Don't Tell Mom- Demi Lovato

[14] Open the Door.

CHAPTER 14- Open the Door.

Izzy's POV 

     The next morning I woke up and stared at the ceiling. I felt empty, and violated. I glanced at my clock and nearly fell out of bed, 11:49. 

"Marissa!!!" I yelled. 

She ran into the room, "What happened?" 

I pointed to the clock, "Why the hell am I just waking up?!" 

Marissa leaned against, the doorway and put a hand over her heart. 

"Jesus, don't scare me like that! I reset you alarm last night, you looked exhausted. Plus, Demi is coming home today and I thought you could use the mental preparation." 

I sighed, "Maybe you're right." 

        About an hour later, the door opened downstairs. 

"I'm home!" My mom called, and began to climb the stairs. "Izzy?" 

My door handle jiggled, "Izzy open your door!" 

I squeezed me eyes shut as she banged on it, "Isabella Noel, open the door- Aliah get the damn key." 

A few minutes later, the lock clicked and she walked in proudly. 

"You lady, when I tell you to open the door you open the door." 

I stared up at the ceiling as she spoke, and she walked into my view. 

"Are you deaf? Look at me when I'm talking to you!" 

I couldn't, looking at her would surely kickstart the tears and the screams that I was desperately trying to hold back. One glance at my mom would break down all of the walls i'd spent the entire night trying to build. 

"Fine. You're grounded. Give me your phone." 

My hand didn't move. My limbs were locked so I didn't curl up into a ball and hug her, spilling out my guts in the process. 

"Isabella Noel. Give. Me. Your. Phone." 

Again, I was motionless and she grabbed my chin to force me to look at her. 

"What the hell is wrong with you?" I stared with dead eyes into her angry ones. 

"Izzy?" She murmured, in a much softer tone. My sanity was holding on my a thread, the silence was the only thing that kept me from screaming out to her. I yearned to b held by her, to have her tell me that everything is going to be okay, for her to tell me that she loves me over and over again. But, a part of me reminded that yearning that she wouldn't care. 

"Iz, what's wrong?" She looked at me with a worried expression, then sighed when mine didn't change. 

"Fine. Don't talk to me then." With that, she walked out, slamming the door behind her. 

All I could do was curl up into a ball and finally cry, but don't tell mom. 

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-Rachel