The Other Lovato

The Other Lovato

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Demi Lovato
Dance Moms
Hi! You may know me, actually no scratch that idea on second thoughts. Who am I kidding? I'm sure you don't have a clue who I am. So let me introduce myself. I'm 15 years old and my name is Kelci...Kelci Lovato. Yes that's right. I'm sisters with the one and only Demi Lovato. But she really doesn't mean anything to me and I'm pretty sure the feeling is mutual between us two. It always has been. I'm the forgotten/talentless sister that nobody cares about. Even my mom hates me even though she doesn't show it I can just tell. She never wanted me. I was a mistake, I was the last child my mom and Patrick had together. My dads dead so don't have anyone to be honest. My friends are great though, I love them all. We have a lot of fun together. Ohh and Maddie & Dallas; They're awesome. We have a laugh together when Demi isn't around. Did I mention I'm a dancer? I'm okay but I'm no Maddie Ziegler. But anyway that's enough about me lets get into my life wish me luck... I'm gonna need it!! But take not that I'm not falling for anyone's lies anymore especially Demi's. I know the truth and that is that no-one ever really did want me and nobody cares about me. OR DO THEY :/ ?!
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Ayrıca sevebilecekleriniz

  • Lovely || Demi Lovato
  • Are you Real?
  • Tell Me You Love Me // Demi Lovato // 1
  • Baby, Don't Cry
  • For the Love of My Sister
  • Help Me, Mom | Demi Lovato
  • Danger Signs // Demi Lovato // 4
  • Hey There Baby Girl [Demi Lovato Fan Fiction]

He always assumes I want money. That money can replace my desire for a mother, for a female figure who will guide me through the darkness. All he can provide is money. He assumes that because I use the money, that I'm happy, that I don't spend night hunched over my toilet bowl physically sick to my stomach with the guilt of killing my mother. He assumes that because I have friends, that the smile on my face is genuine. That because I smile and confidently stride out of my room in a bikini, that I love myself and the way I look. He assumes everything about me, because he doesn't know me. I'm his daughter, and with the simple fact, he assumes that by just looking at me he knows my every thought. Does he know of the blood I spill when I have no other method of coping? Does he know of the times I sit and ponder about what it would be like to go through death? Does he know that when he leaves for work, I cry myself to sleep and wish for a mother? Does he know that I could care less about him? I hate him. But he loves me. Does he know, that through all this mess, I just want a mother. Because according to Disney, mother knows best?

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