tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22598763974945090922024-03-13T22:40:00.879-04:00SweetVenom69SweetVenom69http://www.blogger.com/profile/16891131791448534680noreply@blogger.comBlogger32125truetag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2259876397494509092.post-53622027036095611742011-01-19T21:54:00.001-05:002011-01-19T21:54:27.139-05:00Chapter 17Playlist selection: Higher – by Creed<br />
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Edward POV<br />
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I tear out of Bella’s apartment like my goddamn ass is on fire. What the fuck is wrong with me? Why am I running like a pansy-assed bitch? She was my fiancée—the woman I was supposed to marry, have babies with, grow old with... <br />
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Fuck.<br />
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I'm not paying attention to where I'm going when I hear footsteps toward my right, approaching quickly. They run parallel to me through the forest, far enough away that I can't see them, but I can hear the faint crushing of moss and leaves beneath their feet. I'm upwind from them, so I don't know if it's one of my family members or some renegade nomad looking for a fight. Picking up speed as I reach the Elwah River, I cross and turn back to Sourdough Mountain—my favorite thinking spot.<br />
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The footsteps fade off in the distance, but I continue to the rocky outcrop near the top. I sprawl out on the largest boulder and stare up in to the clear night sky, trying to sort this shit out. I'm so lost in my head that I don't hear him approaching.<br />
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“Don't think so hard, son. You'll start growing brain cells back,” Carlisle chuckles from a rock set further above me on the ridge.<br />
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“Hey, Carlisle.”<br />
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He's quiet for a few moments, gathering his thoughts I guess. “You want to talk about it?”<br />
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I shake my head and shrug my shoulders. “What's there to talk about?” It's a cop-out, but I'm at a fucking loss for words.<br />
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“Hmm.” He nods his head and looks out over the valley below. “I just wanted to tell you how proud Esme and I are of you." I raise an eyebrow at him, wondering where the fuck he's going with this conversation. "You are a very smart, caring, and compassionate young man, son."<br />
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Son. He's called me this since the first time we met after Alice, Esme, and Emmett brought me home from Arizona. It's sad that I don't remember my human father, but I couldn't have asked for a better man as my father-figure for this life...or non-life. Whatever.<br />
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“Um, thanks, Carlisle.” I appreciate the compliments, but I'm still thrown for a loop here. <br />
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He continues. "And I hope you continue to be the strong, responsible, and loving man that Bella will need you to be."<br />
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“Ha! I hate to break this to you, Carlisle, but I'm pretty damn sure I've already had the 'birds and the bees' talk." I laugh and roll my eyes, silently begging for him to drop this nonsense.<br />
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"No, Edward, relax. I just wanted to tell you that we love you very much, and regardless of the road you choose for your life—with or without Bella—we are all here for you, son."<br />
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Well, shit. What does one say to that?<br />
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"I, uhh... I mean, umm, thanks, Carlisle. That really means a lot." I stare up at him in confusion. What's with all the sentimental shit? "Uhh, is everything okay?"<br />
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"Yeah, everything is fine. I just thought that I should tell my son how I feel, to let you know how much of a wonderful man you've come to be."<br />
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Suddenly, I get a sense of déjà vu. I swear I've had this same conversation before.<br />
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We sit in silence on neighboring boulders for a while, me thinking about a possible future with Bella and him mindlessly chiseling shards of granite with his fingernail. I glance out over the valley, imagining Bella and I sitting up here together, admiring the view, holding her in my arms, and instantly knowing that she's my purpose in this fucked-up existence we vampires call a life. <br />
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I spring to my feet quickly, thank Carlisle for his encouraging words, and take off at top speed back to Forks. The sun is approaching the horizon--dawn is breaking over the mountains--and I need to get back to Bella's before she wakes up. I can't let her think I've left her again, especially after my dumb ass didn't even leave her a note. What if she woke up in the middle of the night to find me gone? Jesus, what if she cried herself to sleep because I'm an idiot and didn't tell her I'd be back? <br />
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Dumbass!<br />
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I plunder through the forests north of Forks, hurdle over the Calawah River, and eventually dart between the houses of the town, desperate to get back to her apartment. I don't even care if someone sees me whizzing by them. Fuck them. The only thing that matters right now is getting to Bella.<br />
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The moment I round the corner of her street, the familiar scents of Alice, Jasper, Esme, and Carlisle hit me. I remember they were perched nearby last night, ready to help me if I needed them, before I sent them away to hunt. As I near Bella's apartment, I suddenly notice a new scent. It's sweet, like brown sugar and honey, and I recognize it immediately as vampire, but not from anyone I've met in the past. I came across this particular scent in the forest outside of Port Townsend a few months ago, but it was faint at the time, the owner already long gone from the area.<br />
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But now he or she is back in our territory, near my Bella, and I'm not fucking having it! <br />
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I follow the scent directly up to Bella's house, panic setting in immediately, and I scope out the perimeter. The scent is concentrated by the front door, but it wraps around the side of the house near her window. I check for any signs that the vampire may have gotten inside, but find nothing except for the slow, steady beat of Bella's heart thrumming away inside the apartment. I smile to myself, knowing she's still asleep.<br />
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I quietly open the front door and slip inside, thankful that the scent isn't in her apartment too. The bird is still covered in her cage, so I speed past it to Bella's bed, kneel bedside her on the floor, and lightly run my hand over her hair.<br />
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"Good morning, beautiful," I whisper so low she doesn't hear it. I smile as she hums in her sleep, and I trail my finger around her ear and revel in the new memory that floods through my mind.<br />
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A school-aged Bella is sitting on the floor in front of a ratty palm tree, decorated as a Christmas tree, and she hands me a medium-sized package wrapped in Scooby Doo holiday paper. Her cheeks are pink, and she focuses her attention to the dark green corduroy dress she has on, playing with the button like it's the most fascinating thing she's ever seen. I toss a red and green gift bag into her lap and focus my attention on my own present. Tearing open the paper, I discover my first insect specimen collection kit. Cool! <br />
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Bella knew me so well, even as a little kid.<br />
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She stirs a bit more in her sleep and rolls away from me toward the wall. Instinctively, I crawl up behind her, laying my body along hers and wrap my arm across her waist, over the blanket. She lightly settles back against my chest, her breathing slow and even as she sleeps snuggled in my arms.<br />
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Being this close to Bella for more than a few seconds has got to be the most delightful fucking torture I've ever experienced. The venom is flowing in my mouth like a goddamn river, but it's not like I can really control it. I hold my breath, but the burning in my throat is still there. It doesn't matter, because as long as she's in my arms, my whole body can catch on fire for all I care. Well, no, that wouldn't work either...<br />
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Suddenly, her fucking alarm clock starts blaring and she's startled awake, quickly whipping her head around to look at who's in her bed in a panic. “What the...?”<br />
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“Morning, Bella,” I say softly, smiling at her sheepishly. I know she never invited me into her bed, and I would have been freaked out, too, to wake up to someone snuggled around me, but deep fucking down I know I belong here...and I know she feels the same way too. “Oh, Edward, you stayed...” She smiles at me and blushes deeply before turning toward the bedside table and silencing the alarm.<br />
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“Class today, right?” It's not like I really forgot that she has school this morning, but I don't want her to think I'm some sort of fucking stalker that knows her schedule better than she does.<br />
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She nods and rolls out of bed. “Yeah. I have to meet Jake at the diner before class.” She looks nervously at me over her shoulder from the bathroom doorway, her thoughts worried that I would be pissed about her meeting another guy for breakfast. Her heartbeat doubles as she hurries through her explanation. “I mean, we discuss our research for our ecology class and stuff. He's married. He and his wife, Leah, are really good friends of mine and, um...”<br />
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I roll off the far side of the bed, not wanting to seem like a perv all coiled up in her blankets, ready to strike and drag her back in—preferably naked, of course. Although, that's not a bad idea... I shake my gutter thoughts and smile at her, already knowing all about this Jake douche, of course, but wanting to calm her fears. I can't have my girl thinking I'm the jealous type.<br />
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Oh, right...because I really am. Ha!<br />
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“I'd love to meet your friends sometime, Bella. That is, if you'd like to introduce them to me.” Fuck. Why did my voice actually crack when I finished that sentence? It's like I'm fucking nervous to meet these humans.<br />
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Anyway, I walk into her kitchen, thinking I could start some coffee for her while she's getting dressed or whatever she's doing in the bathroom. I smile as I hear the coffee maker automatically kick on, and I prop myself up against the counter, waiting for it to finish brewing. <br />
