Bates Motel: Justin Bieber

Chapter 11

Violet's Point of View

   I had to admit, Justin was a scary guy. He was very concealed, doesn't really tell me anything. I guess because we met on weird circumstances; either when he saved me from becoming a pancake to when he was drunk and breaking glass on the street, or even when he caused some damage to . . . Brian's face, since that was when I learned his name.

I don't expect him to tell me his life story or anything, hell, I don't even know if I want to know about it. But I should at least be known to the fact that he isn't some sadistic psychopath. I'm still hanging on the thought that he might be, just in case.

“Let's go,” he said. I looked around, noticing we were in a different spot in the woods than last time, which did heighten my nerves. Following him, I also noticed that it did in fact get colder, and the wind blew the trees like it would in a typical scary movie, which added to my list of reasons to never go into these woods again.

“Are we almost there?” I asked, avoiding a branch sticking out.

“No.”

No? What the hell does he mean no?

I was debating on ditching him and running the other way, but I kinda didn't know my way back home. He drove farther into the woods this time, so I was out of luck. “If you don't mind me asking, where are we going?”

“Chill. It's some place I know.”

Yep, this is it. I'm going to die. Mom, Dad, I love you. Max, you cannot have my college fund!

“C'mere,” he said.

Speeding up to his side, I looked toward him. He pulled out something from his pocket and I flinched. He eyed me weirdly, but continued what he was doing.

He used the pocket knife he had and jabbed it into the tree next to me, making me flinch again. He only smirked, his bicep flexing right in front of my face, as he pulled the knife out.

“What are you doing?” He asked, when I stepped away.

“I don't know, Justin. What am I doing? You can't just bring me here and not tell me where we're going or what we're doing. I'm really stuck on the fact that you're gonna kill me,” I spat out, rubbing my arms for warmth.

He looked angry and I felt stupid for even saying anything. “Looks like you shouldn't go places with people you barely know, huh? Because you're fucking afraid I'm gonna kill you?” He shouted. But then he started chuckling. “If I wanted to kill you, kitten, you'd be fucking dead already.”

Justin started walking again, and each time he stepped on a branch breaking it, I could have swore I thought he was imagining it was my bones cracking.

Then a little house came in sight. There were no lights on, so it looked a little sketchy, but Justin still led me inside. “This is where you live?” I asked.

“No. It's where my friend lived. It's abandoned and off limits, but I come here once in a while.”

Walking around the hardwood floors, I tried my best making out what were in the pictures that hung on the walls. “I don't get why there were still pictures.”

Justin ignored me and then flicked on a flashlight. “That's me and Ryan,” he whispered right in my ear, making me shiver.

I turned around and he stepped away, walking into what looked like the bathroom. “I needa take a piss. Feel free to watch,” he grinned, keeping the door open.

I quickly spun myself, covering my eyes. “You're disgusting,” I mumbled.

Once he was done, he did not flush, although I wasn't expecting him to. Justin came out and walked around, observing the place like he hadn't seen it in a while. “Man, I forgot how much of a shithole this was.”

I shrugged. “It's not that bad.”

I walked down the hall, seeing furniture in each room. I was surprised no one had stolen this stuff. It looked in good shape. My shoes scraped against the floors and I looked down. There was a carving in the wood of the floor. I was just about to bend down and read it when Justin came by and grabbed my arm, pulling me into a room. He pinned me onto the wall, and I squealed quickly. “Did you call the fucking cops?” He growled, his nostrils flaring.

“No! Why would I?” I whisper-yelled.

“They must have seen the truck. They're here, we have to hide,” he whispered, pulling me into the closet. He sat closest to the corner, while I sat in between his legs. “I thought you were close with the sheriff?”

He chuckled, quietly. “I am. Just not in the way that you think. I've been arrested over twenty times, baby girl.”

I widened my eyes and almost yelled at him, but he slapped his hand over my mouth and pulled me closer to him to where he could whisper in my ear. “If you say a fucking word right now and get me caught, I will probably fucking kill you.” I knew, I just knew I shouldn't have come here. This was such a bad idea. He's threatening to kill me for Pete's sake! If he thinks I'm staying another minute after the police leave, he's delusional.

I heard footsteps roaming the house, and I nodded the best I could, letting him know I was going to cooperate . . . for now. “Good girl.” He kept his hand over my mouth, and the other held my hand over the knife in the pocket of his jeans, which I'm sure he meant, “if you talk, I won't hesitate to pull this knife on you”.

“Hello? Anybody in here?” I heard someone call. I started shaking in Justin's hold, scared for my own life. Cops made me nervous in the first place, but Justin wanting to kill me made it worse. “Shh,” he whispered, trying to calm me down.

We then heard the footsteps travel into the room we were in. I saw their flashlight shine around the room through the crack of the closet door. “Clear,” he muttered, before walking out.

A couple tears streamed down my face, and the edge of Justin's hand caught them. I didn't mean for them to slip out, just like I didn't mean to enjoy Justin's hand over mine in a time like this!

Once we both heard the cops step out of the house, they started their car and pulled away. I let out a whimpered sigh, and tried to relax.

Justin removed his hand from my mouth and I breathed in a deep breath. “Calm down, don't have a fucking panic attack.”

“Take me home,” I muttered.

“Why? The fun just got started, babe,” he chuckled.

We still sat in the closet and I leaned against the door. “Please just take me home. I don't like this, okay?”

“No,” he spat.

“No?”

“Yeah, no. I didn't fucking drive you here so you could pussy out and leave.”

“Well, you did call me kitten . . .”

“Get up, kitten,” he sighed, frustrated. I slowly got up, making sure I didn't bump into anything. Pushing open the door, I stepped out and let my eyes adjust to the darkness. “Your ass sat on my dick the whole time,” he groaned, fixing his pants.

I shook my head, walking out of the room. “If you won't take me home, I'll walk home,” I said, standing my ground.

“Go ahead,” he chuckled, looking at his wrist watch. “It's twelve-fifteen. Someone's gonna snatch you off those streets, babe.”

-

OVER 700 READS. THX SO MUCH. This chapter is Violet's POV as a gift :) a lot of readers like when it's a character's point of view, but I enjoy writing in third person because you get a little bit of everybody's thoughts. So thank you again!

Vote and comment! (i love all ur lil comments)