Maybe some of you guys his reading this story on Twitter and JustinBieberFanfiction.com.....
Well, for those who haven't, I really hope you'll enjoy this:)
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An Illegal Love.
Julia.
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I'm 12. My father is alcoholic, and everyday he will abuse me. My mom is on drugs and she never cares about me. They would always fight. They would always treat me like a shit. And they don't love me.
I have one friend named Sara. She does not know about my parents although she is my best friend. Around people, I act ormal even if it kills me inside to lie to my friends.
While girls are obsessed with a teenage pop star, Justin Bieber, I will sit there listening to all the stuff they talk about him and look at his pictures they have. He is cute but nothing else. Nothing special.
As I sat down on my bed, I thought about when my dad will come into my room and start abusing me. I had bruises, cuts all over my body. "I pledge allegiance to the flag, of the United States of America..." I recited the pledge of the American flag, that I finally memorize, "And to the republic for which it stands, one nation, under God, in the visible, with liberty and justice for all." I whispered. I wondered what those words meant.
I rested on my bed feeling comfortable, squeezing my medium sized teddy bear. I named it "Julius Caesar" because I wanted to be as strong and mighty as him. Brave to stand against his enemies. "Julius, I wonder how strong you are. Can you protect me from my enemies?"
It just stared at me back, saying nothing, and I bet I looked like a freak for talking to an teddy bear.
I laughed to myself, "That's never happening. I would be in this hell like world forever."
I sighed and looked out my small window. Everything looked perfect.... everything will look perfect.. until Dad come home.
Suddenly I heard a slam from the front door. "Dads back." I muttered under my breath. I hid under the bed, with Julius, praying to God that he is not drunk.But then I heard him yelling out my name. I heard him kicking the walls as he came up stairs. Then, I heard a knock on my room door, "Julia? Are you in here?" I felt my whole body shiver. It was the most terrifying moment. My body didn't even move a centimeter. "I know that you're in here, Julia. NOW FUCKIN OPEN THE DOOR, BITCH!!!" and said that, he slammed the door open and walked around the room, "Where are you bitch? I'm calling you so get your fucking ass out here from where you're hiding!!!"
He stopped in front of my bed, and I stopped breathing. My whole entire body did not move. It was frozen. Completely frozen.
He kicked the bed. And a yelped escaped my lips. He might heard my voice because he knelt down and looked under my bed.
As soon as I saw his face, a tear rolled down my eyes. I smelled the alcohol from his breathe. He smiled, grabbed my hair, and pulled me out. I screamed in pain as he held me by my hair. My legs weren't touching the floor.
"Dad, Dad, stop please!!!" I cried but I knew that he won't listen to me. This already happened to me too many times. And why would I beg him to stop? Why not let him finish what he wants to do with me and let it go? No, I can't do that. I'm not brave enough to do that. I'm not Julius Caesar or none of the famous, brave people. I'm just a 12 year old kid, getting abused by my own father.
My train of thoughts were cut off by my dad spitting on my face and slamming my back onto a wall. He let go of my hair and grabbed my leg. I closed my eyes, I knew what was coming. Immediately, I felt a sharp pain going through my thighs. It went down, down, and down until it hit my knees. He let go of my leg and again felt another sharp pain on my right hand. It went through my palm. Then he punched my face and slammed my left hand onto the wall. Pain was going throughout my whole body like wave. I didn't know what to do but to cry. I heard him laugh and punch my stomach, hard. He left my room without even saying a word.
I lied there, crying. Why would this happen to only me and myself? I know that bad things happen for a reason but why abusing?
I looked at my leg. My left thigh had a huge cut going down through my knees. It was pretty deep and blood stains were all over the carpet. "He cut me..." I whispered. I moved my right arm and looked at it. I cried. He stuck a knife through my palm.
Somehow, I crawled over to the bathroom that was connected to my room, and I got a towel for my palm and legs. I looked at myself in the mirror in my bathroom. I had small, deep cuts and bruises all over my body. "Why me?"
