Chapter Twenty-Eight

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Kessie opened the door to Demi's room, an excited look in her eyes at the thought of cheering up Demi.

She was greeted by a dark room and the sound of Demi crying.

"DemDem?" Kessie said softly - using the name she had first heard Maddie use in a feeble attempt at saying 'Demi'.

"Go away," Demi replied. You could hear the tears in her voice.

Demi was sitting on the floor, leaning against the bottom of her bed.

Her knees were pulled up to her chest, her arms leaning on them.

"Demi, what are you doing?" Kessie asked, edging closer to her cousin.

"Making in better," Demi answered.

She didn't sound like Demi anymore though, she sounded like a zombie.

"But you're bleeding!" Kessie said, now becoming worried. "I get Aunty Diana?"

"Am I?" Demi signed, looking down at her arms in wonder.

Her nails were penetrating her skin, making little droplets of blood roll out and down her arm.

"I get Aunty Diana?" Kessie repeated, louder this time.

"NO!" Demi screamed suddenly, scaring Kessie. "DON'T YOU DARE!"

Tears now spilled down Kessie's face, she didn't understand.

"I g-get D-d-dallas?" She stuttered nervously.

"No, you get OUT!" Demi screamed again, beginning to get up.

Kessie backed away in fear. Putting her hands out in front of her face for protection.

"But you're bleeding, Demi! That's not okay," Kessie protested.

"It is! IT IS OKAY! Do you understand me?" Demi cried, coming closer and closer to Kessie.

"It is okay," Kessie repeated weekly. "It's okay if you hurt yourself, or if other people do too?"

"Who cares anymore," Demi sobbed. She threw herself on her bed, crying into her pillow.

Kessie wanted to go to Demi, but she was too scared in case Demi started yelling again.

Instead she ran out of Demi's room and back to Dallas in tears.

"Hey Kessie, what's wrong?" Dallas asked worriedly, pulling Kessie onto her lap.

Kessie shook her head furiously, refusing to say.

Dallas just had to sit rocking the young girl, wondering what had happened.

Tears streamed down Demi's cheeks, more coming every second.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Kesha! I didn't mean it," she cried.

Her eyes were fixed on the cuts that were littered all over her cousin.

"It's not! It's not okay," Demi sobbed. "What have I done? I taught my own cousin that it's okay to hurt yourself and that it's okay to let people hurt you!"

"You did a lot more than that," a voice whispered. "You taught me that you can't trust anyone, that people always let you down..."

Demi looked at Kesha, realizing that she must have woken her up.

"I didn't know..." She whispered fearfully.

"Of course you didn't know, Demi! You were never around!" Kesha said, anger slithering into her voice.

She sat up and walked to the bathroom, beginning to wash the tears from her face.

"Baby girl, I-" Demi began.

"Please," Kesha interrupted. "Don't call me that."

Demi looked at Kesha, heartbroken.

"I really thought we were getting somewhere," she whispered.

"I was vulnerable," Kesha shrugged. "You took advantage of that..."

Demi signed, looking at Kesha silently. She didn't know what to do!

"Kesha, I am not going to hurt you ever again. I can see that I have before, if I could take it back I would! Please, just let me help you!" She begged, holding onto Kesha's shoulders.

"Fine." Kesha said, looking Demi in the eye. "If you can fix this, stop me from having to move around with my parents, then I'll forgive you."

"Really?" Demi squealed, going to hug her.

"Yeah," Kesha said. Her voice had a cruel tone to it though. "Good luck, Lovato. You're going to need it."

With that, Kesha left.

Realization hit Demi the moment the door closed.

How was she supposed to reason with Kesha's parents? It was an impossible task.

"I'm going to need expert help," she decided and pulled out her phone.

Scrolling through her contacts, it wasn't long before she found who she needed.

"Hey, Mumma?" She said down the phone. " I need help!"

Demi spoke to her Mum for a long time, but things weren't looking promising.

It seemed like her Aunt and Uncle weren't reasonable people.

How can someone reason with the unreasonable?

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