Disclaimer: I don't own anything
Translation: Everything with a * behind it will be translated on the end of the chapter :)
The ^ will be explained on the end of the chapter as well :)
'Cause baby you're a firework,
come on let your colors burst!
"So, welcome to your home for the next months." Denise led the girls through the hallway, leaving it to her husband and middle son to carry the girls' suitcases inside. "I hope you will see this as your home." She went through a door at the end of the hallway, leading them into the livingroom. "Nick, Kevin, Frankie? Where are you?" She yelled, and moments later it felt as if the house shook as three pair of feet raced down the stairs. Demi swore she heard yelling at who was allowed to go first through the door.
In the end it was a small nine-year-old looking boy who went through fist, followed by a boy who looked around sixteen, and then one that looked like he was twenty, or something like that. Demi smiled at them, and then nudged Miley in her ribs to make her look up. She heard her best friend grumble something under her breath before she pulled her sleeves over hands, finally looking up at the three boys.
"Hey!" Demi smiled, walking up to the boy who looked the oldest. "I'm Demi, nice to meet you." Her Belgian accent laced her voice again as she went to shake the two younger boys' hands. She was soon followed by Miley, who only stated her name.
"Miley dear, aren't you a little hot in that sweater?"
Miley looked at Demi in alarm before she looked down at her shirt, panic flashing through her eyes. She pulled at her sleeves again, and Demi jumped into action, putting on an obviously fake smile. "No, no!" All eyes in the room, except for the little boy's, were turned on her. "S-she," She stuttered, glancing back at Miley who was hugging herself. "She gets cold really easy! Even when it's like 32 degrees(^) outside, she still whines that it's cold!" Confusion ran through the middle son's, who was in the room, eyes, but realization quickly dawned on him. "So, there's no need to be worried about that misses Jonas."
Miley shot her best friend a thankful look, which went unnoticed by everyone but Demi. "Alright then," Denise smiled. "but please call me Denise, misses Jonas makes me sound old." She laughed. "And take a seat, there's no need for us to keep standing here all day." She ushered the two girls towards a couch, while she took a chair and her sons took another couch.
Demi kept taking glances at Miley, who was looking out of the window absendmindley. "Is it okay for us to unpack first?" She looked at Denise, who nodded and asked one of her sons, the middle one, to make sure they went towards the right room. "Thank you." She grabbed onto Miley's arm, who shrieked and slammed it backwards, hitting Demi in her stomach, who winced at the impact.
It was then that the brunette girl realized where she was, and she gasped as she turned to Demi, who was softly rubbing her stomach. "Oh god, Demi! Het spijt me! Ik wist niet da-(*)" She stopped talking when the blackhead raised her hand, motioning that it was fine and that she understood. "Sorry." She bit her lip as she felt all the eyes in the room on her. She knew it wouldn't take long before a tear would drip down her face. And Demi also knew.
So the brown eyed girl grabbed onto her arm again and pulled her up, smiling innocently to Denise before she went towards the doorway towards the hall, where she waited for the boy to lead them to where they would be sleeping. She took a glance at Miley, who's gray eyes were filling with tears. She knew they were, even though brunette locks framed her friend's face as she looked down. "Het is ok Miley.(2*)" She rubbed the girls arm, trying to comfort her.
The boy, Nick, glanced back at them, frowning as his eyes landed on Miley. He then looked forwards again, stopping in front of a door. "This is you room." He opened it, and saw their suitcases already being placed on the two beds. "I'll leave you to your unpacking." He mumbled, walking away, but not before taking one last look at Miley before he did so.
Demi pushed Miley inside gently, closing the door behind them. She watched as her best friend sat down on one of the beds, her head in her hands. "Miley, gaat het?(3*)" She sat down next to the brunette, who shook her head, shoulders shaking with silent sobs. "Miley," She sighed, wrapping her arm around her shoulders. "Het komt wel goed, dat weet ik zeker.(4*)"
"Nee,(5*)" Miley pushed herself away from her. "het zal nooit goed komen!(5*)" Tears welled in her eyes till they slid down her cheeks one by one. "Ik doe me zelf pijn omdat het goed voelt Demi! Dat is niet normaal!(6*)" She gasped, her voice choking on her tears. "En jij doet alsof het iets is waar ik in een dag of twee mee kan stoppen! Maar dat kan niet Demi, ik ben er verslaafd aan!(7*)" She buried her head in her hands again, her shoulders heaving up and down with every breath she took.
