Lonely Together (Justin Bieber Fanfiction)

Chapter 41

I had been crying for about three hours, the pain becoming unbearable.

What if Sharon was dead?

All I wanted was to know Justin was still okay, but that was impossible, because he was still mad at me for accusing him of being J.

I wish I could take it back. I feel so stupid and horrible. I loved him, and I know for a fact that he would never try to hurt me.

It was nearing midnight. It was raining harder then it's ever rained. I hadn't eaten all day, nor had I gotten any sleep these past few days. I was a total wreck.

I can't say that I'm surprised though. Of course J would kidnap Sharon right after I find out she's my mom. I mean, the world seems to hate me.

I wish I could cuddle up to Justin right now, and just be in his presence. He was so caring and comforting, it made me miss him ten times more.

Lightening flashed through the curtains when I suddenly heard the doorbell ring. I was scared to answer it without Justin here, especially with all that's been going on.

I reluctantly went up to the door, the rain pounded against it when I neared closer. I opened it slowly, hoping it wasn't someone who could hurt me.

I saw a silhouette of a masculine figure, and once he stepped into the light, my heart stopped beating in my chest.

Justin, with blood gushing out of his arm, stood there with tears streaming his cheeks.

"I- I'm not J, and I can prove it."

_______________________________

I had never seen him sob in my entire life, but I guess there's a first for everything.

"J tried to stab me Jess, just like he did with Brooklyn, and Jennifer, and Riley." He gulped. "He was so close, but I moved away in time. He got my arm so bad though," he looked down at his blood drenched skin, squeezing his eyes shut.

"Oh my god," I felt my eyes get wet.

I had almost lost him. J almost killed Justin.

"It was for sure a man," he said. "But it wasn't me, I'm not J." His bottom lip quivered, his voice cracking. "I'm not J."

All I wanted to do was squeeze him so tight he couldn't breathe, and never let him go. His arm prevented from me doing so, though.

"I'm so sorry," I whispered.

His arm continually bled while I tried to figure out what to do. I dabbed it with a towel slightly, making him cry out in pain. All I do is hurt him.

Throughout the entire process, I found myself saying, "I'm sorry" more than fifty times. I couldn't stop, it's like I felt as though everything was my fault.

I started to wrap his arm in gauze, while he sat there and silently cried. I felt terrible, awful. J almost took his life.

"Do you remember," I started, trying to think of words to say. "When your dad hurt you, and you came to me?" I smiled slightly. "And we were in this exact same spot, doing this exact same thing."

"Yeah," he said, looking up at me. "I liked you a lot."

"You did?"

"Well duh, I came to you for help," he chuckled. "I even remember what you wore that day."

My heart sank deep in my chest. He remembers the smallest things, but the smallest things mean the most. And I was so happy he realized that.

"It was even raining, just like it is now."