3: Stolen

Everything is being stolen. Their friends, their family, and their lives have all been taken away, but who's doing it? At first--it's the Prezlocki brothers. They've taken Peyton and they want Justin to take the money. But when that problem slowly subsides, other ones rise. Where's Ryan? What happened to Chaz? Who the hell is stealing all of Justin's friends, and why does he suddenly find himself going to Peyton for help? There are so many questions, but they wont last long. Soon, they'll figure out the shocking truth about it all. © 2013 by beliebervision. All Rights Reserved.


17. Chapter 15

The sound of an extremely loud alarm clock caused Peyton to sit up abruptly in her bed. She frantically looked around the unfamiliar room that she was seated in. It was her old bedroom, in her house where she lived before she even met Justin. 

Justin, she thought, and quickly threw the covers off of herself. She realized that she was dressed in pajamas, and she wasn't in her bra and underwear like she should've been. Her heart started beating at an indescribable pace as she flung the bedroom door open and dashed down the hall. 

She found herself running down the stairs to the living room, where she smelled eggs and bacon. Normally she would've been running to the food, but she was running for one thing only. She stopped abruptly when she saw her standing there by the stove. 


Her mother craned her head around to smile at her. "Hi, honey. You hungry?" 

Peyton was at a loss for words. She slowly shook her head and tried to use her voice, but nothing happened. Her mother raised an eyebrow at her before turning around to tend to the now burning bacon. 

"But," Peyton managed to say. "Why am I here? Where's dad? Where's Braden?" 

"Your father is at work, your brother is in his bedroom. I didn't think that you were so fond of the two of them, Peyton." 

"I-I'm not supposed to be here." She said. 

Her mother turned around to face her this time, and crossed her arms. "You have school, missy. Don't even think about skipping with Faith today." 

"Faith?" Peyton started shaking. "Mom, Faith is dead. She's gone, bye bye, as in, no more. And I'm out of school already." 

"Have you been doing drugs?" Her mom asked. "Because if you have, you're in big trouble." 

Peyton shook her head. "No, mom, I'm not. I'm not shitting you. You're shitting me! You and dad are supposed to be divorced, I'm supposed to be with this nutorious bad boy and Faith is supposed to be dead!" She grabbed the nearest object to her which happened to be a lamp, and threw it on the ground. It shattered into a million pieces. 

"Peyton Marie Barillas!" Her mother gasped. "How dare you? That lamp was very expensive!" 

Peyton's bottom lip quivered, and her whole body was shaking violently now. Her mother only eyed her as if she were crazy and said: "Do you need to stay home? You seem sick. " 

"Sick?!" Her voice was up to a shriek now. "Mom! I'm not sick! I couldn't have just dreamed everything! What day is it today, what year is it, mom I'm almost twenty-three! I'm not eighteen, am I?" 

"Peyton, you were eighteen when you went to bed, I don't see why you wouldn't be eighteen now."

Peyton shrieked with frustration and stormed back up the stairs. She ran down the hallway to her bedroom and slammed the door behind her. Everything was neatly in place, like she liked it, but she didn't like that anymore. She started grabbing random objects and chucking them every which-way. After a while she started to sob and she hurled her new cellphone at the window. 

The window broke with a giant snapping noise. Peyton shielded her body with her arms, and she felt some pieces of glass scrape her skin. It was over as quickly as it had happened, and she put her hands down. With a jolt she realized that her phone was probably outside. She quickly clambered around her room to the broken window and climbed out of it, onto the big tree, and slid down to the ground. 

Sure enough, a phone was on the ground, just not an iPhone like she would've expected. It was her old phone that she had when she was in highschool. It wouldn't have Justin's number inside of it because--well, she was starting to believe that it was because Justin was a dream. That nothing had happened, and she was still eighteen. 

With a sigh, she tucked the phone into her pocket and returned to the living room. Her mom was waiting for her with her backpack. She gave her a kiss on the forehead and sent her off. With a sigh, and lots of sobbing, she walked to school. 

As she approached the front steps, she received many skeptical looks from the kids that were standing out there, smoking. She eyed them back for a moment before entering the school. The kids inside took no hesitation in glaring at her as she walked by, and she felt compelled to bend her head down, but she didn't. 

She shoved her backpack into her locker and slammed it, not caring about the extra looks that she received. She didn't know what her first class was anymore, and she was surprised that she'd even remembered her locker number and combination, because her dream had seemed so real. But as she picked her way carefully around the hallways, she noticed a familiar figure weaving their way among the throng of high schoolers. 

Tall with caramel hair and hazel eyes. Dark clothing, Black Supras, hood up. Peyton had no doubt about who it was, so she ran towards him. He must have heard her coming, because his picked up his pace and turned a corner. Peyton slowed down as she turned the same corner, and she found him trying to open up the fire escape door. 

"Justin Drew Bieber," She spat and stalked towards him. He whipped his head around to look at her and his eyes were cloudy, like he wasn't comprehending the fact that she'd figured out what he'd done. She stared into his cloudy eyes, with tears brimming in her own. With a shaky voice, she continued. "You fucking stop right there, or I will kill you." 

With a sigh, he let go of the door handle and spun around to face her. He tucked his hands into his back pockets and rocked nervously on his heels. "I'm listening." 

She took her hand and whacked it clearly across his cheek. He winced, but said nothing. "Good." Peyton mused. "Because you're in so much trouble." 

"I figured." 

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