Demi's Story. Chapter 7. (WATCH VIDEO!)

watch the video please! lol enjoy!
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October 23. 11 AM.
I walked down a dark hallway. On the walls, there were numbers. The walls were made out of numbers. I took another step, and it created a loud "boom" noise. I look down, and realize that the floor was made of numbers. I was walking on numbers. They were cracking, with every step I took. This hallway was dark, but at the end of it.....no, there wasn't even a light. There was no magical door at the end of the hall that would lead to a beautiful, perfect, heaven. It was just all darkness. The only thing I could see was numbers. I ran down the hallway and the numbers went higher. I stopped, and started running the other way. The numbers were getting lower. I felt better about that. I wanted to keep running until I reached the number 0. Maybe there was a door at that end of the hallway?
"Demi....wake up..." a voice said.
"mmmm..." suddenly the numbers started to shake and shatter. As though they were experiencing a dangerous earthquake. Even I started to shake.
"Demi! wake up... stop hitting me.." the voice spoke again, but this time it was louder and much clearer. I was dreaming.
"Huh!" My eyes shot open. Suddenly all the light in the room burned the shit out of my eyes and my head felt as though a knife has been stabbed into it. "Oh, my god." My brain felt like it was being microwaved...or some sort of crazy shit like that. I hate this feeling.
"Sorry.. I didn't want to shout so loud because I have a hangover too.. but you wouldn't stop shaking. I had to wake you." he said softly. I put my hands over my face and rub my eyes. So much pain.
"Uhh... yeah..." I dig my head into the pillow and open my eyes a little more as soon as they adjusted to the light. I look at the unfamiliar hotel room and realize that I'm in bed and Joe is sitting 10 inches away from me. "Oh my gosh. what time is it?" I say, rubbing my forehead, sitting up a little bit.
"11." he responded.
"FUCK!" I get nervous. It's 11?!?!?!
"What's the matter?" Joe PRETENDS to be worried again. as usual.
"I missed my work ou---wait.....where am I?" I mumble.
"My hotel room..You passed out on some guy at the party last night so I picked you up and brought you here. Who knows what they could've done if I left you there alone. And then you started mumbling a bunch of things to me." He chuckled. A chill ran up my spine, and I started to feel nauseous.
"What was I saying?" I say, completely worried. What could I possibly have told him?! Oh god please don't let it be about my eating disorder. The nausea became worse.
"Don't worry about it." He shrugged. "You should go back to your room..."
"Wait..." I sit there for a moment, and then my breathing became really heavy.
"Uh oh" Joe already knew. He brought over a trash bin and held it near me. I bent over and puked. And started coughing. Joe rubbed my back and handed me a towel so I can wipe my mouth.
"I'm sorry.." I say with the towel still over my mouth, completely embarrassed.
"It's okay." he smiled. I close my eyes and curse at myself. The things that are running through my mind are cruel and haunting. I quickly stand up and just run out the door. I ran to my hotel room door, and checked all my pockets for the room key. Did I lose it last night? Did someone steal it and break into my room? What if they stole my stuff?! When I finally realized I had no way in, I just sat at the door. My hair was a mess, there was make up smeared all over my face, and my party clothes are all wrinkled. I looked like a washed out whore or something.
Minutes later, I turned my head in the direction where I heard footsteps approaching me.
"Umm..you forgot this...it was on my nightstand." Joe appeared and gave me my room key. I stood up and took it.
"Right... thanks.." I say in a weak voice and then walking into my room, instantly shutting my door. I don't want to make any more contact with humans for the next six hours. Flopping on my bed, I lay there. and sob. and sleep. and sob. and think about the food. the numbers. the obsession. and then sleep again. My life is so boring. It's just sleep, exercise, work, and obsession. That's just about it. If you're wanting to be my friend thinking I could help you get famous or give you money or bring you with me to hollywood premier parties to meet angelina jolie or something, then you're looking at the wrong person. I am not a pleasant person. I'm a fat disgusting piece of shit.
By the time I wake up again, it's 2pm. I get up and reach for my scale.
117.0
Oh my god.

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Entertainment

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• story
• demi
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• selena
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• love story
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• episode
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[carito146luvzyou]

please dont stop!keep going

[lv4u2]

so contimue i please

[odskdos]

117 isn't bad poor dems