Fixing Us (A Justin Bieber Fanfiction | #JustWriteIt)

Fixing Us | Two

The sun shine woke me up at such Monday morning. My eyes peeked and saw that the window blinds are open. I hissed to myself as I turned to the other side. I can't believe I actually forgot closing the blinds last night.

I heaved a sigh as my brain took me back to the night before. After all the possibilities suggested by my paranoid brain, I wasn't able to sleep. I was wide awake, twisting and turning, until somewhat three o'clock in the ungodly hours of the night.

Something just doesn't place, and I kind of got scared for what it is. Because unfortunately, I have a feeling what that "something" is.

I closed my eyes again, in hopes to get a few more hours to sleep. For Pete's sake, I only slept two hours.

But no matter how I tried to close my eyes, willing myself to go back to my disturbed sleep, I just couldn't.

I heaved a sigh and sat up unwillingly. I went to my bathroom and washed my face and changed clothes. If I can't sleep, I might as well just get up and do some workout. I was hoping this would wear me out and have me asleep after thirty minutes.

I went downstairs and into the basement where our mini gym took place. I turned on the music on my Apple Watch, ear pods stuck in my ear. The song Uma Thurman by Fall Out Boys played from my device. I stretched my bones for a while before walking to the treadmill and began running on the device.

My workout lasted thirty minutes, and when I was done, I was already heaving and sweating hard. I went up to the kitchen after removing my shoes and grabbing it with my two hands, bringing it with me. When I reached the living room, I went to the hallway first and left my pair of running shoes on the shoe rack.

I travelled to the kitchen, and then to the refrigerator, grabbing a water bottle. I opened it up and chugged the liquid down to my throat, as if I haven't drank water for the past ten years.

"You had a morning run?" My mom queried as she appeared in the kitchen, her wavy shoulder length hair followed every move of her head. That was one of those godly given gifts she had-her beautiful blonde hair.

I pursed my lips. "Yeah, in the treadmill," I answered, touching my own wavy blonde hair, only it was in a pony tail.

My mom tilted her head to the side, studying me as she walked towards the refrigerator. "Is there something bothering you, honey?" she asked.

My lips formed a thin line, contemplating whether I would tell her what I have in mind or not. But in the end, I decided not to. She would probably just tell me that I was delusional or something. Or worst, she'll tell me that what was bothering me was the truth and would end up giving me a migraine.

"Nothing," I merely whispered.

My mom cleared her throat. "And you dare lying to your mother who carried you for nine months and raised you for twenty years," she stated while grabbing few of food ingredients. I guess she'd make breakfast now.

I heaved a sigh. "Just didn't get a good night sleep," I answered. It was not the whole truth, nor was it a lie. It was just partly the truth.

Before my mom could talk me into spitting whatever was on my mind, I headed up to my room.

I was wishing the work out would wear me out and had me dropping on my bed and get overwhelmed of sleep, only it did the opposite. I was absolutely wide awake, and didn't even feel the need of going to sleep. So instead of getting so riled up about it, I went to my bathroom and took a morning shower.

I lasted past half an hour in the shower. And when I was done with my bathroom routine, I immediately change into my comfortable house clothes.

Just in time I walked out of my bathroom fully clothe, my mother summoned us down to have breakfast.