𝗗𝗲𝗺𝗶 𝗟𝗼𝘃𝗮𝘁𝗼: 𝗨𝗻𝗳𝗶𝗹𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗲𝗱

Lionhearts Discontinued Version: Chapters 9-10

Chapter Nine

Gabi's POV

The next day, Demi was on the phone a lot, trying to figure out where I would end up.

My phone, on the other hand, was now pretty much useless. The service had been disconnected, so I could only play a few games that didn't require internet. I stretched out on the bed, phone in hand, when Demi came in.

"Hey, we need to talk."

I quickly sat up, sliding my phone aside and she sat next to me, her dark hair shining in the sunlight from the window.

She looked me in my eyes and sighed, glancing down. "There's no missing persons reports out for you," she said, our eyes meeting. I sadly realized what this meant. My parents didn't care enough about me to want me back. But I probably should have expected it once I realized what happened to my phone.

"Oh." It was the only thing that would come out. Demi heard the sadness in my voice and wrapped her arms around me.

We sat there for a long time until I found my voice again. "So, where am I going?" I was afraid to ask, but I had to.

"I'm not sure yet. But until then, you're staying here. Do you need anything? Food, a drink, anything?"

"I am kinda hungry." I was actually starving, my stomach growling having kept me up most of the night.

"Okay, we'll order in. I'll call you down when it's here."

I nodded, holding in my tears until she left, gently shutting the door. I didn't cry much, but it was enough to leave a wet mark on the pillow. Since I couldn't use my phone, I sat in the window seat and stared out at the backyard. It was just as beautiful as the rest of the house with its sparkling blue pool and vibrant grass. My parents had never cared much for the backyard, since it was just patchy grass and a tree. The tree had a tire swing from the original owners, but I never went out there because I was always scared I'd step in an ant hill or something.

As I continued to stare out, I watched the birds that were flying around, from one tree to another and then back.

I zoned out after a while and imagined sprouting wings of my own. I would be able to go anywhere I wanted and never have to stay one place for too long. Maybe I would be able to find my sister. My brow furrowed as I tried to remember where we had lived.

I'd been so young that I didn't pay too much attention to things like addresses, but I knew we had been born in Virginia. Realization washed over me, along with sadness. I really had no idea if she was actually still there.

My head rested on the glass, cooling my skin where they met. Even if I had wings, I would still be stuck.

There was a soft knock on the door and I lifted my head. Demi came in, looking concerned.

"Hey, I called for you. The food's here," she said.

"Sorry, I didn't hear." I got up, ready to follow her. I wanted to take my phone, but decided against it. "Got lost in my thoughts."

Demi nodded, leading me downstairs. "It's okay. What were you thinking about?"

I thought about the question for much longer than I needed to. Should I tell her I have a twin, or just say I was thinking about some childhood thing I hadn't packed when I ran away? If I told her about my twin, I figured she would say she was sorry, but that wouldn't help me find her. The last thing I wanted was sympathy.

But, in the end, I went with the truth. It was simply because I wanted Demi to know. "I have a twin sister. We were five when I was adopted and she wasn't. When I left with my parents, I didn't know that it would be the last time I saw her."

Demi and I were in the kitchen, the smell of pizza wafting to my nose. She grabbed some plates for us and glasses with ice for the soda. Once I had my plate and drink, I sat down, Demi sitting next to me.

"Gabi, I'm so sorry," she said. There it is. "Okay, new plan: you're staying with me and we're going to find your sister."

I had been holding my glass and raising it to my lips as she said this and my mouth dropped open. My hand also loosened around the glass and it slipped, shattering and spilling Coke and ice all over the beautiful hardwood floor.

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Chapter Ten

Hailey's POV

"I don't wanna go," I said, hiding my face with my blanket but Macy had other plans. She pulled it completely off of me and dropped it near the end of the bed.

"I don't care. You're going. Now get dressed, do whatever with your makeup. We have time."

I gave her a look as I sat up. She was going to my chair, picking clothes up and throwing them back at me. I managed to catch everything before it hit me in the face and I scowled at her back. She stepped out while I changed then came back once I told her I was done.

"I thought you were trying to sneak out or something," she said jokingly, hopping backwards onto the bed.

I had taken a bit longer than I needed because my eyes caught a glance at my legs and I had rubbed the smooth scars. It had been long enough that everything had healed but most of the scars were pretty red still. They only stayed red if they had been a little deeper and I felt guilty for ever doing it. But part of me wished I had done it when I had the chance. I could have folded up a tissue and pressed it to the cuts and used my pants to hold it there so blood wouldn't go all over everything.

I had to turn away from Macy so she couldn't see me squeeze my eyes shut and dig my nails into my palm. For some reason I just couldn't stop thinking of ways to cut and still appear normal to everyone else. Maybe therapy would help.

As I did my makeup and brushed my hair, there was a war waging in my head.

The voices told me not to talk at all.

They told me to say that I was fine.

I was eating, I didn't self harm, I was happy.

I haven't eaten anything more than a yogurt and some fruit.

I have the scars from my self harm.

I'm not happy.

"What time is it?" I asked Macy.

"Three. Why?"

I forced the next words out of my mouth. "I wanted to get something to eat first."

Macy sat up, her mouth stretching into a wild grin. "I thought you'd never say that."

After a long stay at McDonalds, I had eaten ten chicken nuggets and a small thing of fries. I sipped the last bit of my Coke in the car, staring out the window. I could feel the weight of the food, but it had been good and I wasn't hungry anymore. Macy kept telling me how proud she was, and for the first time in a while, I was proud of myself too.