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"And so Justin Bieber is in TOWN!!!!!!!" Sara yelled. I sat down on our lunch table eating my apple. "Why do you always have apple for lunch? Always!!" she asked me as she gave me a slice of ham.
"I don't know," I answered, quietly.
She shrugged and ate her sandwich. "Why aren't you excited? The JUSTIN BIEBER is here!!! We're both breathing the same AIR as his!!!" she exclaimed.
"He's just a normal teenager who's just a little more famous than us.." I replied. She laughed and was trying to say something but the bell rang for the next class.
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I kicked a rock that was on the side walk. Girls and boys in my age would go home happily. They think that home is like heaven compared to school. But for me it's the opposite. You know why.
I stared at a black range rover that passed by. Somehow, my eyes trailed to the driver. I heard that Justin Bieber has a black Range Rover but... no. It couldn't be him. But still, I looked at the driver. The boy had a long skater hair with black sunglasses. He wore a NY purple cap with a white t-shirt. He looked over at me as he drove. Our eyes met and they were like glued together. We didn't look around for once, when our eyes met. But only at each other. I just stared at the car until I couldn't see it. That was weird. Really weird. Was that Justin Bieber? He really looked like him. Especially his hairstyle. I shrugged and continued walking home.
I was in front of my house. Standing right there. I didn't want to walk in, because I heard my parents yelling at each other and throwing stuff.
I sat down on the stairs of the porchas I stared at the kids who were walking home, laughing and playing around. Why can't I be that happy?
I heard my mom yelling, cussing, and throw something at my dad. I sat there wondering when they'll finally kill themselves. Why did they even get married if they always fight? Why did they een get married if they hate eachother? Why am I the only one going through this? Why am I the one who is getting abused by my own dad? Why am I the one, the only one suffering? What did I do wrong? What did I do? I cried and cried and cried. I didn't want to go into my house. I just sat down on the porch, crying my eyes out.
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After a few hours, I walked to a park, sat down on a swing, and started to cry again.
I heard someone sitting next to me and humming a song. And I heard him say, "What's wrong?"
I, with a broken voice, answered, "I don't want to live this hell like life anymore. I just want to die. I think hell is the home for me. I rather go there than to stay here in this world." I still looked down, crying.
I heard him sigh and hug me, "Tell me what's going on with you so I can help."
I shook my head, "I'm ok."
I pushed him away and stood up. I looked up at his face but it was too dark to see him clearly.
He pulled out his hand, "Hope you'll be ok. I'll be here, always. Whenever you're sad or if you didn't have a great day, come here and tell me about it. I'll do my best to make you feel better."
I saw him smile as I reached my hand out, "Thanks. You made me feel better." I smiled and shook his hand. I felt him touching my hand. He touched the place where my dad stabbed my hand yesterday.
"What happened?" he asked me. I looked down and didn't answer him. "Are you ok?" he asked me again.
I shook my head and pulled my hand out of his.
I ran home.
I didn't want him to know that I'm abused by my own dad.
When I got to home, I slowly walked inside. I tried my best not to make not any noise.
When I was at the top of the stairs, someone called out, "What were you doing out there so late?" the person was behind me. I knew who it was by the smell of alcohol.
My eyes were immediately filled with tears. Fear was taking over my whole body.
He turned me around roughly. "Dad, please stop," I cried.
He laughed and slapped me across my face, "Bitch." He threw me down the stairs. As he walked down, I tried to get up with all my strength that is left. My arm was hurting and my back had a severe pain. It was reaching throughout my whole body. "Where are you trying to go, Bitch?" he grabbed me by my clothes. He slammed my face onto the wall. I cried out in pain as he knelt down and grabbed me by my hair.
"Dad, it hurts," I cried.
"Oh, I'll make you feel better," he pulled out a knife. He stabbed me on my thigh... the same place where he did yesterday. I cried outloud in so much pain. He pulled out the knife and stabbed me again on my thigh. I was crying and screaming so loud. He pulled out the knife and got a duck tape. He put it over my mouth, "We're gonna have fun tonight."
I criedas I watched him taking his t-shirt off.