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I chuckle as I hear Bella mumbling to herself in the bathroom, chastising herself for having to meet Jake today of all days and considering canceling their plans so she can spend a bit more time with me before class, but I don't want to outstay my welcome since I “stayed” all night.<br />
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I wonder if I should tell her that I left for a bit while she slept? I glance back at the bathroom door, smiling smugly as I hear her thinking about my voice whispering in her ear when she woke up, and how it turned her on... Nah.<br />
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The moment her small pot of coffee is finished brewing, she shuffles out of the bathroom, apologizing for hogging it while she got ready for her day. I smile and wave off worry but decide to keep up normal human appearances and make a quick trip to the bathroom to pretend to take a piss.<br />
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Just like any other visitor, I fucking snoop. I peek into her shower, taking note of the shampoo and body wash she uses. I scope out the various bottles and packages of random over-the-counter medications for colds and flus and notice a package of birth control pills. Yeah, like she's going to need those...<br />
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Wait a fucking minute! Did she need them over the last few years? Suddenly, I see red, but I shove that shit down. Don't jump to fucking conclusions, Edward. For Christ's sake, she thought you were dead. The old, metal faucet handle buckles slightly under my grasp. I take in a deep breath, only to torture myself more by filling my lungs with Bella's alluring scent, and I let it out harshly, letting my possessive emotions go.<br />
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I meet her back in the kitchen as she mixes a bowl of grits and smiles up at me as she passes, heading into the dining room.<br />
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“Morning, Carrumba,” she coos as she pulls the sheet from over the cage. The bird shakes its feathers, sending tiny motes of dander and fluff all over the place. I watch as Bella reaches inside, collects the bird, and brings it to stand at the far end of the dining room table. “Breakfast time.”<br />
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Bella looks up at me with a small smile, and I can't help but forget any thoughts completely and smirk back at her. Fuck! She's got me whipped and I haven't even gotten back in her pants yet... I mean again... whatever. I laugh lightly at myself and sit in one of the chairs across the table from where the bird is cautiously watching me. Bella scoots the bowl closer to the bird and lifts a spoon with some of the grits in it, and Carrumba gobbles it up.<br />
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'I wish he remembered Carrumba. I wonder if...” Bella pushes the bowl closer to me, glances at me quickly before scooping the bird in her hands, and moving it closer to the bowl... and me. Carrumba starts squawking and flapping her wings as she hobbles back toward Bella.<br />
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“I don't think she likes me, Bella.”<br />
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She laughs and walks back into the kitchen. “She's probably not used to you being around anymore, Edward. You two were best buddies.” Bella looks over her shoulder at me as she reaches into a cabinet. “Talk to her.”<br />
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I look at my beautiful girl like she's lost her mind for a moment before turning back to the bird at the far end of the table. Thankfully, it's chilled the fuck out and is perched quietly on the top of the chair back. I mumble under my breath, “This bird's going to have a heart attack.” I take a deep, unnecessary breath to gather enough machismo to make small talk with the pea-brained animal. “Hello.”<br />
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Of course it doesn't talk back. It just tilts its head at odd angles, getting a better look at me. Bella returns to the kitchen to pour herself a cup of coffee, and I continue with my one-sided conversation.<br />
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“Hi, Carrumba.”<br />
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Nothing.<br />
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I reach for the small bowl and stir the clumpy contents with the spoon. “You want some, uhh, grits?”<br />
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“...so cute.” Bella chuckles quietly in the kitchen, but of course I can still hear her.<br />
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The stupid bird just keeps quirking its head, watching my movements but not making a goddamn peep. I turn toward Bella as she comes to stand next to me, observing my major fail at animal-whispering. “I told you, babe. I don't think she likes me.”<br />
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“Keep trying. I'm going to get ready real quick.” She glances over her shoulder at the clock on the stove and turns toward the tiny closet near the bathroom. I keep my eyes glued to her as she walks away, scanning her body shamelessly, paying a bit more attention on her nice little ass. What? I'm a man, for fuck's sake.<br />
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When she closes the bathroom door, I turn my attention back to the bird and notice it has moved closer, standing next to the bowl, eying the contents hungrily. I hold still, not wanting to spook it, and I start talking to it softly.<br />
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“Hey, sweet bird. I know you recognize me, but I'm sorry I don't remember you.” I sigh and close my eyes for a moment, trying to think of something to say. “You see, something tragic happened when I was human, and I don't even know where to begin.” Carrumba cautiously leans into the bowl, takes a beak full of the pasty grits and mulls it around with her tongue. I continue with my monologue. “I'm not the same guy you remember. I mean, well, I am, but I'm not. I'm dead. The living dead. Kind of like a zombie, but way fucking cooler.” <br />
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I turn my head to peek at the bathroom door, ensuring it's still closed. I already know it is, but I guess it's a human action that just seems natural to do before spilling a major secret to someone, err, something for the first time. “I'm a vampire.”<br />
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Unfazed by my admission, Carrumba takes another bite of grits and then wipes her beak off on the woven placemat on the table. I smirk at her, thankful she doesn't really understand a goddamn thing I've just said, but grateful that I'm able to actually say those words to another living being without it being my family members or the dead carcass of an elk or bear.<br />
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The bathroom door handle jiggles and I keep up the façade of having a meaningful conversation with Carrumba and that I don't notice Bella approaching us. “I'm going to teach you animal sounds, Carrumba. Maybe we can make it into a game...”<br />
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“She already knows some. You taught them to her,” Bella says from next to me as she lightly places her hand on my shoulder. “Jesus, he's even cold through his clothes...” <br />
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I turn my face up to her, smiling brightly as if I just realized she's standing next to me. “Oh yeah? Which ones does she know?”<br />
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Bella gives my shoulder one more slight squeeze before she trails her hand down my arm. “And hard. He's like a solid mass of stone.” She clears her throat and turns her attention to Carrumba before she speaks. “Well, she knows the sounds kitty cats, dogs, chickens, roosters, pigs, and donkeys make.” <br />
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“Donkeys?”<br />
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“Yep. Peter taught her that one.” Bella shakes her head and laughs. She notices my apparent blank stare and clarifies. “Peter was your best friend, Edward. He was going to be your best man in the wedding. He and Angela lived in the house between ours. I'll show you a picture.” Of course I remember who Peter is from our conversation last night, but I don't say anything as she leaves the table, grabs a photo album from the bookshelf, and brings it back, flipping through the insert pages until she finds one of him. “Here. This was taken on our way to our Senior Prom. Our parents all pitched in and rented us a limo for the night. Peter had stolen another case of beer from his dad's liquor stash. We were a bit tipsy before we got to the prom.”<br />
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I glance down at the picture, skipping right over the dark-haired boy she was pointing to and staring at the snapshot of my profile. My human profile. Not that I look any different, really, but it just brings back the reality of what I am now. A cold, hard, pale, lifeless person. A far cry from the warm-blooded, fragile, tan-skinned, living being I was then.<br />
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My inner musings are quickly interrupted by Bella's sudden cursing. <br />
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“Oh shit!” “Oh, shit!”<br />
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“What's wrong?” I'm on my feet and standing beside her before she turns to look at me. My sudden appearance at her side startles her and she looks at me, confused, and then back to the couch where I was a second ago.<br />
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“How the hell...?” She shakes her head quickly “Um, I'm late! I'm sorry, Edward, I need to leave.”<br />
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“Okay,” I say simply. A million and one thoughts run through my head: Should I just say goodbye and leave her? Should I ask to drive her to class? No, that wouldn't work—I don't have my car. Should I kiss her before I leave? Or maybe just a hug? Should I ask her if I can come back to visit later when she's out of school? I glance outside and notice the sun is shining brightly. Fucking hell. How can we leave at the same time and her not notice my goddamn shimmery skin?<br />
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Bella is scrambling around the apartment, putting the bird in its cage, and gathering her school supplies. I take this opportunity to head outside before her. “So, um, Bella, I'm gonna head home. Would it be okay if maybe I stopped by later this afternoon?”<br />
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She looks up from rummaging in her backpack, a small smile on her lips. “Yeah, that would be wonderful. Um, maybe I can make dinner tonight.” Her cheeks turn pink and she looks away from me and toward the television. “Maybe I'll make him his favorite meal from back home...”<br />
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Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck. How can I get out of this? I can't let her know I don't eat human food anymore. Think quick, fucker.<br />
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“Oh, yeah, that sounds...awesome.” How is that thinking on your feet, dumbass? It definitely doesn't come out very convincingly. Fuck. “Or maybe we could go out to dinner? I could take you to this great place in Port Angeles.” There are nice restaurants in Port Angeles, right? How the fuck would I know? Shit! I don't want to have to eat human food again. Having to do that after losing a bet to Emmett and Jazz was torture enough... Ugh.<br />
