Freezing (A Justin Bieber One-Shot)

Nothing was like the summer of 2009. The grass was greener than it had ever been before. The lake was a perfect blue; the abundance of fish was visible from sunrise to sunset. Our feet stirred the mud at the bottom, the dark green seaweed wrapped around our legs. The girls and I laid with the clovers, admiring the clouds and the water droplets dripping from the boys' backs. Our smiles grew wider with every passing day.

Freshman year came and went.

There were only seven of us left.

The tire swing came down. The water became murky. The grass became overgrown.

It started to rain.

Nobody knows the full story of why she committed suicide. She played sports. She had good grades. She could've gotten a scholarship.

She had us.

Gabriella had us.

Everyone had his or her guesses. In the end, we just decided she wasn't who we thought she was.

The funny thing is, we found a note explaining how she committed and who she wanted to say goodbye to, but no explanation as to why.

Her body was never found.

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"Just forget it!" I screamed at him, though I was sure the words went unnoticed thanks to the blaring house music pounding from the speakers.

I felt a strong hand grab my wrist, yanking me towards him. "Logan, get off me," I said, prying myself from his grip.

My body backed away from his quickly, accidentally coming in contact with a bystander's drink. My face turned red and, after mumbling a small "sorry", I fled from the room.

I heard my name being called over and over but there was no way I was going to stop. Not this time.

I maneuvered my way around the drunken teenagers until I was out the front door, the chilly fall air creating a shiver down my beer-soaked back.

"Gracie!" It was the last thing I heard before the door slammed shut, the only other sound around me being the thudding bass from inside.

Shoving my hands inside my coat pockets, which I didn't even bother taking off at the party — I knew I wouldn't be staying there long anyways — I stalked down the path leading out to the road. A few couples were lying on the lawn, looking up at the stars in a love-drunk haze.

My breath came out in puffs as I continued down the road, not paying attention to where I was headed. The sky was darker than usual and the stars appeared to be growing dimmer with every step I took. A small breeze was present enough to make me put up my hood. I heard the steady hoot of an owl. It seemed as if only a minute or two later, I arrived at my subconscious destination — the old Shell gas station.

Stopping in my tracks, my eyes suddenly blurred with tears. It might have been because I just had a fight with my boyfriend again and it had finally hit me that we had probably broken up for good this time. Or maybe the tears were present because it was about 35 degrees outside.

But it mostly had to do with Gabriella. This was the last place I had ever seen her alive.

I felt a lump in my throat begin to form and, before I could cause myself any more pain, I turned away from the abandoned building, starting the short walk home.

"Wait," a voice called, cutting through the still night. My eyes grew wide and my heart started to pound. I must have imagined it. Maybe it was the wind. Maybe there were just too many memories here and I was caught up in the moment.