"Demi?" my mom calls my name.

I'm still laying on the floor. I don't want to get up, but I guess I have to.

I have to, because I'm laying in my own piss, and there's a puddle of throw up next to me, and it's starting to smell gross.

I lift my head up from the floor.

My head hurts so badly.

"Mama!" Madison hollers. She's coming up the steps now.

"DALLAS!" my mom screams.

"what?" Dallas says from inside the bathroom.

"I TOLD YOU TO TELL DADDY TO KEEP MADISON OUTSIDE!" my mom screams at Dallas.

"….Wass wong wiff emmy, mama?" Maddie asks.

Dallas comes from out of the bathroom and scoops Maddie up and takes her back downstairs.

I feel bad that Dallas is getting hollered at.

After my headache subsides, I scrape myself up off the floor and walk to the bathroom.

I feel lightheaded and sick.

I stumble into the shower and turn on the water with my clothes still on.

I slide down the wall of the shower and sit there under the hot spray in my pajamas.

My mom is cleaning up my puke, and that's enough to make anyone feel bad.

I rest my head on the soap holder of the shower and close my eyes.

I haven't slept in a week, and I'm tired. But I don't want to sleep.

I open my eyes a little, and see bloody water running down my arms.

I trace the source of the blood, and it's my lip.

I must've been chewing on my lip without knowing.

I don't even care about my mouth. I close my eyes again and think.

I think about how I'm gonna tell Mandy.

I need to tell Mandy that we need to take Selena's suicide to the authorities.

I'd help her if she needed it.

I have to explain to her how Selena's suicide wasn't suicide at all. I'm calling it a murder.

And her murderers are Rebecca Santos, Paul Richards, Brooke Paulsen and Samantha Lewis.

They need to be punished.

Selena may have killed herself, but they were the ones that drove her to it.

And I blame them. I blame them every single day.

They are murderers. They made my best friend kill herself.

They tortured her to the point of her death, and I will never stop blaming them for it. Ever.

Nobody should be driven to commit suicide.

And I think that if we present this to the police department, they would punish her bullies. They would punish her murders.

Surely Mandy has seen the video.

Maybe she hasn't.

But I was gonna make sure she did.

Selena's death wasn't just a simple suicide.

I believe she was murdered.

When I wake up, I am in my bed, wrapped in my quilt, in fresh clothes with a bucket next to my bed.

I don't remember going to sleep.

I guess I fell asleep in the shower while I was thinking about telling Mandy what I think.

My head feels better, and I don't feel sick.

I get out of my bed and walk downstairs.

My parents are both in the living room, Madison is coloring at the coffee table, and Dallas is on the computer.

"Good morning, Demi. Did you sleep nice?" my mom asks.

I look at the clock. It's not morning. It's 7:30 at night.

I nod softly.

"Are you hungry honey? Dinner's on the stove. I made macaroni and chicken fingers…your favorite." She says really softly, as if she's trying to keep me from flying off the handle.

I shake my head and sit down in the recliner in the living room.

I curl up on it and try to watch what's on TV.

"Get in there and eat dinner, Demetria. You haven't eaten in almost five days." My dad says firmly.

"Eddie…" my mom snaps at him.

"I'm sick of it, Dianna. She's wasting away. She's lost thirteen pounds in five days, she walks around like some type of zombie, and she doesn't speak to anyone. The least she can do is eat a piece of chicken and some macaroni." He snaps back at her.

My mom comes over to me and holds me close to her chest, as if she's shielding me from my dad's words.

"Her only friend in the world DIED, eddie. Give her some time. She's grieving."

I close my eyes.

I just want to disappear.

"It's okay, Demi. If you're not hungry, you don't have to eat. But you gotta drink something for me."

I just nod, and she leaves to get me a juice box.

I feel like I'm gonna burst into tears.

"Jordan stopped by, Demi. He asked to see you, but I told him you were sleeping. He told me to tell you he'll be back tomorrow after school. But he wants you to call him." Dallas says.

I nod slowly.

My mom fumbles with the straw on a Capri Sun and hands it to me.

I don't take a sip.

"When do you feel like you can go back to school, baby?" she asks.