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She smiles and nods her head slowly; her thoughts waffle between going out or staying in. “Okay. How about we go out tonight? Meet me back here around four o'clock?” <br />
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“Sounds perfect, ladybug.” <br />
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“Oh my God...” Bella gasps and stares at me with an open mouth. What? What did I say? She recovers from her shock, blushes, and then whispers, ”Okay.”<br />
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I offer a small smile and nod, still not really knowing why the sudden freak out, but whatever. “Okay, cool.” I stare at her for a moment, wanting to kiss her before I leave, but thinking maybe I should wait until later after our date. This is a date, right? I make my way over to the door, thankful that it faces north and it's not in the direct line of the rising sun. “I'll see you later on, Bella.”<br />
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Slipping out the front door casually, I turn back to Bella and wave as I pull the door closed. Trying to keep calm and collected is usually pretty easy for me, but I have to work twice as hard to keep a game face on and not alert Bella to my anxiety. Inside, I'm freaking the fuck out. The moment the door closes behind me, I make a quick circle around the house's perimeter, smelling the air to see if any more vampires have been around her apartment. The only scent I notice is the fading one from earlier. Good.<br />
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I sprint back to my house, dutifully avoiding being seen by humans, to find Emmett sitting on the front porch steps. We do the manly half hand slap/half hand shake thing, and I sit down on the step next to him.<br />
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“Have a nice night, Edward?” He smirks, giving me a sidelong glance. What the fuck does he think happened?<br />
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“Wouldn't you like to know, jackass...” Childish, yes, but it's none of his fucking business that nothing happened.<br />
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“I thought maybe... y'know... got a little... y'know...” He jabs me in the ribs with his elbow and wiggles his eyebrows.<br />
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“No, Emmett. I didn't get any pussy, okay? And if Bella and I do anything in the future, I'm not telling you.” <br />
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“Aw, c'mon, man. I just wanna know what it's like to be with a human. I bet it's like fucking a warm pillow...” He stares off toward the forest surrounding our property. Jesus Christ...I don't want to visualize the thoughts flashing through his mind right now. <br />
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I leave Emmett to his musings and head inside, calling out to the rest of the family. They need to know about the stranger in Forks. <br />
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Alice meets me in the living room with a slight smile on her face. “Morning, brother. Carlisle is in his study, and the others will be back in approximately eight minutes.”<br />
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“Thanks. I'll just go grab a-”<br />
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“Yeah, yeah.” She waves her hand in a shoo-ing motion. “See you back here in seventeen minutes.” Alice winks as she plops down on the sofa and curls her feet under her.<br />
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I laugh and shake my head, not even bothering to reply to her. I climb the stairs to my bedroom and lay down on my chaise lounge, locking my hands together behind my head. My eyes close for a few moments while I think about Bella and try to wrap my head around the enormity of our situation. So many things can go wrong: Bella could expose us to the public if she ever finds out the truth about us or she could be hurt or killed because of our secret, for starters. However, if there's a chance in Hell, I may be able to have someone who fulfills my life, a lover... a mate. So many unknowns. I sigh loudly into my empty room and get up, heading back downstairs to meet the family... exactly seventeen minutes later.<br />
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Once in the living room, I'm instantly bombarded with questions about my night with Bella. Alice just sits with a slight smile on her face, already having seen this and knowing what really happened last night. I give the rest of the family the highlights of the night: finally speaking to Bella, the photo albums, the scorpion in the glass box, the bird, and her falling asleep. I skip over the part about my minor freakout and tell them that I was bored and went for a run while Bella slept. Alice's lips twitch minutely and I give her a pointed glare. I know she wouldn't call me out for being a pussy about stuff last night. Carlisle gives me a slight nod, letting me know my secret is safe with him.<br />
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I go into more detail about the memory flashes and being able to only hear Bella's thoughts. Carlisle, Alice, and Jasper break off and discuss this new phenomenon amongst themselves. Emmett and Rosalie are too busy eye-fucking each other to give a shit, and Esme is mooning over the thought of Bella being my possible mate.<br />
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To bring everyone back to the whole reason why I called the family meeting in the first place, I raise my voice to get their attention. “Oh, and there's a new vampire in Forks.”<br />
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All six heads whip around to look at me with shocked expressions on their faces.<br />
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“Who?”<br />
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I shrug. “I don't know. I've never smelled this one before.”<br />
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“So, you've only smelled them, but have never seen them?” Carlisle looks to Esme and then back to me.<br />
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“Yes.”<br />
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“Where, sweetheart?” Esme reaches out to place her hand on my knee comfortingly and motherly-like.<br />
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“Around Bella's apartment.”<br />
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Rosalie scoffs. “That's it? Nowhere else in town?“<br />
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“No. When I got back from my, er, run, I caught the scent right at her apartment. It had faded, so it had been a few hours since whoever it was was there. I just wanted to get inside her home and see that she was okay.”<br />
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“Aww.” Esme gushes quietly. I ignore her.<br />
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Rosalie waves off my worry. “They probably picked up on your scent, followed it to her place, and then took off, not wanting to get caught in another vampire's territory. I wouldn't worry about it.”<br />
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“I haven't smelled any new visitors.” Emmett says and turns to Jasper. “Have you?”<br />
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“Nope.”<br />
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“Well, let's not jump to conclusions that this visitor is here to prey on Bella. Maybe Rose is right, and they had been passing through town and it was a coincidence that they wound up by her place.” Carlisle, always the voice of reason.<br />
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<br />
<br />
We all vow to be vigilant on our hunts and runs around town and to keep each other informed of any news. I endure a few teases from Jasper and Emmett about not playing with my food. I flip them off and tell them I'm headed to find Bella... and to not expect me home again tonight. Alice just chuckles. Bitch.<br />
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I take a quick shower, making sure to scrub the goods nice and well, because you just never know what will happen. I chuckle to myself at the ridiculous thought of the possibility of Bella and I getting it on tonight. Not that she probably wouldn't want to; I can still smell her arousal from last night. <br />
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I can hear as Alice barges into the bedroom and starts rummaging through my closet on the other side of the wall. This puts a sudden kibosh on my dirty thoughts of Bella, and I turn off the water to the shower.<br />
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The bedroom door shuts quietly with a soft click, and I exit the bathroom to find the clothes Alice has picked out for me to wear—a white button-up shirt and dark jeans. Nice choice. I grab some black boxer briefs out of the dresser drawer and finish getting ready.<br />
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The keys to the Volvo are twirling around Alice's finger as she waits in the hall outside my bedroom door, and I snatch them as I pass by.<br />
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“Have a great night, brother.” She giggles. “And don't order the fish special.” Her face scrunches up as if something smells horrific, and I laugh.<br />
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“No problem.” I turn back to look at her. “Anything else?” <br />
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She stares off into space for a moment and then snaps back to the present and smiles brightly. “Nope!” <br />
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With that, she skips off down the stairs, and I head out to the garage. Esme is standing in the kitchen, her hands covering her mouth like she's trying to hold in a sob or some shit. Jesus, I'm just taking a girl out to dinner, not going to war! She needs to get a grip. Carlisle is behind her, his arms wrapped around her waist tightly—probably to keep her from tackling me with a hug.<br />
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“Have a nice time, son.”<br />
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“Thanks, Carlisle. I'll see you two later.”<br />
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Esme just squeaks.<br />
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I make a stop at Leppell's Flowers and JT's Sweet Stuffs for some chocolate before I head over to Bella's. I don't know if she likes that kind of shit, but it's my first date—that I can remember—and I want to do it right.<br />
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<br />
By the time I make it to Bella's place, she has just arrived home. I pull up next to her/my truck in the driveway and sit quietly, listening to her putz around her apartment. She talks to the bird, carrying on a conversation with it as if it were human. The bird squawks and chirps here and there, but Bella keeps talking. She seems nervous about our date. I'm glad I'm not the only one.<br />
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After listening for about fifteen minutes, I decide to get out and knock on her door. I know it's too early for dinner, but maybe we could just hang out and walk around the shops in Port Angeles before our reservation.<br />
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“Shit! He's early!” “How do I look, Carrumba?” <br />
