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

Sixteen: Silence

Sixteen: Silence
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Song of the chapter:
The Lucky One by Taylor Swift
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Though I still had that feeling that it would all bite me in the ass when it was over, I proceeded to get ready so I could meet Justin at his house during the next hour. I didn't know how he got me to do things like that, but I obviously wasn't the biggest fan of that. It wasn't like me to listen to people.

Standing before my mirror, the person I hated more than anything stared back at me. I could say I hated everyone in my town, the county, the state, and even the country all I wanted, but at the end of the day, I hated myself the most. It wasn't even just a physical issue anymore. It was so much deeper than that. It was to the point where I hated every single thing I could possibly hate about myself. My looks, my actions, my thoughts, my words. Everything.

I pulled on torn denim shorts, a loose fitted, dark gray tshirt, and a pair of my Converse. The clothes I wore weren't the classiest or most "put together" looking, but I felt comfortable in them. I was so used to wearing simple-kinds-of-things that I just didn't care to try anything else. My dark blond hair held a slight wave that wasn't completely unique. It wasn't like they were crazy beach waves, but they were subtle, messy ones.

One word came to mind looking at myself: ugly.

There was no sugarcoating it. That was how I felt and there was no changing it. No one could change that. That's just how things were and they weren't going to be different. I would feel that way the rest of my life.

Looking over at the digital clock on my nightstand, I saw the time read two fifty-six. I had to be at Justin's around three fifteen.

That gives you time, the all too familiar sinister voice hissed in the back of my mind. Chills crawled down my spine, making me shudder. I tried so hard to pretend I didn't have that thought, but it wouldn't go away.

Don't ignore me. You haven't done it in a couple of days, and it's about time that you do. That's all you're good at is ruining things. So, why not keep ruining your wrists? That's all you're worth. Justin can't help you.

Taking my bottom lip in between my teeth nervously, my eyes shifted from the clock to the mirror, to the drawer that held the small, silver blade. My head was spinning and telling me to do so many different things. I could just do it and get it over with, but then I would have to put on a sweatshirt and it was just too hot for that. Or I could walk away. Walk away and go another day without doing it. Another day of being clean-- sober. I couldn't deny that it felt kind of nice knowing that I hadn't thought about it in a couple of days, but since it came back it flooded my mind like crazy. It wouldn't go away.

Just go away! Get out of my head and leave me alone! Leave me alone!

And just like that, my heart rate returned to its normal pace, I stopped shivering, my breathing pattern was regular, and I was fine. For the moment, at least. I knew I had to leave before I changed my mind.

Moving my gaze down to my wrist, I made sure I had all of my bracelets on, which I did, and I slapped the light off and left. I didn't want to go down that path again. I wanted to defeat this stupid feeling because if I did, I would be okay.

But you can't beat me, the voice said as I ran down the stairs.

As soon as I arrived at Justin's house and saw him sitting on his front steps, he looked surprised to see me, but neither of us said a word. He appeared to be just as surprised as I was that I actually showed up.

The entire ride to the restaurant, not a word. Walking into the restaurant, nothing. Sitting at the table, nothing. Eating our breakfast, nothing-- silence. It wasn't until everything was cleaned up that he finally said something.