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

Forty-Seven: Sanity

Chapter Forty-seven: Sanity

A/N: Remember the last line of the last chapter about him wishing he hit the tree a little harder?? I didn't mean that he hit another tree, I just meant like he wished he hit it harder the first time so that his life would be over. Usually I don't elaborate on lines, but this one is very very important to the story and I felt it was necessary before we moved on any further u feel !!!!

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Song of the chapter:
Medicine by Daughter (if you look up the meaning of this song or even just listen to it, it's literally perfect for this chapter like wow)
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It was like the calm after the storm as I sat on the floor, my back up against the side of my bed. It was completely silent other than the sound of my antagonizing thoughts picking at my brain ruthlessly. The mess that surrounded me was the least of my worries. The shattered picture frames, broken trophies, clothes on the floor, and two holes in the walls could all be fixed.

I, however, could not be.

A part of me knew that I wasn't going to get better. I didn't want to think that way, but it was time to face the facts. The more she was gone and the less I saw of her, the more I was going to go insane; and that was happening. I was going insane.

Her company kept me sane. When I had moved to Stratford, I was in a similar circumstance to the one I was in in that moment. I was lost, sad, confused, and about to go off the deep end due to the morbid loss of my girlfriend. But then Natalie showed up riding her skateboard down the sidewalk, unintentionally preparing to change my outlook on life. If she had never hit that bump in the sidewalk, who knows where either of us would have been.

My face was wet with tears, my eyes drowsy from producing so many of them. I knew I had to clean up the mess I made in my room, and I knew I had a lot of explaining to do. However, I was sure my mom wasn't going to be that mad. She was one of those people who cared solely about the well being of others rather than the material things that could be replaced.

My hand instinctively moved upwards, searching beneath my pillow. Once my fingers brushed along the slightly crumpled piece of paper, I pulled it down to my view.

It was Natalie's letter. I found myself reading it often because in a way, it made it feel as if she was with me. I needed that more than anything. Each time I read the letter, I discovered something new in her words. New meanings behind things, her feelings as she wrote the letter, and little details that I had missed prior to reading it again. Some of them were intentional while some of them were so discrete, I was surprised that I even saw them.

I kept picturing her reading the letter to me. I tried to think of the way her voice would sound as she read the happy parts as opposed to the sad parts. I tried to imagine the slight raspy-ness her voice possessed along with the subtle rising and falling tone. I pictured the way her eyes would trace along the paper, reading every word with so much passion and feeling behind them. I imagined her having to stop halfway through to take a breath in order to calm herself down. I could sit there and think of her all day, but I knew it wouldn't get me anywhere. I knew it would only make things worse, but sometimes I needed it. Thinking of her was kind of like a drug to me. No good came from it, but it was addicting. I couldn't stop.

I'd never stop.

I ran a tired, trembling hand through my hair and tried to breathe in deeply to calm down. I stared at her desperate, confused words across the paper over and over again. No matter how many times I read it, my heart would break every single time.

I just want to talk to her. I want to hear her voice again and hear her tell me that I'll be okay even though things are hard. I need her so badly.