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

Thirty-One: Clear

Thirty-one: Clear
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Song of the chapter:
Stars and Boulevards by Augustana
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I couldn't breathe. Looking at the scenery before my eyes made me light headed. Everything was spinning and I almost threw up. But I had to snap myself out of it and go get him before I was too late.

So without a second thought, I began running. While doing so, I dialled 9-1-1 with a shaky and unsteady hand and voice. Nothing about me was calm, cool, or collected, for that matter. I couldn't even believe I was actually running seeing that I could barely feel my legs in general.

"9-1-1, what's your emergency?"

"M- my boyfriend-- he's hurt. I mean, I actually don't know if he is yet, but his car is crashed into a tree and I-- I'm running there now," I choked out, surprised that I could get myself to speak.

"Alright sweetheart, calm down," the dispatcher stated calmly even though she probably understood this was a fairly serious and urgent call. "Can you tell me your location?"

"I'm on Wendy Drive, the little side road off of Kennedy. The one by the woods."

Come on, I thought. You're so close to his car. Hurry up. He needs you.

"Did you reach the vehicle yet?" the dispatcher questioned.

I didn't say anything because I was only a foot away from it when she asked. My hand touched the side of the car and I swung around to the driver's side, terrified of what I would see. And when I did, I couldn't speak.

"Ma'am?" the dispatcher said as I scanned over the scene before me. "Ma'am, are you there?"

"Y-yeah," I swallowed. "Just send help. Now."

I hung up quickly, placing my phone on the gravel. Then my eyes scanned over Justin leaning back in the driver's seat, his eyes barely open and blood trickling down from his hairline. His jaw was swollen, but I assumed it was from the night before. His hand, however, was holding onto his chest as he struggled to breathe.

Thank god he's actually alive. For now.

"Justin," I cried, prying the door open. Due to the damage on the car, it felt like it was glued shut, but the adrenaline pumping through my veins helped me. I took his disturbingly pale face in my hands gently to bring his attention to me. He was going in and out of consciousness-- from blood loss, I assumed. "Justin, hey," I whispered, smiling warmly at him to take his attention away from what was happening. "Help is coming, okay?" I stroked his face, which felt cold.

He drew in a staggered breath that appeared to pain him. "I'm so sorry," his voice was barely a whisper. Raspy.

"It's okay, just-- just stay with me, alright? Look at me."

He swallowed and breathed heavily. "W- what happened to my leg? It hurts so bad, Natalie."

I looked down, seeing that his car crushed down on his leg. I told him. And it was then that I could hear the sirens of the ambulance in the distance, bringing me to a state of relief.

"Did-- did you call for help?"

A sob emerged from my throat. He barely knew what he was saying and he didn't realize that I'd already told him. I nodded and cried harder, feeling as if it was all my fault.

"Okay," he whispered, his eyes groggily opening and closing. I looked over my shoulder, seeing the ambulance and a few police cars along with it. I moved my eyes back to him, trying to picture him in a happier time-- not in pain, either.