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I chuckle to myself as I hear her ask the bird what it thinks of her outfit and then laugh loudly when it wolf-whistles at her.<br />
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When Bella answers the door, I nearly drop the candy and flowers. She's absolutely breathtaking in a light yellow dress that ties behind her neck—giving me a fucktastic view of her cleavage. Nice.<br />
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“You look amazing, Bella.” I adjust myself as she takes the gifts from me.<br />
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“Thank you... and thank you.” She blushes, looks down at her dress, and then nods to the flowers and candy.<br />
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“No problem. So, uhh, you ready to go? I know I'm early.”<br />
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She grabs her purse and keys, locks up the apartment, and we set off to Port Angeles. I have to keep my speed at a reasonable level, so it takes us a good hour to get to the center of town. We browse a few of the boutiques, and I convince Bella to let me buy her a silver butterfly charm and bracelet. She tries to tell me it's too expensive, but I tell her that we are having our first date all over again—including her in a yellow dress—so it seems fitting that butterflies be included somehow.<br />
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That seems to convince her, and I proudly slip the sales person my black AmEx card and help clasp the bracelet around Bella's wrist while she holds her arm out to me. My eyes instinctively seek out the artery pulsing away in her wrist, and I swallow the venom down.<br />
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<br />
It's now that I suddenly realize how wrong this whole thing with Bella really is. She's human, and I'm vampire. My natural instinct is to attack and feed. No...we shouldn't be doing this, being together. I shouldn't date my prey. Fuck. I should have hunted earlier today.<br />
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It's in this moment that I'm lost in my own thoughts as Bella spins around and wraps her arms around me.<br />
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“Thank you, Edward,” she whispers against my chest.<br />
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I stand motionless, still trying to get a grip on my urge to sink my teeth into her, and just as I gather my resolve and move to enclose her in my arms, she pulls away.<br />
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“Ready to eat?” Bella smiles at me and grabs my hand, pulling me toward the restaurant. She briefly considers my cold, hard skin, but I'm too caught up in the new images flooding my head. <br />
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<br />
This one is of Bella sitting on the sidewalk, crying, while I and a younger Peter jump off our bikes and run over toward her. He and I had been attempting wheelies on our bikes, and Bella wanted to try it too and ended up being tossed to the concrete, scraping her knees.<br />
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I grin at her and answer her question, “Yeah, let's go. I'm starved.” I'm such a fucking idiot.<br />
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We make it to the restaurant and the hostess seats us in a round corner booth. The waitress is at our table immediately to take our drink orders and brings us bread with dipping oil. Bella's excited about the bread, and I watch as she rips it and smears the herb and oil concoction. It smells revolting. We place our orders and sit quietly, stealing casual glances at each other, and I smirk each time as Bella starts to blush.<br />
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<br />
We talk about safe topics: how school is going, her desire to travel to Europe once she graduates, and how I liked living in San Francisco. When the food arrives, Bella dives into her pasta, practically shoveling it into her mouth and moaning with each bite. My dick stirs as I watch her lick the sauce from the side of her lip. Fuuuuuck.<br />
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I shake myself of the dirty thoughts and pretend to be happily enjoying my scrumptious meal of mushroom ravioli. This shit smells like soggy moss tossed in garlic. It's absolutely disgusting. Why couldn't I have taken her to a steakhouse? I could have ordered a rare steak and maybe it would have been somewhat palatable. I'll have to remember that shit next time...<br />
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Bella notices my hesitance while eating. She even tries to get me to taste her pasta, thinking I don't care for the ravioli, but I just lie and tell her that I'm a little bit nervous and my stomach's upset. Which isn't far from the truth. <br />
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The waitress comes back around and asks if we want dessert; I look to Bella and she requests the crème brulee. “Two forks, please,” she asks bashfully.<br />
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Once the waitress leaves, I turn to Bella again. “Really, Bella, I don't think I'll be able to eat any of that. I'm fucking stuffed.”<br />
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“C'mon, Edward. Please?” She looks at me with sad puppy-dog eyes. Dammit. “Y'know, the last time we shared a crème brulee was at the restaurant we went to for Valentine's Day.”<br />
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I smile sadly and slide around the booth to sit closer to her. She meets me near the center of the bench, and I take her hand, holding the delicate fingers lightly in my grasp. “I'm sorry, I don't remember.” I stare down at her fingers, smirking at the chipped peach-colored nail polish and the new memory that invades my head. <br />
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<br />
I had taken the liberty of decorating her locker at school for her birthday. Her friend, Angela, helped by distracting her that morning before school – saying she needed a “girl's morning” and drove them to grab a coffee before class. I got to school a half hour earlier than normal and tied a bundle of balloons to Bella's locker handle and taped a little sign and paper flowers to the door. She was mad the whole day. She's fucking sexy when she's pissed and feisty. <br />
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My dick twitches again. Shit.<br />
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The dessert is horrendous. It smells like charred sugar and eggs. Bella smiles brightly and takes a heaping spoonful of this custard crap and aims it toward my face. “Open up, babe.”<br />
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Somehow—and I don't fucking have a goddamn clue as to how—I make it through two bites of the dessert and start feeding Bella the remainder. She keeps thinking about how erotic it is for me to feed her, but I just really want to shovel the revolting treat into her mouth in one gigantic fucking bite and be done with it.<br />
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Finally, we leave the restaurant, and I wrap my arm around her waist as we stroll along the sidewalk back to the Volvo. Bella rests her head on my shoulder, and I want nothing more than to scoop her up in my arms and take her somewhere quiet and private and get inside those pretty purple panties she has on underneath that cotton dress. Yeah, I can see though that flimsy material she's wearing. The smell of her arousal is driving me crazy, but I need to talk to Carlisle about some shit before we move things to another level. Shit! I really should have fed earlier today...<br />
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<br />
We pull up at her apartment, and before she has her seatbelt unbuckled, I open her car door, holding out my hand to help her out. The perfect gentleman. We walk to her front door quietly—verbally—but the thoughts running through Bella's head are loud and clear.<br />
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“I hope he kisses me. Shit! My breath probably smells like garlic!”<br />
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“It's still early; maybe he'll want to come inside for a bit.” <br />
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“I wonder if he'll stay again tonight.”<br />
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As much as I'd love to stay with her, I think it's best that I don't put myself into any potentially dangerous situations with her. Well, dangerous for her. <br />
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She unlocks her door and steps inside, turning to look at me hesitating on the porch. My body suddenly freezes and nostrils flare. That vampire has come back while we were gone. I lean in the doorway and inhale deeply but don't catch the scent inside her apartment. <br />
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“What the hell? Does my apartment stink?” Bella has a slightly panicked look in her eye but tries to cover up her anxiety with a smile.<br />
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We both speak at the same time.<br />
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“Do you want to--”<br />
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“I should probably--”<br />
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We laugh, and I wave my hand for her to speak first.<br />
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“Do you want to come in? We can open a bottle of wine and talk...” She bites her bottom lip and looks up at me, hopeful.<br />
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“I would love nothing more than to spend some time with you tonight, Bella, but I need to get back to my family.”<br />
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“Family...” She scoffs mentally.<br />
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I continue. “Yeah, uh, Carlisle likes to have family game night. You know, Yahtzee, Scrabble, Pictionary.” I know it's total bullshit, but it was the first thing I could think of. Alice has probably already jumped online and ordered the games within the last twelve seconds.<br />
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“Well, okay.” Bella nods slowly, looking a bit disappointed. “Will I be able to see you again tomorrow? I only have a lab at eleven in the morning, but after that, my schedule is free.” She smiles shyly, and I just want to kiss her senseless. She has no idea how fucking whipped I am.<br />
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“Yeah, that'd be great. I'll meet you back here around noon?”<br />
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Her smile gets wider and she steps closer to me. Her thoughts scream her intent to kiss me, but I swiftly grab her hand and lift it to my lips, placing a gentle kiss to her palm.<br />
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“I'll be here, my butterfly.” I smirk as she blushes and brings her other hand up to touch the dainty bracelet on her wrist.<br />
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“Oh, and thank you for a wonderful evening, Edward... and for my bracelet.”<br />
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“You are most definitely welcome, Bella. Goodnight.” I grin and take a few slow steps backwards toward my car, watching as she closes and locks the door. The second it's latched, I zip around the perimeter of the house, searching for this lurking vampire. When I can't find anyone in the immediate vicinity, I hop back into the car, quickly sending a text to Alice.<br />
