Don't Get Too Close (Justin Bieber Love Story / Fan Fiction)

Thirty: Again

Thirty: Again
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Song of the chapter:
Be Still by the Fray
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I returned home around midnight, my face warm and my eyes tired from what seemed to be endless crying. Sections of my hair were clinging to my skin from the tears, leaving it matted. And it wasn't because of Justin, it was what he said. His words were ones that I couldn't forget for (most likely) the rest of my life. Or at least, that was what it felt like.

Without changing out of my clothes, I crawled into bed and wrapped myself up in my blankets. I buried my head into my pillow and breathed in, a shakiness in my lungs. I wasn't crying anymore-- I couldn't. My eyes hurt. I was tired.

And that was all.

I lay there in my bed. The one thing I had ever known as hope was gone. Justin made it clear that I was too much to handle, and he was right. A part of me knew that all along, but he was beginning to turn my mind around only to flip it back before I completely fell for him.

I fell asleep. I didn't even bother to check my phone one time because I knew it was over. I didn't want to get my hopes up. He'd already disappointed me enough, so I wasn't going to make it worse for myself.

Saying I had a good night's sleep would have been a lie. I fell asleep-- but I had woken up at least seventeen times during the night because of some type of wild nightmare. Whether it had to do with my parents, my dead/unborn sister, Avalanna, Mark, or Justin, they were all horrifying and they wouldn't let me sleep for a solid twenty minutes.

By six in the morning, the sun started to rise and I watched it from my bed. I could feel the heaviness in my eyes and head, but I ignored it. Watching the sunrise was something I hadn't done before and it was calming. Although it was a little too metaphorical for my taste, I couldn't help but remember something my father told me when I was young.

"Natalie, come here! Quick!" my dad yelled from the back porch outside. I was eight years old and it was a warm August evening. I was in the midst of brushing my teeth because it was nearing nine o'clock: my bedtime. For an eight-year-old-girl, that was considered fairly late.

Pushing myself up on my tiptoes, I spit out my toothpaste in the sink and put my toothbrush in the holder hurriedly. My hand slapped the light and I ran through the house in my matching blue t-shirt and shorts pajama set that I had gotten as a gift for my birthday. I grabbed into the screen door handle and pulled it open, seeing the tall figure that was my dad standing with his back facing the house. He then turned to me, excitement on his expression.

"Nat, look at this," he waved his hand for me to come nearer. I did and he lifted me up, holding me against his side. "Watch the sunset," he pointed at the open sky filled with orange and pink. The sun was nearing the horizon, something I had never stopped to notice before. I was only eight-- I never worried about much.

I watched as the round, bright sun moved down fairly quickly until it disappeared behind the ground.

"You ever seen one of those?" he asked. I shook my head. "I love them, but I like the sunrise even more."

"Why?" I shifted my attention to the man I thought had the answers to everything. As my father, he was the go-to guy for everything. He was someone who I could trust and who always knew what to say.

"Because," he began, looking at me in the eyes. When he explained things to me, he didn't talk to me like a little kid. I was another adult to him-- a regular person. "no matter what the sun goes through that day-- whether it's the clouds blocking it from shining or the rain falling-- it will still rise and shine just as bright the next day."