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

|Self-Conclusion|Justin Bieber|4|

I sat on the small leather couch, staring across the room. Justin is staring off into space as he sits in a bar chair. It’s been almost an hour and we haven’t spoken. I’ve since turned the television off, there is nothing but the sound of the fire popping in the wood stove across the room. That is if you aren’t counting the screaming voices in my head, arguing with each other. My head ache from the constant chaos that dictates my mind. The calm and collected thoughts that once occupied it have retreated, gone into hiding now that Justin is here. As though Justin is their kryptonite.

Every few minutes he glances at me, trying to figure me out. He took another glance and yawned, pulling his jacket off and setting it on the bar. He stretched his arms out and I caught a glimpse of a discoloration of the skin on his right arm. When I first noticed it I thought I may have been hallucinating. It wouldn’t be the first time. Then I secretively stole another look at it. I thought it was secret peek, but he caught me.  I told myself not to look at him, but, as always, it was as though my thoughts were attempting to get a stone to roll over. They did nothing to stop me.

He stole my gaze and held it for a couple seconds before he dared to open his mouth and speak, “What are you staring at, Aiden?”

My blank stare quickly turned into a scowl and I turned my head defiantly. He gave out an exasperated sigh and hopped down from his chair, approaching me. I felt cornered when he kneeled down in front of me. I showed obvious refusal to look at him. He searched my face for some sign of life, for something he most likely wouldn’t find.

“You know you’re not fooling me, A,” He stated, “I saw you look at my scar.”

“Then why ask what I’m looking at?” I asked quietly, still not looking at him.

“Because I wanted you to at least say something to me,” he said, “something that didn’t include having you get upset.”

“Well, now you know what I was looking at, so why do you insist on continuing on with your incessant talking?” I said through pursed lips.

“Aiden, you don’t realize that all this affected me too. I just want to hear your voice,” He spoke calmly.

I said nothing because I knew that my inner demons were fighting to break loose and attack him and opening my mouth would risk letting them out. He lifted up his arm and set in in my lap, revealing the god-awful scar. It was fairly quiet for a long moment as he thought about what to say.

“You’re not the only one scarred, you know?” He said and I glanced down at it.

I knew what it was. I just didn’t want to think about it. One mark, he got. I got over a hundred. Physical scars and mental scars. I know that any normal human being would have felt bad, asked about it, or even gotten upset over it, but I stared at is as though it meant nothing to me.

“I got this burn from saving your life, Aiden. It’s a constant reminder of that fall night when I ran into a house that was already doomed to burn down to get you out of there. Yet you say nothing…” He said.

Already on the edge of breaking, I pushed his arm off of me and rolled up the sleeves of my jacket, revealing the horrific scars that resided there. Stitch marks an all.

“Don’t act like you got it the worst. Don’t you fucking DARE try to tell me that you went down the hardest,” I found myself on my feet, taking my jacket completely off and throwing it to the ground, “Do you not remember that I was the one being TORTURED in the basement of that ‘burning house’? “

He stood in order to make eye contact with me as I confronted him.

“For the love of God, Justin, do you even see what’s right in front of your fucking face?” I said, beginning to raise my voice once again and I began, with no shame, taking off my shirt to reveal the disgusting scar tissue from the severe burns I had suffered as they seemed to take over my entire stomach and back, “You think that’s a scar? Look at this ugly body that’s been created!”

 He looked me up and down strangely, taking in more than just my burns. Like he was counting each rib the protruded through my skin.

“You should have let me die there. It would have been a much quicker demise than this slowly deteriorating existence that I call my life. If you were just going to leave, then you should have watched the flames burn with everyone else on the curbs of Katie Ln. If you’d done that, then you wouldn’t be here in this mess!” I yelled.

“Aiden, I told you that I didn’t want to leave,” he argued.

  “but you did, Justin! You left me! You left me there to suffer alone! You left me! Why the fuck did you leave me? All I wanted was for you to be there for me! But you left! Why? Why? Why?” I pleaded, finding myself beating against his chest with my fists.  Though shirtless, but still in my bra, I had no shame for my vulnerability there as I sobbed uncontrollably.  I actually felt stronger than ever, being able to express my true feelings about what happened.

It was fairly quiet for a moment, with only my sobs and gasps for air breaking the silence as I hit him relentlessly. Suddenly, I was constricted by two strong arms. The two strong arms that I had wanted to feel around me for so long. At that moment, every muscle in my body decided to give up and I fell to the floor, but he didn’t let go as he fell to his knees. I wanted to badly to fight against him, to continue making my point him. However, I could do no more than sit limply on the floor, him holding me tightly.

Whether he had his arms around me to stop me from hitting him or to comfort me is uncertain, but either way there was nothing I could do about it at this point in time. Tears fell until there were no more tears to cry but the gasping and whimpering didn’t cease despite how hard I fought to get myself under control. Justin gently rocked back and forth as though I was a baby and loosened his grip on me. He rested one hand on my head, his fingers entangled in my hair, and the other rested on my shoulder where his other arm was still wrapped around me.

“I know you’re hurting,” he whispered softly, his mouth relatively close to my ear. I couldn’t catch my breath in order to reply and he carried on, “But what you have been too stubborn to realize is that I hurt too. Maybe not as bad as you because I can see it has taken its toll on more than just your heart. It’s written all over your face. It’s all over your body, and I don’t mean the burns…what I’m trying to say is that you’re not alone in this.”

“Why, though?” I choked out the forbidden question and anticipated the dreaded answer.

“I left because I was trying to protect you.  I knew that the chaos and limited privacy that comes with being around me wouldn’t be good for you. So I left,” he said blankly.

I suddenly stopped struggling for air and looked up at him, confused.

“It hurt to leave you there like that. I honestly didn’t think it would do more harm than good. I can see it obviously did, now,” He stated, starting to get upset.

“I want to die, Justin. I’m not sure if you understand really how much damage you caused…” I said hoarsely. I could see tears forming in his eyes.

“I can see it now,” he said, “and it hurt so bad to go like that. I don’t even know what was going through my head now.” He, again, tightened his grip around me, “I don’t want to do that again. Just please let me fix it.”

I thought for a second before I opened my mouth to speak, “I’ll give you tonight.” It was quiet as he did not answer me. “If you ruin it, I will end it all for the both of us.”

“End it?” he asked.

“I’ll most likely end up dead before tomorrow night if you hurt me one more time, I’m already bruised and scarred inside and out and I can’t take one more beating,” I replied.