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I need backup. Now! ~ESweetVenom69http://www.blogger.com/profile/16891131791448534680noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2259876397494509092.post-16875665719595607842011-01-19T21:17:00.000-05:002011-01-19T21:17:55.802-05:00Chapter 16Playlist selection: Iris by GooGoo Dolls<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">Edward POV</div><br />
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There are sudden flashes of color and sound in my head as my hand grips the warm flesh of Bella's wrist. The images are cloudy and vague, but it's definitely something I've never noticed before. My mind is hit with a barrage of new emotions: shock, hope, and a touch of fear as to what these visions could mean. Could these be memories...my memories?<br />
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“Oh my God!” Bella shrieks, but it's the look of horror on her face that jars me from my musings. She twists her arm away from my grasp and staggers a few steps away, panic and worry rushing through her thoughts. I hear her heart thrumming away in her chest, a result of the adrenaline surge in her veins, as she compares my differences to normal humans. She knocks into the coffee table with her calves as she tries to move away from me. Her wide, brown eyes glisten in the dim light from the living room lamp. “Ed-Edward, w-what happened to you?” she whispers shakily. <em><strong>“What the fuck is going on? Why is he so cold?”</strong></em><br />
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I try to soothe her, knowing how the shock of my icy skin has freaked her out. “Shhh, Bella. Calm down. I know it's different, but it's okay. I'm okay.” I don't know if I say that last part for her sake or mine. “I told you there was an ac-”<br />
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“Accident. Yeah, I got that part,” she snaps, quickly shaking off her fear and shifts back to annoyance again. She moves around the table and settles in the farthest spot on the couch, drawing her legs close to her chest, and looks away from me. “Why won’t he tell me?”<br />
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She asks more questions in her head, but doesn't voice them yet. I stare blankly at her beautiful face and replay the instant visions that flooded my head when we touched--blurred shapes of bright colors: a deep royal blue, a creamy white, a warm brown, a fern green. Flashing lights and whirs of sound float all around me. There's softness and happiness and laughing.<br />
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I hone in on the laughing, recognizing it almost instantly as Bella's, and the rest of the vision clears into a perfect picture. Bella's standing in front of me, wearing a low-cut dress that I remember telling her how fucking sexy it made her look. I teased her about the white grandma-sweater she wore as a cover up and laughed when she told me that Charlie wasn't letting her out of the house without it. The warm brown was her hair, pinned up with the occasional ringlet falling around her face, and the green was the leaves of the corsage tied around her wrist. I held her close to me – in my arms – as we swirled and danced at our Senior Prom...<br />
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I was there.<br />
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With her.<br />
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Together.<br />
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I felt like crying, discovering this memory from my past, knowing that I was happy at some point before this life. Happy with her. “I remember...” I say, letting the words trail off in the air.<br />
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Bella lifts her head and stares at me with wide eyes. “What do you remember?” she asks, repositioning herself up on her knees on the cushion between us.<br />
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“Prom.” She gasps, and a small smile crosses her face. “I remember dancing with you at prom. You had on a blue dress, and I was making fun of the sweater you were wearing.”<br />
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She nods, and her smile grows wider. “You asked me if I stole it from a nursing home.”<br />
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I smile, recalling that was why she was laughing in my memory. “Yes.”<br />
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“What else do you remember?”<br />
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I root around in my head for a moment, searching for another new memory, but find nothing. Well, that's disappointing. “That's it, I'm afraid.”<br />
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We are both quiet for a few moments. She stares at me intently from her side of the couch, gnawing on her lip and wringing her hands together. “How can that be the only memory he has? There has to be more...”<br />
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“I promise you, that's all I remember.”<br />
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“Edward,” she says exasperatedly, “how can you claim to have no memories and then poof, all of a sudden, you remember our senior prom?”<br />
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“I. Don't. Know!” I snarl and lurch from the couch to pace across the room. The bird squawks at my outburst, but I just ignore him.<br />
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“I don't believe you, Edward.” She lets the words hang in the air for a few moments as she steels herself for more arguing. Her thoughts flit from one subject to another, each of which are milestones in her life that I was apparently involved in. Sometimes, I wish I could just see the images in her head instead of only hearing her thoughts. That would make this a lot easier. “If you don't remember anything, how do you explain bringing me a goddamn book about Arizona National Parks, huh?” She stands and stalks across the room to where I'm pacing, her hands perched firmly on her hips.<br />
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How do I explain that? Surely, I can't tell her that I plucked it out of her brain and saw her cacti collection while I was playing creepy stalker guy, looking through her windows. I don’t even know what I was thinking when I purchased that. What a fucking idiot!<br />
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She continues her rant. “If you don't remember anything about your life before the big, mysterious accident, what made you think that book would be a nice gift for me? And on another note, how do you know where the fuck I live? I didn't leave my address on the card with the cookies...only my phone number. Have you been stalking me?”<br />
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Fuck me. This is not how I want this interaction to go between us, but I can't just come out and tell her I'm a vampire and I've been watching her for the last six months. I doubt that would go over very well. The castrating look in her eyes tells me I’m probably right with that assumption.<br />
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“Bella,” I say softly. “I don't want to argue with you. This is a huge breakthrough in my amnesia, or whatever you want to call it, and I just want to find out more about my hum-, uh, my life, and only you can give me that.” <br />
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She takes in a sudden breath and tears begin to form in her softening eyes. “I want to believe you, Edward, but I’m confused and scared. What if you never remember us? I don’t think I can handle that kind of heartbreak all over again. I’ve only just found you...” <br />
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I wish she’d voice these thoughts out loud; my reply would make so much more sense. “I know.” <br />
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“Shit! Did I say those things out loud?”<br />
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My cell phone is buzzing incessantly in my pocket, and I look away from Bella toward the clock on the wall. I turn back to her and offer a small smile. “It’s late, Bella. I don’t want to keep you up. I should go.”<br />
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“NO! Please, don’t go.” “Don’t you ever leave me again.”<br />
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I won’t deny it. The quickened pace of her heart and the sudden anxiety in her voice makes me a bit giddy. I don’t want to leave her either. Her eyes are imploring, and her thoughts are begging for me to stay and never disappear. I know I can’t make that promise, but the second she gently touches my arm, the flood of blurry images invades my brain again, and my feet are fucking glued to the wood floor. <br />
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“Bella?” I rasp, and clutch her hand as another memory comes into view. “You...”<br />
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“Me, what?”<br />
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“I remember...”<br />
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She gasps and pulls me back to the couch, and I sit down without hesitation, staring blankly into space as I put the pieces of the vision together.<br />
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“What do you remember, Edward?” “Tell me!”<br />
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“You...and me, in a car...no, a truck. We’re driving down a highway. I can feel the warm wind on my skin and your hair’s blowing all over the place...”<br />
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“That’s a little vague.” “Okay. What else?” She laughs lightly and sits next to me on the arm of the couch, gently leaning her body against my shoulder. I would have expected that this would freak me out--having a human touch me like this--but it just seems so natural, comfortable, natural, with Bella, and I fucking like it. <br />
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Her thoughts are focused on identifying this memory from her own bank and not on what her body is doing. I look at her smiling face, knowing she’s just as excited to hear this as I am for her to confirm it.<br />
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“Um, you seemed a bit nervous and you kept fiddling with the seatbelt strap. I remember teasing you about it. You’re wearing a light yellow dress and singing a song. It was from some movie you liked.”<br />
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“Oh, my God, yes!” Her smile gets bigger, and she laughs gently. “Iris. The name of the song was Iris.”<br />
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I smile back at her as I recall the title. “Yeah, you loved that song. You were singing it at the top of your lungs.”<br />
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She laughs, her cheeks darkening from her blush. “Yeah, I still do. It’s one of my all time favorites.” She’s quiet as she watches me, hoping I’ll recall more memories, but nothing else comes to mind. “What else?”<br />
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“Nothing.” I frown. God, this is so fucking frustrating.<br />
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She sighs, disappointed, but then she offers to help fill in the holes of my memories. “It was our first date. You were taking me to the butterfly exhibit as a surprise. I was nervous because it was the first time we were together as a couple instead of as friends. I was worried I’d screw everything up.”<br />
