Chapter Five

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Demi crept upstairs to Kesha's room, trying not to make a sound. She looked into a few rooms, not knowing which one was supposed to be hers. She was exhausted and wanted a rest, the jetlag was starting to kick in.

Demi stopped short when she found herself looking into Kesha's bedroom.

Kesha was fast asleep and was cuddling a small battered toy Dalmatian, it was Lucky from the Disney film 101 Dalmatians.

Demi remembered her and Dallas giving it to Kesha for her first birthday! It was adorable that Kesha still slept with it. She hadn't been able to sleep without it when she was little.

Demi ran into the spear bedroom, hearing loud sobs coming from the room.

Kessie was laying in her bed, crying her eyes out and clutching her duvet like her life depended on it.

"Hey, what's up baby girl?" Demi asked, going over to her. "Don't cry! Tell me what's wrong and I promise I'll fix it for you!"

Kessie nodded sleepily, yawning before answering Demi.

"I-I-I can't f-f-find Lucky," she sobbed miserably. Demi hugged her tightly.

"Shhh Kessie, everythings okay. Look, I'll find him for you."

Demi smiled at the memory. She remembered that they toy had just rolled under the bed in the end. Kesha had been so grateful to Demi for finding it!

Demi missed the way it had used to be, the days when Kesha had actually liked having her around.

Kesha stirred in her sleep and snuggled closer to Lucky for comfort. Demi smiled and was about to leave the room.

She suddenly stopped when she noticed something black laying, abandoned on the floor.

She slowly went in to examined it. Creeping across the room, so as not to wake up her sleeping cousin.

It was Kesha's hoody. Demi picked it up and began to fold it neatly for Kesha when she eventually woke up.

Suddenly something fluttered out of the pocket and landed on her foot. It was a battered piece of paper.

Demi opened it up and smiled down at it. It was a picture of her and three year old Kesha. Dallas was in the background, sticking her tongue out and holding baby Madison. Demi remembered it being taken, the last day Kesha had ever come to visit her.

Demi had begged Dallas that day to get it developed before Kesha went home, they had only just got it in time!

"Wow," Demi thought. "I can't believe she kept this for so long!"

Then she folded the picture up again and put it back into the pocket of the hoody. As she did this, she noticed something that had been written on the tag of the hoody.

Property Of Dallas Lovato

Underneath that Demi read her own name in Dallas' handwriting. Then underneath her name was Kesha's name written in Demi's handwriting!

Realization hit Demi as she suddenly realized which hoody this actually was...

"Here Demi," Dallas said to Demi. Demi had just arrived home from school in tears because people were bullying her, saying she was fat.

"Listen, you don't need to cry. You're not fat!" Dallas insisted, earning a violent shake of the head from a sobbing Demi.

"This hoody is age fourteen. It will cover you up so nobody will be able to see how big or small you are. You are definitely NOT fat, but maybe this will help put a stop to your bullying!" Dallas told Demi, pulling off her hoody and handing it to her little sister.

Demi grasped the hoody tightly and clutched it to her.

"Thank you, Dallas!" She said gratefully.

"Maybe now nobody will see all the fat that's attacking my worthless body," she added silently in her head.

Tears pricked Demi's eyes as she remembered how much the bullies had affected her.

However, it upset her more when she remembered why she had given her previous present from Dallas to Kesha just six months later.

Kessie was starring at herself in Dallas' full-length mirror. She was clutching her stomach, digging her sharp little nails roughly into it.

"Hey baby girl," Demi said cheerfully to her. "What are you-" She stopped short when she noticed what Kessie was doing to her stomach.

"Stop that right now!" She gasped, horrified. "Why are you doing that, baby girl?"

"Demi? A-am I....fat?" Kessie whispered fearfully, beginning to cry as she spoke.

"What, no way!" Demi cried, worried why Kessie would even think that. She sat on the bed, pulling Kessie onto her lap as she did so. "Who says you're fat, sweetie?"

Kessie refused to answer Demi, making her even more distressed.

"Kessie, you HAVE to tell me! I can help you!" She insisted desperately. "Kessie you are not allowed to think you're fat, okay? You can't ever think you are, because you're NOT!"

"But I heard you think you're fat when you're not," Kessie whispered. "If you think you're fat, why can't I think I am?"

Demi's heart had broken that day, because she knew Kesha was right.

If she thought she was fat, why couldn't Kesha? She had been a hypocrite to tell Kesha not too.

She had given Kesha the hoody to prove to Kesha that she didn't think she was fat, so that Kesha wouldn't ever believe that she was fat too. Also to prove to Dallas that she was 'okay'. Although, clearly she hadn't been okay at all.

Now it seemed like Kesha wasn't okay anymore either.

But what could Demi do about it?

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