One word. Scared. He was there. The boy that all the girls in my school rage about and I, of course, am terrified of him. So he's here. In front of me. On the floor. Dead.


1. Him

       You'd think I would be extremely excited to meet Justin Bieber, right?  Wrong.  I'm the one girl that hates him.  The one girl that everybody calls "Loser" and "Hater".  Hey, what can i say. Middle Schools a jungle.  Its all my sisters fault.  She told me to stay in the car while she went into 711 to pick up some things for my mom.  There he was.  I saw this guy walking around the block dressed in all black but with bright purple high tops.  I vaguely remember him creeping up to my car and knocking on my window.  You could obviously tell he had been drinking.  

      "You know where the nearest hotel is?" he growled in a raspy voice.  That was all he said.  Before I got to answer he fell flat on the side walk.  I couldn't tell if he passed out of if he died.  I didn't know.  I called 911.  I took off his sunglasses he had been wearing.  It was Justin Bieber.  The Justin Bieber.  When I started to tell the police that Justin Bieber passed out on the sidewalk and was now in the back of my sisters car they didn't really believe me and told me to call back when I have a real emergency.  What was I going to do?  What was I going to say when my sister came back?  What will I do if he doesn't wake up?  What will I do when he does?

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