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I smile at her insecurity. She’s so damn cute. I had figured out we’d been a couple, even before the Prom memory, but this was the first confirmation. I had loved this girl. And from the tiny tweak in my chest at that thought, it seems as if that feeling is still there, buried in the frozen trenches of my body. “You couldn’t have screwed anything up if you tried, Bella. You’re perfect.” I whisper, the words softly tumbling from my mouth without me even thinking about them. Where the hell did that come from?<br />
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She flinches slightly, shocked by the tenderness of my words, and then notices our proximity to each other. Straightening her shoulders, she glances toward the bird cage, cursing herself in her thoughts. “I’m such a fucking idiot. What if he never really remembers me and what we had together?” Releasing a shaky breath, she turns back to me, a tight smile on her lips.<br />
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Not wanting to dwell on this awkward moment, I stand and walk toward the bookshelf and recall something she mentioned earlier. “You said this was mine?” I ask, pointing at the enclosed scorpion.<br />
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She moves to stand beside me and picks up the grotesque creature, smiling softly at it like it was a cherished pet. “Yes. It was your prized possession.” She laughs and then sighs. “I couldn’t get rid of it after you die-, uh, left.” “It was a part of you that I couldn’t leave behind. I missed you so much, Edward.”<br />
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“I know you did,” I mutter, and she looks up at me, squinting. <br />
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“How does he...?”<br />
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Smiling down at her, I nod once and turn to sit down on the couch again. “So, you finally believe that I’m not lying to you? That I really don’t remember things before the, uh, accident?”<br />
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“Accident. I hate when he calls it that. Why won’t he tell me what happened?”<br />
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“Some other time, Bella. I don’t really want to talk about it. It was, uh, traumatic.”<br />
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“It’s like he keeps answering the questions I’m not actually asking. Can he read my thoughts? God, I hope not...”<br />
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I redirect our conversation back to the insect. “So, why would that thing be special to me?” It is a rather impressive specimen... How the hell do I know that?<br />
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She looks fondly at the display box from across the room and then back to me. “You loved bugs, Edward. You wanted to be an entomologist ever since you were a little kid.”<br />
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“Get the fuck out,” I scoff. “You’re shitting me, right?” Right?<br />
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“No,” she says, looking at me as if I’ve suddenly grown a third eye. “You were the biggest bug geek I knew.”<br />
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<br />
She has got to be joking... Bugs? Fucking bugs? I fucking hate those things. They fly around, buzzing their wings in my ears, annoying the shit out of me. How the hell could I have liked them? They’re disgusting. Okay, well, maybe just the flying ones are a nuisance, and that scorpion is pretty interesting looking, but I still find it hard to believe I had wanted to study them. However, the look on her face and the thoughts in her head only seal her conviction that I, Edward Cullen, was a former insect lover. Who’da thunk it? <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
I laugh disbelievingly and shake my head. “Well, that’s something you’ll never hear about me again. I don’t do bugs now, Bella. I’m not the same guy you knew back then.” <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
She nods and looks down at her hands in her lap, disappointment marching through her thoughts. “Understatement of the century...” “Yeah, I noticed a difference in you from the moment I saw you in the library.”<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
“Yeah?” I already know the answer, remembering her thoughts from that day six months ago like it just happened this morning.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
“It was your tattoo that sealed the deal, you know?” I glance down at my wrist as her fingers reach out to sweep across the script. “You got that for me...”<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
It’s in this moment when her fingers connect with my skin that I realize I get these surges of images or memories in my head when she touches me. Not when there’s a barrier of clothing like when our shoulders were touching earlier, but when there’s direct skin-on-skin contact. This time there’s a sensation of pain, directly where she touched me on my wrist, and images of a man in a police uniform and a white gazebo.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
She continues, “...and I got this one for you.” Bella turns her back toward me and points to the partially hidden tattoo on her shoulder. I had seen it before, but I didn’t really pay much attention to it at the time. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Ever so gently, I pull the fabric away to expose the art on her soft skin. I may or may not have run my finger against her on purpose, instigating another memory to hit me. This one is of Bella and I at a pool party with other people our age. I shake the vision off and refocus back on her explaining the tattoo. “Ever since our first date, Monarch butterflies held a special meaning to us. That’s why you had it inked into your skin. When I thought you had died, I wanted something that represented how much you meant to me.”<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
I take in the delicate design of the butterfly on her shoulder, noticing how it’s hovering above the intricate initials. “E-A-M?” I ask in a small voice, suddenly realizing those initials as my own.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
“Edward Anthony Masen.” She looks over her shoulder at me quizzically, silently asking if I don’t even remember my own name.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
“I didn’t remember my full name after the accident. I’m just Edward Cullen now.” <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Bella bristles at my new last name and gets up to stalk into the kitchen. “You’ll always be Edward Masen to me. I don’t care what those people tell you your name is.” “Fucking kidnapping weirdos...”<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
“Don’t hate them, Bella. They’re really good people and helped me so much over the past couple of years. I’d like for you to meet them sometime.” I offer an encouraging smile, hoping she’ll lighten up and agree, but the death glare she gives me says I’ve got some convincing to do. “They are eager to meet you, too, you know. I know you already met Esme when you came to bring me the cookies...”<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
“Yeah, she seemed nice, but I-”<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
“She is,” I interrupt. ”She’s kind of like the matriarch of our little family or some shit.”<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
“Family,” she scoffs. Rooting around in the fridge, she grabs several items, sets them onto the counter, and huffs in annoyance. “I don’t get it, Edward. If they found you after your accident, and you didn’t remember anything about your life before it, why didn’t they contact the police? Your missing person’s report was all over the news and in the papers. Someone would have recognized you from all the photos.” “I need to tell my dad...”<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Of course, I use this moment to reach my hand out and touch her arm, offering her some comfort and gain a new memory for myself. What can I say? I’m a vampire, and I’m selfish by nature. This new memory is of me and Bella around the age of seven or eight, dressed up for Halloween. She was the cutest lady bug I’d ever seen. I was a bug catcher with a net.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
By now she’s unloaded half of the fucking refrigerator’s contents onto the counter and is staring blankly at all the food. “Look, Bella, I know the circumstances seem, uhh, weird, but I promise that the Cullens did nothing wrong when they found me. Please, just...believe me. Trust me. Just, shit...just let me tell you everything in my own time. Okay? Please don’t tell anyone back home about finding me yet. Can you just help me remember who I am, err, was? I’m not ready to answer everyone’s questions about where I’ve been and what happened to me.”<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Her thoughts are wavering, but I reach out again to gently touch her cheek. She flinches slightly, but her mind only registers the cold from my skin, and then she turns her face toward me. More images invade my mind, but as I’m focusing on those, my cell phone buzzes again. At the same moment, she lunges toward me, throws her arms around my neck, and buries her face against my chest.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
“Oh, my God, Edward! I’ve missed you so so much,” she cries, drenching my shirt with her warm tears. “Please, promise me you won’t disappear again?” Her sobs shake her body as she clutches the shoulders of my shirt and pulls me against her. “Jesus, it’s like hugging an iceberg, but I don’t care!” <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
I smile nervously as I tentatively rest my chin on top of her head. Holding her gently--I hope--in my arms, my hand grazes her skin near her waist, and I revel in the tidal wave of new memories that hit me all at once. We’re riding in that truck again, headed to school. Bella has her backpack in her lap and is rifling through it for her Trig homework. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
The next one is of me lounging on a couch with her bird--my bird, apparently--standing on my stomach and stealing potato chips from the bowl resting on my lap. There’s a baseball game on the TV in the background. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Then there’s an older woman with Bella’s eyes, patching up my scraped knee. Bella and I had been riding our bikes in the street, and I tried to impress her and fell, injuring myself. The woman pats the bloody wound with a gauze, and suddenly, venom pools in my mouth. I swallow that shit down as my cellphone goes off again.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Bella finally collects herself and pulls away from me enough to look up into my eyes. “I miss your beautiful green eyes.”<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
I’m not going to lie, that shit makes me feel fucking smug as hell. But the wistfulness of her voice grounds me. “Green, huh? Yeah, I guess they are a bit different now, aren’t they?” I smile sadly at her and stare down into her warm brown eyes.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
“Yeah, they’re different, but not necessarily in a bad way.” Reiterating her words from earlier, that’s the ‘understatement of the century’; she doesn’t know how bad they really are. “But I had always thought our kids would have your green eyes,” she says softly.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Jesus, there isn’t much that could bring a vampire to his knees, but the weight of that comment definitely hits below the belt. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
“I’m sorry.” It’s all I can offer her now.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
