Lovely || Demi Lovato

Broken Things

| • Chapter 20 - Broken Things • |

Oh, I hope some day I make it out of here

A M E L I A

"Hey, Amelia, look at me." Demi said softly, but I couldn't bare to face her hurt chocolate eyes.

"Amelia Faith." She spoke again, taking my hand in hers and sitting down on the bed so the face of her knees touched my own. "I was never going to leave you. You think that when you called me about to commit I would just walk away?"

"You wouldn't be the first one." I sniffled. "Amber, and Destiny, and Jace, they all could care less. My dad could care less. What's stopping you from just deciding I'm not worth the effort?"

Demi sighed as she pulled me into her arms, being cautious of my split palm and healing thighs.

Holding me like a baby, I felt all the comfort I've been deprived of for years. The crease of my knees were laying over her arm whilst her other arm supported my back.

"Your friends Amelia, aren't your friends, and I know you know that. You're father just prioritised your needs in a different understanding." She cooed gently as Dianna looked saddened in the corner.

"He taught me that replacing mental pain with physical pain was how you cope. When I was little and I was upset he would tell me to go hurt myself, bang my head on the wall, pinch myself. Hurting myself is the only release I've ever known." I whispered softly as a tear fell down Demi's face again.

"Seeing a blade, it brought back a lot of memories, Mi. I'm not even going to lie to you about that, but I got these for a reason—" she displayed her wrists to me, "I can't tell you I haven't cut since I've gotten them, but I do know that it doesn't help you too feel any better. You've convinced yourself it does. But; how much work does it take to cover your tracks?"

"I don't." I sniffled and sighed. "I've never hidden what I've done, I've never tried too. I told you Demi, nobody pays attention to me."

Demi sighed and hugged me closer to her chest, her boobs squishing against my face as she did so. I sighed against her, still extremely overwhelmed from the fact that my mother's standing across the room from me and I'm now in the arms of my older sister whose confronting me about self-harm.

"That's gonna change now. You aren't going back, Amelia. I'm going to make sure of it." My mother came and sat beside me, her cold, shaky hands reaching up to brush hair from my face.

I began to sob all over again, clinging to Demi and burying my face in her neck.

This is all too much.

Just two weeks ago I was alone, thinking my mother was dead and my own end was vastly approaching.

"He doesn't know." I sobbed repeatedly into Demi's chest, "I didn't want him to know."

"I know, baby girl. I know." Demi clicked her tongue to the roof of her mouth softly, sounds that would normally make me cringe calming me as she softly made them in my ear.

"Amelia, I'm so sorry." Dianna smothered my head in her hands, her eyes pleading for me to understand.

"You didn't tell him to lie to me."

That's the truth. All of this could have been avoided if he hadn't of lied to me.

He could have told me anything else, but he told me the worst possible case scenario just to avoid me asking about her again.

He told me I had killed her.

"Who ever put it into your head that you killed me, I understand him telling you I passed away, but why would you ever blame yourself baby girl?" Dianna asked softly sitting down on the bed as I sniffled and shifted off of Demi and closer to Dianna, my thigh touching her own.

"He told me. When I asked why on Mother's Day I didn't get to make a card for a Mommy, he told me I had killed you. I had killed you when I was born, and I didn't have one. I would never have one." I sniffled sadly, rubbing at my eyes again until Dianna pulled my hands away.

"You have me now." She whispered softly her voice cracking as tears were soon falling from all three of our eyes.

"We're going to help you, Amelia, but the only way we can is if you help yourself first." Demi exclaimed as I sighed, I nodded encouraging for her to say more.

"I think you should talk to somebody about how you're feeling, if you don't like it, that's okay, but it can't hurt you to try." Dianna interjected.

"I-um- okay." I sighed.

Therapy.

They wanted me in therapy.

This is my nightmare, being forced to explain my thought process to somebody who would evaluate me as crazy or sane.

I hated this.

I hate the anxiety that swarms my brain as I think about opening up to somebody who is only meant to break me.

She's going to break me, to fix me.

This is my actual worst nightmare.

You can't break a broken thing worse then it already is.

•••
So, there's only 4 chapters left. Any guesses on what happens?

- Kyr