Two Hearts, One Beat (Justin Bieber Fan Fiction)

Chapter 1: Lonely Nights

Chapter 1: Lonely Nights

"Sarah? Is that you?" Aunt Liza questioned as I stepped into the house. 

"No, it's the mailman." I say, sarcasm tracing my voice, "Who else would it be?"

I was exhausted after a day of searching for a job. I've already graduated from high school, however, I can't afford college just yet, so I'm forced to find a job.

I'm thinking of applying for a scholarship and getting an education for a lot cheaper, but for now that isn't the case.

"Well what's gotten into your pants tonight, grouchy?" My aunt question, no tone in her voice.

I was in no mood to argue or apologize for my attitude right now. I gave her a look as I took off my shoes and placed my keys on the table positioned beside the door.

"Ha-ha, so funny I forgot to laugh," I noted sarcastically as I made my way up the stairs.

Walking up the stairs, I passed the multiple pictures hanging on the yellow wall next to me. Sometimes I wonder what they are doing, or if they ever think of the upcoming day as much as myself.

The day in which I always dread.

It was awhile ago, and truthfully, I don't think anyone remembers as they all pushed it to the darkest corner in their mind. The section where the cobwebs hand and lost memories are held.

I don't think anyone else has a problem with it like I do. After all, they meant more to me than anyone else.

As I walked down the upstairs hallway, the smell of the thick wood and dusty air fill my lungs.

The rusty old house in which I resided in came to my attention. This house was over a century old and yet it still contains that magical feeling that it's had since I was younger.

I passed plenty of unused guest rooms, and stopped at Uncle Mark in his studio doing what he does best, painting.

His infamous paintings are actually really good. Most of the time he paints the outdoor shots he captures, or people he's seen walking about.

Many have been sold for quite some money, but not as much as I think their worth. One day though, he will become a famous aspiring artist, known for his wonderful paintings. Then maybe things will get better.

His brow furrowed as he saw me staring at him through the doorway.

"Take a picture, sweetheart. Lasts longer," He joked  furrowing his brow, his lips turning into a grin.

He has always had that funny side to him, no matter what the occasion. He can always improve the mood in a room. Today wasn't that day, though.

"What's with everyone's jokes? Is it pick on Sarah day?" I snapped.

His smile faded, and his face turned, returning to his painting.

I'm glad he knows when to stop.

I continue walking down the hall and finally make it into to my room, the largest bedroom in the house.

I looked around and realized how much I had changed that year. No more innocent, youthful Sarah, only hollow and mature.

Maybe this is why my life became a sopping pile of mess.

No, not today, you're not gonna cry today.

I shook out of my thoughts as quickly as I could, instead turning to my closet and shuffling through it. I found a pair of sweats and a light t-shirt, quickly changing into them.

I crawled under my covers, snuggling into their warmth.

I grabbed my phone from the bedside table and swiftly checked it, cringing from the unnatural light, preferring the full moon's light, beaming through my balcony window.

No New Messages, it read.

"Of course not," I breathed, setting my phone down and attaching it to the charger.

The clock on my night stand read 8:06, but I was exhausted. I cuddled back into my covers and turned on my side, staring blankly at the wall before my eyes drifted off.

This is how my nights are every day, quiet and lonely.

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Hey! I'm feeling really confident. I hope you like it! :) more to come! Thanks to you guys for reading. Hope you liked it so far. Let me know in the comments below!

(Very short. Very sorry! It gets better I promise!)