Demi's POV
I should've been with Mac. I should've gone with her to the park. Then none of this would've happened.
It's all my fault.
You're right. It is.
"Shut up," I thought. "I can't deal with you right now."
We know. But we can help. You have a pencil sharpener in the---
"Stop. I'm not going to. I can't."
Do it.
"No"
Yes
I screamed.
"Demi? What happened?" Mac sounded worried.
"Nothing baby, I'm fine."
"No you're not."
"Yes, I am."
"Whatever you say, Demi."
"Thank you," I said, relieved. "How's your foot?"
"Hurts. Bad."
"Okay, well, we're here. Can you walk, or do I need to carry you?"
"There's no way I'm walking," she said, and I picked her up and carried her inside the hospital.
"Hi, I'm, Demi Lovato. My daughter hurt her foot. She needs an x-ray."
"We'll take her right in," the receptionist at the hospital said. She dialed a number and called for a doctor.
A few minutes later, a doctor came into the waiting room and said, "Demi Lovato?"
"Right here, my daughter needs an x-ray."
"Great, we can take her now."
"Thank you." I stood up and carried Mac into a beige-ish/white room and set her down on the unnaturally sterilized bed.
Damn it, I really hate hospitals.
"We're going to do the x-ray, and it might take a couple of minutes to get full results. It shouldn't be long," the doctor said.
"Okay. Great," I replied.
The doctor and a few nurses took the x-ray. As the doctor looked at the x-ray, Mac and I sat in silence, well, silent except for the constant drone of the air-conditioning, which was much too cold.
The doctor came back in with a few sheets of paper, what I guessed was the x-ray, and handed them to me.
"She has a broken ankle and a stretched tendon. She'll need a small surgery to make sure the bone is back in place and will be on crutches or in a wheelchair, your choice, for the next 3 months. She's pretty banged up."
Wonderful.
Mac had a piercing look of fear on her face that could scar a person for life. I was by her side in an instant, holding her hand and whispering in her ear, "You'll be fine, sweetheart. Everything's gonna be okay."
After a few seconds, the look of absolute terror disappeared from Mac' face and I asked, "When's the surgery?"
"MacKenzie can choose when she wants to do it. The sooner the surgery, the sooner MacKenzie is out of pain."
Mac cringed at the use of her full name and corrected the doctor. "It's Mac."
It was impossible not to smile at the fact that Mac could still correct people on her name even in a crap ton of pain.
