Remembering Sunday

“So tell me, why are you here.” Robert, my new favorite guy in the earth, my therapist or problem teller asked me as I lay on the couch lounge across from him.

“Well,” I said adjusting myself and resting my hands on top of my chest. “I left to go on tour, and so tour was great, the energy was insane and all that stuff, you know what I mean.” I said.

“I am afraid I never sang in front of thousands of screaming girls.” Robert said crossing his legs.

“Well, you should try. Back to the story. One night, I was in Nebraska, and my mom got a phone call and gasped. So she came into my room and I was playing Call of Duty. And then she told me the-the news.”

“What was the news.” He asked looking suddenly interested in what I was going to say next.

“She said that Chaz, Ryan, and Sunday got in a car accident and they don’t think that Chaz will make it.”

“And who are Ryan and Sunday?”

“They are my dead friends.” I said.

“But you just said that Chaz is the one dying.” Robert said in a confused tone of voice.

“Yeah, I am aware of that. Just let me continue. So, I la la la tour went on, lets fast forward to about four days ago, and I met Sunday again, and we hung, and then I hung with Ryan. So then like yesterday I went to go see Chaz and he told me that Sunday and Ryan were dead. Then I ran home and then my mom told me I Chaz was dead. So then I came to the conclusion that I am seeing someone dead, and I need a therapist. So I am here.”

“Wow.” Robert muttered. “You need help.”

“No shit Sherlock!” I said with a voice that was covered in sarcasm.

“Well, anything else you want to add?”

“Just I wanna know who is dead or not!” I snapped.

“Okay, I will look up some records now.” he said pushing his chair toward his desk with a little Mac Airbook that sat upon it. The apple was glowing, it was making me want an apple.

“Do you have an apple?” I asked sitting up.

“What? An apple?”

“Yupp.” I said popping the “P”. “I am hungry.”

“Um check in the fruit bowl.” He said looking up from his laptop before typing again.

I slowly got up and made my way to get a red apple. I only like red ones, the green ones are too sour, and the yellow ones are ugly.

“I found it!” Robert yelled as he read over the page.

“What did you find.” I asked taking a bite out of the juicy apple. The bit made a loud crisp noise, followed by a slurping sound that I made as I sucked the juice off the apple that had came out when I bit into it.

“The police report, Justin.” Robert said. “Chaz is the one who died. I’m so sorry.”

“NO!” I cried or in better words, screamed.

“Justin, it’s okay.” he said trying to calm me down by touching my shoulder.

I shrugged it off and began pacing. “Stop it, no! Are you for real! I-I need to go to his grave. I NEED TO FUCKING GO TO HIS FUCKING GRAVE!” I screamed before running out of the room.

I heard Robert sigh heavily as I exited. I guess he gets that a lot, this is why I am a singer, not a therapist.

***

[I[“Chaz Grover Somers- 11/3/94 - 6/19/10
Rest in Peace.
You will be missed.
God Bless.” I mumbled to myself as I tried to read it through my tearing eyes. I saw something else in script at the bottom. I kneeled down to get a better look at it.

”But we meet in the middle, on our way Back Down To Earth~Justin Bieber” It read and tears poured out of my eyes like buckets.

I felt a light touch on my shoulder and I looked around to see Sunday standing there with tears in her eyes too.

“I miss him too.” She muttered before breaking down and wrapping her arms around me.

My arms found there way around her waist and they held her tight. We sat there sobbing in each others arms.

“Its-its all my fault.” She sobbed.

“No-no its not.” I said trying to sooth her.

“NO! its all my fault! AND YOU KNOW IT! I SHOULDN’T HAVE BEEN IN AN IDIOT!” She cried.

I tightened my grip on her and started mumbling the lyrics to “Pray” in her ear and rubbing her back. “I love you Sunday.”

“I love you too Justin.”