We stare at each other for a few seconds longer before she remembers something she wants to show me. Gathering all the food from the counter and haphazardly tossing it back into the fridge, she leads me back into the living room and sits me down on the couch.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
“I have something that might help you remember.” She crosses the tiny living room and digs in a cabinet at the base of the bookshelf. “Where is it? I know it’s here... Aha!” She waves a DVD in her hand. “I’ve never watched this. I don’t even know how long it is.”<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
“What is it exactly?”<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
“Well, my parents bought me, uh, us a video camera for graduation. I only used it a couple of times before we discovered you were missing.” She looks down at the disk in her hand and turns to put it in the player next to the TV. “Here goes nothing...”<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Returning to her place next to me on the couch, she reaches for the remote with a shaky hand and presses PLAY. I gulp the rush of venom in my mouth--more out of nervousness than thirst, I think-- and slowly wrap my arm around her shoulders. Hesitantly, I pull her against my side and rub my finger against the soft flesh of her arm. I don’t know what I’m fucking doing!<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
The first sound we can hear is of Bella’s voice, laughing, as she tries to figure out the camera. After a moment, the lens cap is removed and the same woman from my earlier memory is on the screen; Bella’s mom. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
“Your mother’s name is Renee,” I say confidently.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
“Yes!” she practically squeals. “And that’s Charlie, my dad.” A dark-haired man in a police uniform sits at a kitchen counter, sipping coffee. I don’t remember him.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
We’re quiet for the next couple minutes as we watch the video. I smile as a younger Bella gets ready for school, leaves her home, and walks two houses down. She stops to talk to another man in uniform as he’s pulling out of the driveway in his squad car. I do remember him.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
“That’s my dad,” I whisper. “Our dads were on the same police force?”<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Bella looks up at me with tear-filled eyes, nodding. “Yep, for about twenty years. Ed was awesome. He was so proud of you.” The tears are now streaming down her cheeks as she turns her gaze back to the video. “Your parents were awesome, Edward. I wish you’d remember them.”<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
I nearly puke when my human-self appears on the screen. I look the exact same as I do now, except I was pretty fucking tan, and my eyes really were a bold green. Bella moans lightly next to me as I throw flirty innuendos at her on screen. There’s a surge of warmth from her, and I glance down to notice a rosy blush has spread across her skin.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
“Oh, my God! I hope he didn’t hear me moan.” <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
I pretend not to notice anything and turn back to the video, deciding to keep that little tidbit for myself to evaluate later on. I can’t help the smirk on my face, though. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Further into the video, there’s a scene of us in the truck that I had remembered, and I suddenly recognize it as the same piece of shit that’s in front of Bella’s apartment. “That’s...my truck in your driveway?”<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Bella smiles sheepishly and nods as she wipes her tears against my shirt. I pull her close to me and she fists my shirt and nuzzles her face into the crook of my shoulder. I kiss the top of her head just as my damn cellphone buzzes in my pocket again.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Bella notices the vibration and pulls away, but I tell her to ignore it and pull her against me once again. God, she’s so warm. It’s like snuggling up to an electric blanket. I might need to get one for my house...<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
There are a few more clips of our friends and classmates, but I don’t remember them and decide to ask about them later. The video lasts a total of fifteen minutes and then the screen turns blue. We sit in silence for a moment until the bird makes a little peep and startles us from our thoughts.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
“Oh, shit. I need to cover her cage.” Bella jumps up and grabs a sheet from a shelf under the cage and tosses it over the gigantic contraption. “Night night, Carrumba.”<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
“Nigh-nigh,” the bird says.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
“Holy shit! That thing sounds just like me!”<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Bella turns and smiles at me, giving me a well, duh kind of look. “You did teach her that, Edward.”<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
“I did?”<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
“Yeah. She mimicked everything you said. You two were best buddies.” She laughs. I smile, remembering my triggered memory from earlier with the potato chips.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Bella turns off the TV and puts the DVD away and then reaches into the cabinet again, this time she pulls out a large photo album. Oh, fucking hell.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Bracing it against her chest like it’s a fucking shield of armor she comes back to the couch and plops down beside me, settling the book in her lap. “Okay, um, I haven’t looked at this book since the first anniversary of your death. And I know that’s kind of morbid and weird thinking that you were dead, because you’re here now, but just keep in mind that that is what we all thought at the time, okay?” <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
“Okay,” I whisper, getting really fucking nervous as to what I’m going to find in this album. I angle my body toward hers and put my arm around her shoulder again. She smiles and exhales loudly, then starts to open the front cover, but slams it shut again as worry laces her thoughts.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
“I wonder what he’s going to think about this. Maybe this is too soon to show it. Maybe it’s too soon for me to see it. It’s gotta be strange for him to hear that we felt he was dead all this time...”<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
“I don’t mind you saying that I had died, Bella.” I laugh humorlessly. “In a way, I did.” You have no idea how true it is...<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Tentatively, she opens the front cover again. “Okay, um, I think I’m going to need some tissues for this.” She jumps up and darts into the bathroom and returns with an entire roll of toilet paper. “All right, let’s do this.” She sighs as she settles against me and puts the book between our laps. “It’s in chronological order, so this may take while.” <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
She looks up at me, unsure, but I nod and pull open the front cover to reveal two baby shower invitations--one blue, one pink. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
The weight of our history hits me like a freight train, and suddenly I feel like I want to sob--break down like a little bitch and cry my fucking eyes out. Page after page of photos of birthday parties, family vacations, riding bikes in the street, trick-or-treating on Halloween where my parents seemed to always be wearing vampire costumes, ironically. Interesting.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
After looking through nearly the entire book, I notice that Bella has started to doze off against my shoulder. The thought that she’s comfortable enough with me to fall asleep in my arms, allowing me to be this close to her at her most vulnerable state, is indescribable and really stupid. This girl has no sense of self-preservation at all.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
In a sick and twisted way, sitting like this with Bella is like a human snuggling a T-bone steak, but I don’t see it that way. I don’t think I really have thought of her that way. From the moment I first registered her thoughts in the library, I was intrigued--in awe of her--but I don’t think of her as a meal. Of course, if she goes and pricks her finger, allowing her luscious blood to pool against her soft skin, all fucking bets are off. I’ll just have to make sure I’m in control of any sharp objects. Immediately, I glance around the apartment and take a quick inventory of all potential weapons that could cause her to bleed.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
My damn cell phone hasn’t stopped buzzing in my pocket, and I know it’s Alice making sure I’m alright. I still don’t answer the fucking thing.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
I squeeze her against my chest, burying my face in her hair. Humming my appreciation of her warm, soft body against mine, I turn my face back to the photo album in our laps. I pull it over to rest on my legs and tug the afghan from the back of the couch across Bella’s body. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Flipping through more pages, I can easily see the progression of our relationship from platonic friends to romantic love. There are a few snapshots of her with googly eyes staring at me, and many more of me looking at her like she’s the most beautiful creature on earth. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Jesus, I was whipped. Maybe I still am. Emmett is going to have a blast torturing me with this. I wonder how long I can keep it from him?<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
The last few pages seem to be from our senior year, and I gloss over the unfamiliar faces until I come across a large envelope near the back of the album. Careful not to wake her, I open the metal clasp and pull out several pieces of paper: newspapers clippings, a folded copy of a MISSING flyer, police reports, and a death certificate.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
My death certificate. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
The phone goes off again, this time I answer it, talking in a vampire whisper so I don’t wake Bella.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
“We’re fine, Alice.”<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
“I know, but we just wanted to let you know that we’re outside if you need us.”<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
“You’re here?” My voice escapes at a normal human level, and Bella shifts beside me. I shush her softly and place a gentle kiss against her hair, settling her once again.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Alice squeals, “Oh my God, he just kissed her!” The shocked, muted voices of Jasper, Esme, and Carlisle can be heard discussing this in the background.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
“Good night, Alice. Tell them they can all go home. I don’t need them here right now.” Honestly, I don’t want any of them to eavesdrop on my moments with Bella. As each second passes, I feel more grounded and whole when I’m with her. Like...I was meant to be here.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
“But wait, Edward! Don’t you think we should stick around in case something happens?”<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
