Demi's POV
While we were at the mall, I decided to get Avery more clothes. She only had three sets of clothing, and they were not good quality. I still had a lot of money from my singing career, so I was able to spend on this little girl.
We walked into the first children's clothing store, and I already knew it was going to be fun to let her pick out what she liked. She was very girly.
"Demi, how much is all of this going to cost?" She asked, looking up at me.
"Why are you worrying about that?" I asked.
"Because my mom said everything costs money, and that's why I couldn't have a lot of stuff."
I bent down and took her hands into mine. "Well you don't have to worry about that anymore." I got a small smile out of her, and we continued to shop.
Once she picked out some clothes, she tried them on. She was first trying on a ruffled skirt with a cute T-shirt. She was taking quite a while coming out, so I knocked on the door. "Avery? Is everything okay?"
"I can't wear this," her little voice called from the other side of the door.
"Why not?" I asked, but there was no answer. "Honey, open the door." She opened the door just enough for me to enter the dressing room. When I got a good look at her, I noticed bruises and cuts all over her arms and legs. She was trying to hide them. "Why can't you wear that?" I asked, trying to ignore all of her injuries.
"I can't show my cuts and bruises," she mumbled.
"Sweetie, it doesn't matter anymore. Your mother can't hurt you."
"But they look ugly," she said, even more quiet.
I sat on my knees in front of her and took her little hands in mine again. "Nothing about you is ugly."
A single tear rolled down her cheek, and she quickly wiped it away. "The kids at school are going to make fun of me."
"Tell me when they do, and I'll take care of it." I brought my hand up to push her hair behind her ears, but when my hand came near her face, she flinched back.
She looked up at me with disappointment. "Sorry."
"About what?" I asked, not knowing exactly why she was apologizing.
"For being scared."
"Don't apologize. I understand. It's not your fault."
"Yes it is," she said, sadness still present and her head low.
"Why do you say that?"
"If I wasn't bad, my mom wouldn't have hurt me, and I wouldn't have to be scared."
"You are not bad," I said sternly. "You are not bad at all."
"But she said-"
"Forget about what she said. None of it was true. She was the one who was bad." She looked up at me finally. "Don't worry about your mother anymore."
"You really think she was lying?"
I nodded. "There is no way you are a bad little girl."
She smiled a little, which made me smile. "Are you going to try on some more?" She nodded, still smiling.
I left the dressing room, and she came out with every new outfit. She was absolutely adorable!