Demi sighed and got up from the bed, walking over towards her suitcase. She knew better than to start an argument with Miley since she found her passed out on her bathroom floor, blood seeping from the cuts on her right wrist, the wrist she always cutted. It had scarred Demi mentally, seeing her best friend lying on the floor, slowly bleeding to death. It had been mere hours after they had an huge argument about Miley's cutting. Since then Demi swore to herself to never let an argument get so out of hand as that one had been. They had shouted at eachother, calling eachother names. Demi had said things to her best friend she would never even want to think about again.
She could hear Miley get up from the bed, rummage through her bag before leaving the room. Demi sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose with her thumb and middle finger. She knew what Miley was going to do, and she felt helpless, knowing there was nothing she could do for her best friend to stop this. Tears welled up in her eyes, but she forced them back, zipping her bag open and pulling a stack of t-shirts from it. She could hear the toilet flush a few times in the distant as she emptied her bag before she went over to Miley's.
-x
Miley stumbled through the bathroom door, making sure it was tightly shut and locked before she dropped onto her knees in front of the toilet, her head hanging above it. She gagged, her whole body shaking as it threw up the few things she had eaten all day. Tears slid down her cheeks at a rapid pace as another gag made her throw up again. She grabbed onto the edge of the toilet, her knuckles turning white from the death grip she was holding it in.
She leaned away from it, sobbing quietly. She shakingly stood up on her legs, leaning over so she could flush the toilet. The rushing sound of the water calmed her in some way, but the noise also made her head pound. She dropped herself back onto the ground, in the small space inbetween the toilet and the bathtub. She grabbed onto the small pocketknife she had taken from her suitcase earlier. She knew she shouldn't be doing this, but it was like a drug to her. It was her addiction.
She touched the tip with her left pointer finger, immediately drawing a small drop of blood. She watched it drizzle down her finger and hand, till it reached her wrist, where it then rested, waiting to dry up. She switched the knife to her other hand, resting the blade against her right wrist, that was visible as she pulled her sleeve up till her elbow.. She blinked once, twice, before she bit her lip, dragging the knife along a white line that was already there. She bit her lip harder, so the cry she made was muffled. Tears welled up in her eyes as she let the blade slip from her finger, dropping onto the floor.
She reached for the toilet paper, tearing a large piece of. The tears that had welled up in her eyes slid down her cheeks as she dabbed the toilet paper at the cut. It turned red almost immediately. She held it in place as she traced a small blood trail down her arm with her eyes, till it disappeared in the inside of her elbow. She took a breath and got up from the floor, walking over towards the sink and turning it on. She took the paper off the cut, looking at it for a few moments before she held her wrist under the streaming water, wincing as the water hit the skin around her fresh cut.
She looked up at her reflection, noticing how pale her face was. Her eyes were red, and here were dark circles under them. She turned off the faucet, looking at the red water that was slowly twirling down the drain. She looked at her wrist, where blood was still welling up from the cut. She picked her pocketknife up from the ground, wiping it with a piece of clean toilet paper before she flushed both that and the bloody one down the toilet, watching them disappear.
With one last look at her wrist, she pulled her sleeve back down, making sure it covered a part of her hand as well. She unlocked the bathroom and slipped out of it, but not before making sure there wasn't a trace of blood left on the floor, or somewhere else. She slipped into the room she had left earlier, noticing that both Demi's and her suitcases were empty, and her best friend nowhere in sight. She pulled the pillow off her bed, placing her knife down before dropping the pillow on top of it. She made sure it couldn't be seen before she left the room, starting her search for Demi.
It wasn't long before she heard her laughing downstairs. She quickly rushed down the stairs, pulling at her right sleeve and making sure she did not stumble down the stairs. Her best friend's laughter came from behind a door, and she opened it to reveal Demi sitting at the kitchen table, along with Denise and Joe. She saw Demi look down at her arm, and she knew that her best friend was able to see the darker spots on her black sweatshirt.