I cried even more by watchind him taking his pants off. I tried to move but my hands were already tied up together. I couldn't move.
He knelt down and took my jeans and underwear off.
I tried to scream for help but the duck tape on my mouth stopped me from screaming. What's the point of screaming when no one would hear me with this duck tape on? I just cried. Cried, cried, and cried.
I looked up the stairs. Julius was sitting their staring at me. How did he get there by himself? The train of thought was interrupted by my dad entering me. At the age of 12, I was raped by my own father.
2 o'clock in the morning.
I lied down on my bed. I was tired. Tired of everything. I buried my face into the pillow and cried. I was raped by my own dad. Why me? What did I do to? I just want to leave this house. But after that, how would I live? I didn't have any money. I didn't have a place to live. I didn't have food. I looked out my small window in my room. I didn't want to go to school today. I felt dirty.
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"Today in math, we will learn how to do the crossing out 9's," my math teacher Mrs. Henry said. I sat there not even listening to a word she's saying. My head was only into stuffs from yesterday. My legs were still hurting and also my stomach area. The pain wasn't going away.
"Mrs. Henry, can I go home today? I don't feel good," it was half true so I'm not lying. She nodded and told me that it was ok to go home. So I grabbed my backpack and went home without even saying a word to Sara. I walked out the school when I saw a black Range Rover in the school parking lot. I walked over to see it if it was the one I saw yesterday.
And it was.
I didn't know why the car was right there. I sat down on the grass watching the Range Rover. I wished the person who owns this car would take me somewhere that would completely change my life. I didn't want to go home and get abused by my dad again. I didn't even want to live in this world. I buried my head into my knees and cried.
I cried for few minutes when I felt someone sit next to me.
I looked up and saw a teenage boy with black sunglasses, black t-shirt, white skinny jeans, and the purple NY cap. "Hi," he said. I stared at him as I felt a tear roll down from my eyes.
"What's wrong? Why are you crying again?" he asked. Again? What does he mean by again?
"What do you mean again?" I asked him.
"We met...... yesterday at the park," he replied, "wait.... Are you ok?"
I raised an eyebrow, "What do you mean by 'are you ok'? Yes, I'm ok..... In a way...."
He gave me a weird look, "You don't know me?" I shook my head and said no. "Ok..... I'm the guy who sings 'Baby, baby, baby ohhhh'," he sang. Now, it was my turn to give him a weird look and laughed, "What's that?"
His mouth dropped wide open so I closed it for him and giggled. "You really don't know me?" he asked me in a serious tone. I shook my head. He sighed and took his sunglasses off, "Now do you recognize me?"
I looked at him closely but.... Didn't recognize him, "Nope!!" His jaw dropped again and he didn't say a word. I looked at him. I have seen him before but I don't remember......
Then it hit me, "You're Justin Beaver!!!!"
He raised an eyebrow, "Uhhh..... You got that right but not my last name. It's Justin BieBER." I nodded and said ok. "But why didn't you know me or freak out?" he asked me.
"I'm still 12. I don't know everything that's happening in this whole world," I answered staring at the Range Rover and played with my fingers.
"You're 12? You don't look like a 12 year old. I thought you were 14 or something," he said and stared at the car too, "So why were you crying?"
I immediately stopped playing with my fingers.
"What's wrong?" he asked. I bit my nails. "What happened to your hand?" he asked me as he took my right hand, where my dad stabbed the other day. He looked at it closely, "What happened?" He looked at me in the eyes. I stared at him and didn't answer. I didn't want people to know about this. What if I told them and they called the police? My dad would kill me as soon as he gets out of jail.
"He stabbed me," words automatically came out of my mouth. I wasn't going to say that, but it just came out by itself, "and he raped me yesterday. He abuses me every day. And I have to make excuses when my teachers ask me what happened to me. My mom is addicted to drugs and won't take care of me." More tears ran down my cheek as my mouth said every single word and it didn't stop. Finally when my mouth stopped talking, I cried in his arms.
I saw him crying too, "It's ok. It's ok." He said again and again.