A BEAUTIFUL STRONG BLOND ANGEL

I hear keys ringing, thinking its Joe I approach the door to open it for him. I open the door and find a little 9 year old girl with dirty blonde hair braided in pig tails trying to sell Girl Scout Cookies. Thin Mints were my weakness. I bought three boxes and gave the girl a couple extra dollars.

"You gave me two more dollars than I needed ma'am." Her eyes met mine and she suddenly knew who I was. "Don't lie to me ma'am, but are you THEE Demi Lovato? Like off of Camp Rock?"

A slight chuckle left my mouth. "I know who she is, no need to specify what she's off of!"

"But are you her?" she was a persistent little thing, I'll give her that. I really didn't feel like taking pictures right now.

"Yes, I am Demi Lovato, The girl from the Camp Rock movies." I couldn't help but smile, knowing Camp Rock is still what I'm most known for.

"Can I have your Autograph? Please?" this little girl was so adorable how could I refuse.

"Sure! I think I have some pictures left over from meet and greets that I can sign. Come on in!" her eyes lit up as she dashed inside. Her facial expressions were filled with awe as she did not know how fancy this apartment complex was.

"Make yourself at home, let me go find a good picture!" I saw her make a beeline for my white couch, she sat in one spot and dared not to touch a thing of mine. I already had pictures printed out with the Heart Attack cover art on it. I grabbed one and sat on the couch next to her.

"So what's your name sweetheart?" it had been so long since I said sweetheart.

"It's Mitchie, just like off of Camp Rock! I know it's weird, but I didn't choose it." For a 9 year old she wanted to talk a lot!

"No, it's pretty cool! So Mitchie, what do you like to do in your spare time?" for once, I was the interviewer.

"I like to listen to music, walk my dog Anna, and visit my sister."

I finished signing my picture when she said 'Visit my sister'.

"What do you want to be when you grow up?" I said as to ignore her hobbies.

"I want to be a dancer, but not Hip-hop, Contemporary, like my sister!" before I could ask, Mitchie stood up and began twirling around the room like a ballerina. It was the most precious thing I had seen in a while, and it kills me to say that Mitchie is a more talented dancer than me.

"So why do you visit your sister? Is she old like me and lives kinda far?" I used the simplest words my mouth could form.

"No, She'll be 17 next month." Concern fell on the Angels face.

"Then where do you visit her at?"

"She's lived in a Treatment Center since she first turned 15." Tears began spilling out of her eyes, almost like a broken fountain. I ran to the bathroom, grabbed the box of tissues, and returned. She didn't hesitate to grab one and put it to her eyes.

"If you don't mind me asking, why is she there?"

Almost immediately she stopped bursting, "My sister, her name is Ryan, has had a lot of troubles,"

"Like what?" I wanted to do anything in my power to have Mitchie leave here with her best day ever. Hopefully a heart to heart will help.

"Well, basically she was addicted to pain, any type. She was Bulimic, Anorexic, pulled her hair out, and pricked herself with needles. You name a pain, she felt it. But when she was around 14 I remember she had a boyfriend, I think his name was David, but im not sure. Anyways, she had been most addicted and relied the most on cutting herself. Later on she told me it was just the quickest. She was bullied everyday throughout her school life. David was the only one who made her feel 'worthy'. One day David noticed the various cuts on Ryan while they were making out. HE. HIT. HER!"

Oceans of tears flooded her face, I brought her close to me, knowing that all she needed was a hug. She emptied herself almost to the point of dehydration.

She continued without me asking, "He hit her right across the face, because she cut herself. He told her not to do it again. But she did. So for like 6 months I think she was in an intense abusive relationship with deeper issues that he never knew about. Our parents aren't really observant. I mean heck! I came to an apartment complex all alone to deliver cookies! They never noticed her scars or bruises or her lack of eating. One day she forgot to lock the bathroom door."

Sniffles erupted from her nose. I handed her another tissue.

"I slowly opened the door not knowing if she was using the bathroom to take a bath or whatever. I saw her push her finger down and throw up. I remember standing there in shock. I don't think she heard me open the door over her now soft tears. I remember her laying down on the ground holding her stomach. Right when I was going to leave, I saw her pull out the steak knife from downstairs. She.. sheee…. She sliced her stomach!"

"Shhh, its okay. Shh, its okay darling." The only comforting words I could scramble together.

"The next day I went on the computers at school during lunch time and found a treatment center for my sister. I called them and asked them if they could stop by the following day to take her to get help. Once I got home, I noticed my sister head into the bathroom. I didn't dare bother her now knowing what she was doing. I went in her room, and grabbed 8 different outfits for her. I retreated to my bed room and assembled a wardrobe. The next day they came while Ryan was in the bathroom, again. I handed the bag to the nice pudgy fellow, Larry was his name I think. I told them to come it. They waited till Ryan was done and Larry grabbed her hand, not forcefully.

'WHO ARE YOU? WHERE ARE YOU TAKING ME? MITCHIE DO SOMETHING! MITCHIE!' Ryan's screams still echo into my soul.

"Mitchie, you can stop." Tears were falling off my face as well. Being able to see what my sister must have felt when she saw me being taken away, not even sure what for.

"No, I must finish. So once they strapped her in, I sat in the van next to her. She looked at me with disgust.

'WILL SOMEONE PLEASE TELL ME WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?'

'Ryan, you are going to a treatment center.'

'Like Demi?'

'Yup'

'Why?'

'Because you need help and I can't stand to see you suffer.'

"I remember Ryan sobbing so hard she couldn't breathe. She pulled me in for a hug and whispered Thank You into my ears as Larry took me out of the van."

"So… sh.. she's been.. been in treatment.. for like.. like 3 years?" I was trying to hold back my tears as not to provoke Mitchie to have a nervous breakdown over her sisters experiences.

"Yeah.." she said it without a tear in her eye, perhaps she cried them all out.

"Why did you feel the need to share that story?"

"Because even thought my sister still needs help, so do you."

"What do you mean?"

"I already noticed the cut on your elbow, and it doesn't look accidental. I thought you would need to have some encouragement, knowing you're not the only one."