"Oh my," The voice made Miley's eyes snap way from Demi's, looking at Denise. "Miley dear, you look awfully pale. Are you feeling alright?"
The brunette quickly nodded her head, again pulling at her sleeves. "I'm," She cleared her throat. "I'm fine." She saw Joe look at her suspiciously after he noticed that the girl besides him was staring at her. Miley quickly looked down and sat in a chair, which was across from Demi, and next to Denise.
"Are you sure dear? I could make you some tea is you'd want." Denise sat back when the girl next to her only shook her head, looking down at the table. "Alright then." She said, a little unsure.
"Mom!" Nick stormed into the kitchen, a thick booklet with random papers sticking out of the sides in his hand. "Joe stole my notebook again!" He dropped it onto the table, in front of Miley, who jumped slightly at the noise it made as it slammed onto the wood. But Nick didn't notice, as he was glaring daggers at his older brother. "I found it in his room, under his dirty socks." He hissed, grabbing his notebook again.
"Nicholas, calm down, it was just a notebook." His mother shushed, missing the slight blush that crept on her son's cheeks. She then turned towards her other son, who was about to say something. "And for you Joseph, do not steal your brother's things." She got up from her chair, taking her tea glass with her. "You'll do the dishes tonight, alone." She left the kitchen as her son started to protest, stating that he did not do anything wrong.
Nick just huffed, dropping into the seat his mother had occupied moments earlier, taking a cookie from the plate in the middle off the table. "How many times do I have to tell you to not steal my notebook?" He took a bite from the cookie, chewing as he glared at Joe.
"I just want to know what your heart is saying all the time, brother dearest." Joe smirked, but ducked as a small piece of his brother's cookie came flying his way. "That," He looked at the piece of cookie that had still hit him, and was now lying on the table in front of him. "was uncalled for!"
"I'm so glad I don't have any siblings..." The voice made the boys turn their attention to the blackhead next to Joe. She was sipping her tea, looking slightly amused at their bickering. "I mean," She placed the hot drink down. "I would just kill my sibling if he or she stole something from me. Wouldn't you do the same, Mi?" She looked at her best friend as she did not get a reaction. Miley was staring at her fingers, the part that came out of her sleeves, and was twisting them slightly. "Miley?"
The girl's head snapped up, her gray eyes staring into Demi's brown ones. "Hmm?"
"Ik denk dat je beter naar bed kan gaan...(8*)" She stated softly, looking on as Miley nodded and got up from her seat.
Nick was also watching her, and he swore he saw a thin line, or maybe even a few thin lines, run across her wrists when her sleeve rose up past her wrist as she pushed her chair in. He also saw her quickly pull it down before she turned around and left. He stared after her, till she disappeared through the door, letting it fall close behind her silently. He then looked at the brown eyed girl next to his brother. "Is she alright?"
She was silent for a second, looking anywhere but at him. She then sighed and nodded her head slowly. "Yeah, probably just a jetlag or something. She never went out the country, let stand a different time zone." Her Belgian accent laced through her voice again. She grabbed onto her tea glass again, trying to hide the look in her eyes while she drank from it with careful sips.
"You sure it's only that? I don't think someone can get that pale by just a jetlag." Nick looked back at the door again. And when he looked back at Demi he could see something flash through her eyes, but he could not place it.
Make 'em go, ah, ah, ah,
when you shoot across the sky, y, y.
(^): I meant it in degrees, not Fahrenheit.
(*): 'Oh my god, Demi! I'm sorry! I didn't kn-'
(2*): 'It's alright Miley.'
(3*): 'Miley, everything alright?'
(4*): 'It's gonna be alright, I know it for sure.'
(5*): 'No,' 'it will never be alright!'
(6*): 'I'm hurting myself because it feels good Demi! That's not normal!'
(7*): 'And you act like it's something I can drop in a day or two! But I can't Demi, I'm addicted to it!'
(8*): 'I think it's better if you go to bed Miley…'