always end up having aunt Dallas babysit you. You're 17 tomorrow for christ sake.

"I'm going to bed. I'm tired. Enjoy the rest of your mom" you say dryly, giving your aunt Dallas a kiss on the cheek before making your way upstairs and into your bedroom.

You don't care to wait to hear what your mom has to say. She doesn't care what you have to say clearly, so why should you?

You begged your mom before she left 2 months ago to let you go with her and that you missed hanging out with her. Her response? That you're nearly an adult and you can't be stuck to her hip all the time. Can you believe that? What a joke.

Well while mommy dearest has been performing to fans in sold out arenas across the US and Europe, you have been craving the love and attention that all her fans receive on a daily basis. You can't even remember the last time your mom hugged you.

Growing up, she was the perfect mom. She was caring and always made sure that you knew how loved you were. You would hang out all the time and she would take you everywhere. But by the time you reached 14, it changed. You started to change because things were happening that you didn't understand; that you still don't understand. You have days where you feel hyper and over-alert to everything around you, and days where all you want to do is sleep.

That's probably one of the reasons your mom seems to be so pissed at you. You've managed to sleep through about 5 of your scheduled facetime calls so now she schedules them through your aunt Dallas, who makes sure you're here for them. Not once though did your mom ask you why you've been sleeping so much. She would just give you shit for not being more organised and conscious of other people's time.

So now, as you sit in your room and hear the faint laugh of your mother coming from the phone downstairs, you can't help but cry. Cry for the mother you had growing up. Cry for the mother who would tell you every night how much she loved you. Cry for the mother who promised she would always be there. Because where is she now huh? Where is she now that her own flesh and blood spends every night mutilating her skin out of sadness and frustration and of not knowing what the fuck is going on in her head? Where is she? Nowhere.

A knock on your door breaks you from your haze, and you shakily pull your hand away from the mess on your thighs and arms.

"Y/N, you okay baby?" your aunt asks softly, and you find the strength to stand up, wincing at the pain that shoots through your limbs.

"Yeah aunt Dal, I'm just exhausted" you reply before applying pressure to the fresh wounds. Not deep enough yet anyway.

"Okay baby, well I gotta head home but I'll call you tomorrow alright?" she says through the door, and you quickly roll down your sleeves and pull up your pyjama pants before opening the bedroom door slightly.