(Sierra's POV)
When I wake up the next morning, it's unusually quiet. I get out of bed, grab my outfit for the day, and enter my bathroom. I take a quick shower and change into a grey sweater and black leggings. I lace up a pair of brown combat boots and finish off my outfit with a scarf and a ring shaped like an elephant. I brush out my hair and leave it down to dry naturally.
I leave my bedroom and go downstairs. I find Dianna in the kitchen cooking breakfast and all three of the sisters sitting on the couch in the living room. Eddie is nowhere in sight.
"Morning, Sierra," Dianna greets me with a smile.
"Morning," I reply, ignoring the hungry cries from my stomach.
Nobody is talking to each other, only staring at the television screen. Some crime show or something is on. I wonder what happened last night after I went to bed. Has the tension from yesterday still not dissipated?
A ringtone snaps everyone out of their depressed-looking state. I see Demi reach for her phone and look at her screen. With an eye roll, she answers the phone.
"What?" she rudely snaps.
I can't hear what the other person is saying, but apparently Demi's not too happy to be talking to whomever it is. I see her cover the mouthpiece of her phone and turn to Maddie.
"Babygirl, would you mind going up to my room and grabbing my iPod?" Demi asks sweetly.
Maddie nods and hurries upstairs to Demi's room. Demi puts the phone back up to her ear, and I'm guessing whoever is on the other line has a lot to say. Maddie comes back downstairs a few moments later with a shiny iPod in her hand. She gives it to Demi, who then scrolls through it. I watch as Demi cranks up the volume of the device and holds it toward the mouthpiece of her phone. Music starts to play and is shortly accompanied by lyrics.
"You wanna play, you wanna stay, you wanna have it all. You started messing with my head until I hit a wall.."
When the song is over, Demi turns off the iPod and returns the phone to her ear.
"In case you didn't get my message there, I really don't care," she states bluntly before hanging up her phone.
Demi turns her phone off, throws it onto the recliner, and returns to watching the television as if nothing ever happened. Dallas looks like she wants to say something, but she fears her sister's personality as much as I do.
"Demi, are you okay?" Dallas asks hesitantly.
"Why wouldn't I be?"
Dallas nods, not commenting any further.
"Breakfast is ready, girls," Dianna says.
Dallas, Maddie, and Demi make their way to the table. I just remain seated on the couch.
"Sierra, are you going to eat?" Maddie asks from her seat.
I nod, even though I'm not too sure that I actually will eat. Maybe just a nibble of something. As I head to the table, I watch in disgust as Dianna sets a plate of eggs, bacon, sausage, and toast in front of me. I take my fork and poke at the food. My stomach grumbles, and I mentally curse it. Why the hell does my body seem to enjoy making me even fatter than I already am? I glance up and notice how everyone's looking at me with slightly worried gazes.
"What are y'all looking at?" I ask.
"Why aren't you eating?" Dallas asks.
"I'm just not that hungry, I guess."
"But you didn't eat lunch or dinner yesterday either," Dallas states.
"Sierra, you told me you ate lunch," Dianna pipes up.
"I did," I quickly defend my lie. "Dallas, you weren't with me all day yesterday. Demi and I got something to eat at the mall, right, Demi?"
Time seems to slow down as I hope and pray that Demi will just go along with my lie.
Demi's icy gaze scares me a little. She's not saying anything, just staring.
"Demi, did you and Sierra eat something at the mall?" Dianna asks her daughter.
To my relief, Demi breaks her staring episode and turns to her mother. I nervously wait to see if she'll back up my lie or not.
"Yep," she replies emotionless.
I resist the urge to breathe out a sigh of relief.
"Well, alright, but you still need to eat something, Sierra," Dianna warns.
"Okay," I agree, not wanting to raise any more suspicion.
I take a bite from the toast, chewing the buttered bread down to a pulp and managing to swallow it. I continue to repeat the cycle until the piece of toast is gone. I do the same with the eggs and even to a piece of bacon.
"I'm done," I announce.
"Okay. You can be excused if you'd like," Dianna replies.
I get up from my seat and hurry to the downstairs bathroom, not caring at the moment that they can all see me nor that they can possibly hear what I'm about to do. The only thing on my mind is throwing up the food that I just ate. I lock the bathroom door behind me and lean over the toilet, purging the contents of my stomach until I feel empty. I flush the toilet and wash my mouth out before leaving the bathroom and heading straight to my room, wanting to avoid seeing the family for a while.
