|Self-Conclusion|Justin Bieber|Dear Aiden Sequel|

When fate steps it at the wrong time there’s nothing  you can do besides sit and watch as everything you ever considered to be right or normal suddenly disintegrate as if it didn’t matter or even happen. Sometimes I close my eyes and pretend that everything that happened a year ago was only a terrible nightmare. However, whenever I open my eyes and look down, I see those ugly scars screaming at me and mocking me. Telling me that I only wish it was a dream. And I do. Except one part of it.

Before the semi-normal life I had came crashing to the ground like a glass mirror, shattering into a million pieces, I met someone who, for once, made me feel something. These scars also remind me of him. The one who I was told carried me out of my mother’s ex’s burning house whenever he tried to kill me.  It’s been a year since I’ve heard from him. All I’ve heard are the things I’ve tried to ignore coming out of my television’s speakers as my mom watched the Hollywood news channels.  “Look, it’s Justin!”  She’d say, trying to pull me out of this hole I’ve been falling into. If only she knew that it was only making things worse.

If my mother had known how the fact Justin hadn’t even tried to contact me after the accident affected me, I wouldn’t have had a mental break down that night in February whenever she pointed out that he’d gotten into a relationship with Selena Gomez. Emotionally and mentally exhausted from insomnia and trying to cope with all those “joyful” emotions he’d forced me to feel all those months ago as the slowly turned into animosity and rage, I snapped. Screaming and barley able to stay on my feet due to weakness caused by my inability to tolerate eating, I made it very clear to her that I would appreciate it if we didn’t talk about him. That I didn’t care about his new fascination with Selena because as soon as her mom’s ex tries to kill her, he’ll save her and then forget about it, like he did to me.  I haven’t heard much about him from my mom since then.

However, it seems like there is no escape from it at school. It wasn’t hard for them to figure out who I was. They saw my burns and scars. They recognized my name. And with that, I got glares and rude comments made about me by almost everybody. I even got death threats. If they knew all of what they think they do, they’d know that death doesn’t scare me anymore. Everything inside me is already dead. Killing me would actually be doing me a favor.  It would probably be giving Justin one less thing to worry about too.

I would be lying if I told you that I didn’t miss him. It’s not that I don’t. The thing is is that I refuse to live my life chasing someone who obviously gave up on me. I don’t blame him though. I would have run away from me too.