She puts the straw in my mouth, "Drink."

I shrug to the school question, and suck on the straw. I take a small sip and swallow.

"Dallas?" my mom says.

"Whaaaat?" Dallas answers her, audibly annoyed.

"Will you take some of this spaghetti over to Mandy and Brian?"

"….I guess so, mom."

I bite at my index fingernail until it bleeds.

"Demetria, will you STOP with the bleeding?" my dad nearly yells at me.

Normally, I would say something smart back to him, but I just start crying.

Nobody understands how this feels. I lost my best friend. My very best friend. Nobody will ever understand how this feels.

"Eddie, leave her ALONE." My mom yells.

"Dianna, she's EATING herself!"

That doesn't sound like a bad idea. Maybe I can gobble myself up.

My mom and dad scream at each other for a couple more minutes before I get tired of it and decide to get up and go upstairs.

I bring my phone upstairs with me, and sit in my bedroom closet.

It's dark in here, and I don't mind.

I need somewhere where I can cry without being bothered.

While I sob, I decide to call Jordan.

He answers on the second ring.

"Demi?"

"…."

"Hi…i…um….brought your school work over today. But you were asleep. I miss you…"

"….."

"Demi, you can talk to me. Your 'no talking' rule can be broken with me…"

"….."

"You don't have to talk either…. I just really miss you."

"…."

"Can you make at least a little noise for me?"

I pop my tongue off the roof of my mouth.

"There you go. When are you coming back to school?"

"…"

"Too much talking? I'm sorry. I'll be over tomorrow after school. Please don't be asleep. I really wanna see you…"

"…."

"Demi?... d… do you just….wanna break up?... I feel like I'm a bother to you…"

"…..no" I whisper so soft I'm surprised he hears.

"You don't wanna break up?"

"…."

"I'm sorry for assuming you did. Um…if you're feeling better by Friday, do you wanna go see a movie?"

"…"

"Okay, we'll talk about it tomorrow when I come over. Miss you and Love you, babe."

"….you too." I whisper again.

He hangs up.

I'm bored now.

I go through my phone as if I don't already know what's in it.

I go through my calls.

Seven missed calls from Jordan, three from Dallas, and one from…on December 1st at 1:03 a.m.

I throw my phone at the wall.

I hate this phone.

It's old, slow, gay, gay, gay, and it NEVER rings loud enough.

My phone isn't broken.

It is still in one piece.

I grab it and snap it in half instead.

I want it broke.

I cry for a little while longer before I finally get up from my closet.

I walk downstairs, and set my broken phone on the table in front of my mom and dad.

"…What the HELL did you break your phone for?" my dad screams.

I lay back in my spot in the recliner and ignore him.

"I know you're upset, Demi. But that's NO EXCUSE TO BREAK THE SHIT WE BUY FOR YOU!"

"Eddie…" my mom tries to calm him.

"No, Dianna. HOW MUCH ARE YOU GONNA LET HER GET AWAY WITH?! WHY'D YOU BREAK THIS, DEMETRIA?"

I bite my lip so hard I cry.

"Leave her alone, Eddie. Leave her alone."

"NO. ANSWER ME, DEMI. WHY DID YOU BREAK THIS FUCKING PHONE?"

I bite harder on my lip.

"ANSWER ME."

I bite harder.

"I SAID ANSWER ME, DEMETRIA."

"…because!" I finally say. It's not a loud voice. It's actually strained.

"BECAUSE WHY?!"

"…she called me…she called me….and I didn't answer it. She called me…. She called me…..she called me…..she called me…." I'm sobbing buckets of tears now.

"…oh, demi…." My mom says. She comes over to me and holds me again.

My dad is speechless.

"she called me…..and I never answered….i didn't hear the phone ring…STUPID PHONE." I scream.

My mom is rocking me and rubbing my back.

"…..if I answered….i'd talk her out of it. I'd be able to talk her down….but she called me…and I didn't answer….a half hour before she did it…..i didn't answer….i didn't answer….i didn't answer…."

I hate that phone.

It was slow.

It was a flip phone.

It had an antenna.

It told the time.

It sent text messages slow.

And it NEVER EVER rang loud enough.