Once I reach my bedroom, I pop a mint into my mouth and grab my blade from under my bed. I lock myself in my bathroom and strip out of my clothes until I'm only in my undergarments. I leave several cuts on my body, then clean up the blood, put my clothing back on, and slide my blade into my pocket. I exit my bathroom and return my blade to its hiding spot.
I finally return to the living room, where Maddie and Dallas are watching television.
"Where's Demi?" I ask.
"In her room, but the door's open, so I assume she's not pissed off or anything," Dallas replies.
I nod. I decide to go upstairs to ask Demi for that scale. She might have one, and if not, I suppose I can just go buy one or something.
"Demi?" I ask, knocking softly on her door, which is already open like Dallas said.
"Yeah, Sierra?" she asks, looking up from a notebook that she was writing in.
"This is a strange question, but do you possibly have a scale so that I can weigh myself?"
I watch as her face contorts into an expression of alarm, worry, and concern.
"Why?" she questions.
"Like I said, I want to weigh myself."
"But why do you want to weigh yourself?"
Because I'm fat.
"Because I want to maintain a healthy weight."
Demi hesitates slightly.
"Fine, but you can't tell Dallas that I have a scale," she says.
"Why?"
"Because she just worries about me too much," she replies in a tone that indicates that she's done discussing the matter.
I have a feeling she's lying, but for what reason would she lie about something as simple as owning a scale? And why can't I tell Dallas?
I shake the thoughts away as Demi leads me to her bathroom and points out the scale to me.
"I'll be on my bed," she says, walking out of the bathroom and shutting the door behind her.
I strip out of my clothes and hesitantly step onto the scale. As I'm waiting for it to beep, my inner demons start whispering.
You'll break the damn thing.
You shouldn't have eaten that breakfast.
You're fat.
You're stupid.
Beep.
I look down at the number. It disgusts me.
"Damn it," I curse, feeling anger course through my veins as I resist the urge to throw the scale across the room.
I am stupid, fat, worthless, and pathetic. I don't deserve this life that I have. I need to cut and purge until I'm completely weightless. I need to stop eating. I need to stop living.
I can feel tears streaming down my cheeks, and I don't even try to stop them. I silently sob on Demi's bathroom floor.
I crawl around the bathroom in search of a razor that I can pull a blade out of. I end up finding a single blade almost identical to mine in a makeup bag in one of the drawers. It makes me wonder if Demi cuts, but I banish the thought away. Why would somebody as perfect as her cut themselves?
I slash each of my wrist three times, followed by both of my sides and both thighs. Afterward, I just sit on the floor with my back pressed against the wall, continuing to sob silently and watching as my blood flows freely from my cuts and drips onto the tiled floor.
A quiet knock causes me to tense up.
"Sierra?" Demi asks.
"I-I'm almost finished," I fail to speak clearly through my tears and nerves.
I scramble to my feet and quickly try to clean up my blood.
"Are you okay?" Demi pries.
Why does she act like she cares about me now?
"I'm fine," I reassure her.
I manage to clean up all the blood and slide back into my clothes. I return everything to its rightful place and take one last look around her bathroom. It looks like I never even came in here, thank god.
I unlock the bathroom door and open it only to find Demi standing right there, waiting for me.
"It's all yours now," I say in what I'm hoping is a light, carefree voice.
She just stands there staring at me. Her scrutinizing gaze causes me to fidget uneasily and look down at my feet. Just as I start to think that she's suspecting my secrets, she shakes her head and returns to the notebook that lays on her bed. I take the chance to slip out of her room, and only when I'm walking down the stairs do I dare to breathe out a sigh of relief. That was close, way too close for my liking.
"Where did you go?" Dallas asks me.
"Just to see Demi," I say with a shrug.
"Listen, Sierra, she may seem like she's warming up to you, but she's not. She just doesn't warm up to people; it's just the way she is. She'll go right back into one of her bitch modes soon enough, and I don't want you to be negatively affected by it."
"I won't be," I say, trying to reassure both her and myself.
Dallas nods but doesn't comment any further.
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