No One's Point of View:
It was cold inside the holding cell just like the blood running through his veins. Justin hadn't slept at all last night, and all he could do was stare at the filthy wall across from him while he waited for night to turn to day.
Justin was screaming, willing himself to snap out of it. He was trapped however, unable to break through the harsh barriers of reality he created around him. He wanted to feel the pain, the things he's forced himself to close off all these years. He wanted the darkness he's hidden deep inside of him to come out and play; to take him back to the place he knew so well—when he didn't have a girl to worry about, and the only thing he cared about was himself and putting a bullet through someone's chest.
He was craving the bitter end he's been so close to accomplishing many times before.
It's about time you started to see how much of a pussy you've become.
"Shut up," Justin growled angrily, staring hard at the floor with his hands curled into fists at his side.
Don't act like you don't know it's true. That little bitch had doomed you from the start.
The voices in his head were beginning to taunt him again, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He was beginning to lose his mind, and he knew it, but he didn't care.
It's about time you got rid of that slut.
"She's not a slut," Justin countered though a sharp pang in his chest told him otherwise.
Stop defending her! Look where that got you—back in prison. Bruce was right. She's going to ruin you.
"You don't know what you're talking about," He barked, standing up. He was beginning to get worked up now, his chest heaving violently.
She's everything to you, the voice in the back of his head said, trying to bring him where he had a grip on his sanity.
Shaking his head, Justin clutched it in his hands, willing to get rid of the voices, "stop," He begged.
She saved you from yourself. She stuck by you even when everyone else gave up. She loves you, don't throw that away.
"STOP TALKING!" He screamed before landing a solid punch to the wall without a second thought. Wincing, he cursed under his breath, trying to shake the sting away.
"You know, talking to yourself is quite the bad habit,"
Turning around, Justin scowled, not surprised to see John standing on the other side of his cell. "What the fuck do you want?" He spat, ignoring the shot of pain that ran up his arm.
Looking him dead in the eye, ridden of all emotion, John spoke, "I want to talk about what you did."
Justin rolled his eyes, knowing he should've seen this coming, "I don't."
"Great then you can listen," John countered sharply while walking over to him, wrapping his fingers around the vertical bars.
"I'm not in the mood for your shit right now," Justin snapped.
"Too bad," he stood his ground, refusing to back down just because Justin wasn't himself. "Do you even know what you did last night?"
"Yeah," he shrugged, picking at the lint on his shirt, clearly uninterested.
John pressed his lips together, "you turned everyone's life upside down last night and you don't even care."
Feeling the jab in his chest from his words, Justin forced himself to look away, to shut out anything that made him suffer. He didn't want the weight of the world on his shoulders anymore. He didn't want to care.
