A part of me, like I couldn't dream to think of a life without him, shattered completely. Half of me felt empty — the space Justin was meant to hold, but he wasn't there.
He wasn't there when I gave birth to our baby. He wasn't there when I gave him away. Most of all, he wasn't there when I went to go visit him in prison.
It was a completely different vibe to the prison they held him in previously before the court date. The prison he was staying at was more restricted; they had to check my belongings, my history (to see if there's any crimes on my back), and the guards held guns with no care in the world.
After the buzzer goes, signalling visiting times were starting, a bald guard with a beer belly showed up by my side. "Ma'am, he's not coming. You got to leave now," he told me after I explained who I was here for, making me feel immediate nausea.
"Do you know why?" I asked him, desperate for a message from him. Even if it hurt. The letter wasn't enough, sadly. I knew he said not to come visit him, but I couldn't help myself. I needed him — though it'll be across the table with people watching him with stern glares and no privacy whatsoever.
"Lady, I don't know. If he said no, it means no. He isn't coming. Try again tomorrow."
So I tried again the next day.
After a long five minute wait to enter the visiting area, I grab a seat and wait. If it meant waiting until the buzzer goes off for the visiting times is over, then I'll wait. I didn't mind the waiting game, as long as I got the result I dreamed for: seeing him.
Long, dragged minutes rolled in, and I saw the same guard from the day before eyeing me, a look of pity filling his brown eyes.
Just behind the guard, he was there.
I done all the research to do with the prison, so I knew when the visiting times start, it was also the other prisoners break — the time they're allowed outside. Just beside Justin was another guard, presumably having the responsibility to watch him.
It also meant that he came to see me even though he denied wanting to. It meant he missed me, but he was still restraining himself.
And this was just the start.
From that day on, I continued to visit the prison, sitting lonely at the table as the other visitors felt sorry for me. But still, when I sat there and the buzzer goes off for the time to begin, he would be standing there, watching me with a close eye even though he denied my visit.
Just seeing him was enough.
I couldn't care if we never got a conversation, a touch from him. I was fine with just seeing him.
He seemed to be content with that, too, until he stopped coming.
He didn't show up near the door where the prisoners enter from. He didn't show up even at the last minute. He didn't show up for a mere second. Just like that, he stopped it all. Stopped his feelings for me, stopped the moments I only cared for — the moments I could only ever see him.
It was final when the same guard approached me again. "Ma'am," he called, snapping my attention away from the door where Justin should be standing, and to him. "Justin Bieber ordered a transfer." Seeing my confused expression, he continued on, "He's moving prisons."
Just those three words hurt me like crazy.
He moved prisons just because I wouldn't stop seeing him like he ordered. And even though he did come see me the first few times, he knew he couldn't continue on and stop me from living. I knew all this from those three, stupid words.
So I got up, exited the building, and never went back.
That night, I didn't sleep. I called every place possible for information on where Justin was being transferred to, to know of the new location. But it was all classified. I couldn't find the new prison he was in, and with help of Leo, I concluded it was impossible.
It didn't stop me from sending Leo to the old prison he stayed in. I told him to "Act like you're going to see him for the first time, and when they say he moved, ask where."
It hadn't worked. The workers said they don't keep information on that, and directed him to go somewhere else. Then, of course, I begged Leo to go to the place he was told of, but he said no. I knew his answer was final when he shouted at me, storming out of the house and ignoring my calls for up to a week.
I also knew it was the final end of Justin and I.
He made it evident he didn't want to see me anymore. He didn't even want to me to follow him to the new prison because of that.
He was now just a memory.
I finish off the letter — it was still hard to read with teary eyes — and place it down on the floor, staring at the last sentence.
"You most probably will see me soon, that's only if the plan works."
YOU ARE READING
His Crime
Fanfiction[Sequel to 'His Girl'] After a year of Justin Bieber being sentenced for his crimes, he marks his big entrance home and reclaims his earned title. However, he will soon realise that his haunting thoughts come true, and he's the reason for it.
