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

Six: Returning Mail

Six: Returning Mail
__________
Song of the chapter:
Palo Alto by Devonte Hynes
__________

The next few days went by, and I'd completely given up on getting my magazine. Maybe it was going to come when I least expected it. My days consisted of lying around the house, sleeping, eating, and watching television. Mark told me that I was becoming a homebody, but I didn't care. What was I supposed to do? Go out with the friends I didn't have?

On Thursday, I decided to go to the woods for some peace and quiet so I could finish a song I had been trying so hard to finish for such a long time. I began writing it about a year ago when I realized I'd never written a love song before. I wanted to take on the challenge of doing so since it was kind of out of my element. So there I was, almost a year later, with only the first verse done. There was no actual music to it yet, just words.

It was probably easier to write something like that when someone is actually in love, which was something I'd never been in before. There had been guys, sure, but once they got what they wanted from me, whether it was being arm candy or a full out hookup, I would never hear from them again. Some of the guys never even told me their name, but that didn't stop me. I would allow them to take advantage of me.

I gathered up the sheet music I had started writing on and a pencil, then began to the woods at around twelve. The sun shined through a couple of clouds in the sky that gave the perfect amount of shade. Although the sun wouldn't really be a problem for me since the tall trees that were scattered around the large area would easily block it.

There has to be something that could inspire me. Maybe I just have to find it first.

The trunk of the tree supported my back as I leaned against it, tapping my pencil compulsively against the notebook that held my music. I looked up at the leaves on the trees that allowed only small rays of sun to sneak through. The birds were chirping to multiple different tunes, but none of them seemed to help with what I was going for.

My eyes wandered back down to the notepad, and I began reading the lyrics in my head for what seemed like the eight hindered time.

It feels like we've been out at sea. 
So back and forth, that's how it seems. 
And when I want to talk, you say to me, that 
"If it's meant to be, it will be." 
So crazy is this thing we call love, 
And now that we've got it we just can't give up.

And that was it. That was all I had. Almost a full year had passed and it was all I could come up with. It was not even close to being done.

I groaned and rolled my neck, keeping my eyes on the leaves in the trees. I didn't know why I even attempted to do it. It was only making me angry and frustrated. But being outside with no one around was kind of nice. Relaxing was the word. No one could bother me, there were no distractions, no noises, no--

Crack!

The sound of a twig breaking stopped my thoughts. Whether it was a person or an animal, I still wanted to look. For all I knew, it could have been a murderer.

Sometimes, I was really paranoid. I couldn't help it. When you grow up in a place where you have to be on your toes all the time, you're going to be used to it. And that was what happened to me. It was almost like I had PTSD.

I put my notepad down and my pencil over top of it, then placed both hands down on the dry soil and pushed myself upward. I turned around a few times, looking to see if I could find where the noise came from. Maybe some moving leaves or even the culprit, but there was nothing. I furrowed my eyebrows and felt myself shiver, although it wasn't exactly cold out. As much as I'd hate to admit it, I was a little afraid.