A Symphony of Devotion: The Start [Demi Lovato]

[30] Mamihlapinatapai

Devonne is pulling me to my feet, her voice loud in my ears. "Are you fucking crazy?" I stumble over my own feet, my eyes barely open, but Devonne catches me before I can go crashing to the ground. "Vodka? And you couldn't have told me earlier?!"

"It h-hurts," I manage to choke out, as Devonne literally hauls me along.

"Come on, Kenzie, move! Who on Earth puts vodka in a Neosporin bottle in a first aid kit? Are you crazy?"

Her words barely register in my head through the heavy pounding against my brain, and I give another whimper as jolts of pain shoot up my arm when Devonne drags me to the sink.

I struggle to get out of her grip, but she meets with minimum trouble as she holds my body up and pins my arm to the sink at the same time.

"Let me go," I protest weakly, as tears roll down my cheeks. "You're hurting me! Let me go!"

"The pain means it's working," Devonne says through gritted teeth. "It's getting rid of the bacteria in your flesh. Vodka is close to the rubbing alcohol they use in clinics."

"Then why are we at the sinks?" The words leave my lips in screams. It's pain like no other.

Devonne turns the tap on. "The alcohol also kills the living cells in your arm, and you can't lose any more blood cells than you already have. Keep still, will you?!"

There's determination in Devonne's voice. Determination that I've never seen as intensely in her before.

But my legs give out beneath my body in seconds, and I'm so tired that I can't keep myself standing. It's burning even more now. I want to nothing more than to die now. Or to pass out and feel the bliss of nothingness for a few hours.

"Kenzie!" I'm being yanked to my feet again, but Devonne is basically supporting my entire weight. "Do you want it to hurt more?"

I shake my head blindly as I continue to cry. "It hurts," I mumble, as Devonne starts dabbing at the cuts with a wet cloth.

The next hour is agonizing. First, Devonne searches through my first aid kit again, and throws a fit when she finds out that it's full of alcohol in medicine bottles and cocaine in pill form in pill containers. Then she starts cleansing my arm with antibacterial soap and water. When I can't take the pain any further, I struggle from her grasp and curl into a ball under the sinks.

Devonne crawls into the tight space with me and bandages my arm.

I'm fully crying by then. Loud sobs that escape my lips and shake my whole body as Devonne hugs me to her and strokes my hair.

I'm not going to die. But is living that great that I'd want to do so as well?

Suicide seems like a pretty good idea now. A gun to my head, a bullet through my skull. How sweet it must be to feel all the pain at once, then, never again.

I'm trying to live my life; I'm trying to be happy. But how do I fix the mess that is in my mind when there's a storm in my head and it's killing all the flowers?

I know the answer.

I can't.

I won't.

I don't.

And it hurts me to finally have come to this conclusion, but in a world where my movements and actions are so insignificant as compared to other greater beings out of the seven billion humans that walk the planet, what purpose do I have in an attempt to affect the people around me in a more positive way? None.

So it's over, then. I'm done. There's no use.

My breathing slowly creeps back to a somewhat steady pattern as the tears stop coming. I feel strangely at peace. Like nothing can affect me now that I'm not going to let it.