Demi's point of view

I never intended to become a bad girl. In fact, up until I was fourteen I was a perfect child. I got As in school, didn't drink or do drugs, I didn't have sex. I often pitied people that healed themselves through self-destruction. I could never understand why people felt the need to seek enjoyment through alcohol and drugs.

Anyways, as I was saying. I did not mean to become a bad girl. Towards the beginning of freshman year, my life took a turn for the worst. My dad died in a car accident, and I was devastated. I was always a daddy's girl. I was spoiled rotten by him. My mom didn't take to his death well. She began taking it out on my sisters and I. She would beat us, spit on us, call us names, and make our lives miserable. She took to heavy drugs like cocaine and heroin. She was also a heavy alcoholic. When we started running out of money due to her new addictions, she began prostituting herself. She used most of the money on herself so often times my sister and I would starve and go without electricity and heat.

Dallas got a job about 6 months later and became our mother figure. She made just enough to pay for the bills and food. We also used food stamps when we had to.

I remember Maddie wanted to play soccer and through tears my sister had to explain to her why she couldn't.

All of this made me turn to self-harm. I began cutting. I cut everywhere that there was flesh to cut… well you know what I mean. I began to see myself as ugly because kids at school would tell me so. They'd say I stink because I don't have water to shower in, and I was ugly because I couldn't afford nice clothes.

The cutting was enough for me until the end of sophomore year.

I had my first boyfriend during Junior year. His name was Trace Cyrus. He was not a good guy at all. He was the one that got me hooked to drinking and drugs. He made me do cocaine when I was with him because he would beat me if I didn't.

I don't know why I let him treat me that way. I guess because he threatened to kill me if I left and part of me always longed for him. He was my bad boy. He wanted me when every other guy thought I was the nastiest girl in school. He was in love with me, or so I thought. By dating him, I became a part of a group. Before I was just the loner. I mean sure, it was the wrong group to get involved in but it was a group.

I'm a senior now. I'm still with Trace and I'm still a bad girl. I don't care though. It takes my mind off of my horrible life.

"Demi, get up!" Dallas yells at me from the hallway. "You're going to be late for school!"

I groan as I roll out of bed. My head hurts like hell from partying last night. The hangover is so bad that I know for sure I'll throw up if I get up.

Dallas comes in my room, unsatisfied with the pace of my awakening. "What are you doing? Do you want to be late?"

"I don't feel good," I whine, "I don't want to go."

"What's the matter with you?" she asks concerned. She knows I was out last night but she doesn't know about my drinking and drug problems. At least I don't think she does. She never brings it up.

"I think I have the stomach bug," I lie. "I don't feel good at all."

Dallas groans and places her hand on her hip. "You're sick all the time Demi. Why don't you let me take you to the doctor? We can afford a doctor appointment."

"No Dal, I'm fine." I reassure her, "I just need the day off to feel better."

"Fine but you're missing way too many days. You're not going to get to graduate with all these absentees. Anymore, and we're going to the doctors."

I nod in agreement and lay back down in bed. Dallas retreats from my room and goes to wake up Maddie. I lean over my bed and grab my crappy flip phone off the beaten up bureau.

I have four new text messages. They're all from Trace.

"You going to school today?"

"Babe, wakeup I know you're awake at this time."

"Why the hell are you ignoring me?"

"Whatever, I'm so done with u."

I roll my eyes as I text back.

"Just woke up. I had to tell Dallas why I'm not going to school."

I put my phone back down on the bureau and grab the bottle of aspirin that is also on it. I take four and lay back down. I hope this headache goes away.

I hear the phone buzz and I pick it up.

"Text me when Dallas leaves and I'll pick you up."

I text him back a lot quicker than he texts me back. "I can't, Dallas has the day off."

Trace doesn't answer after that. I'm sure he's pissed and I'm sure I'll hear about it when we hangout next time. I sigh and rollover on my pillow. I'm just going to sleep the day away.