I glance down at the fragile, beautiful human in my arms and shake my head. “No, I don’t. Good night. I’ll meet you all back at the house later.”<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
“But, but-”<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
“And don’t wait up.” Smirking to myself, I power down the phone and rest my cheek against Bella’s head. I’ve waited four fucking years to say that to them.. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Glancing down at the contents from the envelope, I read the details of the flyer and cringe at the dumb picture of me. It was one that I had seen in the album, but I guess it was the most recent photo at the time. I read over the death certificate, noting my cause of death as ‘homicide by animal’. Again, how fucking ironic.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
As I unfold the multiple pages to the police report and newspaper clippings, the reality of what had happened weighs heavily on my mind. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Bella was there. She worried for days when she didn’t hear from me, and I never came home. She went to the cabin to look for me, only to find remnants of my parents’ bodies and suspecting mine had suffered the same violent end. It was a violent death, my dear Bella, but not like you imagined. She mourned for me, cried her eyes out, for losing her boyfriend--me--so tragically.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
I can’t imagine ever going through something like that. I mentally tell her how sorry I am that she suffered such heartbreak because of me and kiss her hair once again. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Stuffing the articles back into the envelope, I replace it in the album and turn over the last pages in the book. What the fuck is this?<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
On the left side, torn pieces of notebook paper are lined up side-by-side in the photo pockets, my chicken scratch handwriting written across it. My eyes follow to the bottom of the pages, and I read the final pieced-together paragraph:<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">“So, Isabella Marie Swan, I take you to be my wife from this time onward, to join with you </div><div style="text-align: center;">and to share all that is to come, to be your faithful husband, to give and to receive, </div><div style="text-align: center;">to speak and to listen, to inspire and to be inspired. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">From this day forward, you shall not walk alone. My heart will be your shelter and my arms</div><div style="text-align: center;"> will be your home. As I have given you my hand to hold, I give you my life to keep. </div><div style="text-align: center;">This is my commitment to you - made in love, kept in faith, and cherished for eternity."</div><br />
<br />
What the..? Wedding vows?!<br />
<br />
<br />
To the right, a crinkled page is folded and stuffed into another pocket. Bella’s elegant script written across the page. <br />
<br />
Bella’s vows.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
I wasn’t just her boyfriend. I was her fiance. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
At the very bottom of the album page, a small poem about a butterfly’s journey is printed on a piece of heavy card stock. My name, dates of birth and death, and the date of a memorial service are written below the poem. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Again, I press her tightly against me, this time whispering my regrets out loud, “I’m so sorry I left you, Bella. I’m so fucking sorry I put you through all of that.”<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
I feel so damn guilty.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
She shifts again, and I glance down at her peaceful face and know that I have to go. I need time to absorb this. I wasn’t some acquaintance she knew from Arizona or a weaselly little boyfriend. We were best friends and lovers, and we had promised to spend the rest of our lives with each other.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Fuck.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
I need to think. I need to go.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Gently cradling her in my arms, I carry her toward her bed and lay her down. I pull the afghan around her and lean in to kiss her forehead.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
“I’m so sorry,” I say again and turn toward the front door.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
And then I run.SweetVenom69http://www.blogger.com/profile/16891131791448534680noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2259876397494509092.post-83167446078565556862010-09-02T19:53:00.000-04:002010-09-02T19:53:25.479-04:00Chapter 15Playlist selection: Beautiful Lie by 30 Seconds to Mars <br />
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<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">Bella POV </div> <br />
<br />
It’s been two and a half weeks since that fateful day in the library. Tomorrow is Christmas Day, and for the first time in my life, I’m alone for the holidays. My parents are thousands of miles away, enjoying a sun-filled holiday on a cruise to the Bahamas. They wanted me to come home during the break from school, but after the events at the library, I was scared to go home. I needed some time to figure out what to say to them. Should I tell them about seeing Edward? Would they think I’d lost my mind and needed to see a therapist again? I don’t know. <br />
<br />
Sometimes I try to tell myself that it wasn’t really him. He looked the same, but different--his eyes and pale skin... but absolutely no sign of recognition for who I was. Shouldn’t he have been a tad surprised to see me in Forks? Why was he here to begin with? Is he going to school at the Center too? I’d never seen him around campus. He’s always prefered to live in the city, but liked to escape to the wilderness; he would have been miserable in this small, remote town. Did he follow me across the country? If he was looking for me, wouldn’t he have talked to me, tackled me with a hug? Hell, even a handshake would have been more than he gave me. <br />
<br />
But no...he acted like i was just an ordinary girl at the fucking library. <br />
<br />
And it hurts. Really hurts. <br />
<br />
This is why I decide to stay in town for the holiday. Partly because I’m too heartbroken and mopey to go anywhere and spread my non-Christmas cheer. I’ve cried nearly every day since our run-in, crushed by the thought that he didn’t even love me enough to say something besides “excuse me”. <br />
<br />
I mean, fuck... <br />
<br />
The other part of me is silently hoping I might run into him again. I’ve made daily trips to the library and sat at his table, hoping to catch a glimpse of his crazy hair or that beautiful smirk. <br />
<br />
But that hasn’t happened. <br />
<br />
Jake and Leah invited me to Leah’s mother’s house for Christmas dinner, but I told them that I have plans to volunteer at a soup kitchen in Port Angeles for the day. That part is true, I did plan to volunteer, but this morning I woke up even more depressed than the past few days, and I decided that I want to sulk about my pathetic life in the privacy of my own home. <br />
<br />
Carrumba is my only saving grace from giving up completely, so she and I share my leftover chili for Christmas dinner. She picks out the kidney beans from my bowl, drops them in a pile on the table, and then wipes her sauce-covered beak on my snowman themed placemat before she dives back in for more. Edward used to pick them out too and give her his little stockpile of beans as a treat. <br />
<br />
I sigh and carry my bowl to the sink, fighting the tears again. <br />
<br />
After a while, Angela comes up to visit for a long weekend. It’s amazing having her here, even if it’s only for a couple of days. I’ve missed our easy friendship and just being around her. We talk once a week on the phone, but it’s just not the same as spending time in person with your close friends. I never thought I was homesick for my life in Phoenix until the moment I picked Ang up from the airport. I just didn’t want her to have to leave me again - alone with my heartbreak. This town is too small for a single woman to get to know anyone her age. There’s not much of a young twenty’s social circle in Forks. <br />
<br />
Things don’t seem to change for me for several months. I go about my usual routine of classes, lab reports, study sessions with Jake, and even a few outings with Leah to her little brother’s soccer games. I’m practically robotic, going through the motions of life, but not really living it. To everyone else, I’m a happy-go-lucky-woman with smiles for everyone she sees, but in reality, I’m a broken-hearted little girl on the inside. <br />
<br />
I haven't had that creepy feeling much over the last several months. The last one I remember was the day Leah, Jake, Rebecca, and I went to the festival. It's been nice not having to deal with that sensation. However, one evening in June, I'm chopping veggies for dinner, and Carrumba's playing with the blocks in her cage, when she shrieks loudly - scaring the shit out of me - and causes me to cut my finger. There's a decent amount of blood all over the cutting board, and instantly I have that unsettling sensation wash over me, causing me to feel slightly panicked. It's the most intense and terrifying feeling I've had in a long time. I actually feel like my life is in danger. It's very strange... <br />
<br />
A week or so later, I’m making the short trip to the Thriftway for Kleenex, a pair of pliers, and a one-pound bag of peanut M&M’s, when a loud roar approaches my truck. I glance out the passenger side window and notice a handsome man with shaggy, blond curls pull his sporty motorcycle next to me at the traffic light. He checks for on-coming vehicles and then turns right and speeds off down Division Street. It takes me a split second to recognize him as the guy who was with Edward at the library that day, and I make a sudden right turn and follow him. <br />
<br />
I catch a glimpse of his bike as I pass the police station, but he pulls further ahead as the road bends and twists through the forest. He turns onto a small dirt road that cuts through the trees, and I hesitate to continue down the dark path, but if Edward is wherever this guy is going, then I must follow him. I need to see Edward again. <br />
<br />
But he isn’t home - something about an unexpected trip or whatever. <br />
<br />
I stay up the entire night, feeling like a fool for seeking out someone who apparently doesn’t want to be found. I cry until I’m out of tears, hiccoughing like a drunk, and my head is throbbing. But that’s when I find it in me to not give up, and instead of approaching him empty handed in an attempt to coerce him into talking to me, I decide to make him his favorite potato chip cookies as a not-so-subtle reminder that I know him. Or at least I knew him, once upon a time. <br />
<br />
Every day that passes since I dropped off the little gift at his house, I get more and more pissed that he hasn’t called me. I mean, even if he was still out of town, wouldn’t his roommates still give him the message? The woman assured me he would get his package and the message that I stopped by. She seemed sincere, and I believed her because she reminded me of Renee - all motherly and doting and smiles. <br />
<br />
He could call me from wherever he is vacationing to either say ‘thanks for the fucking cookies’ or ‘I hate you, don’t ever talk to me again’...something! What the fuck is he waiting for? Or is he not even going to call me at all? Prick. <br />
<br />
I don’t hear from him for two weeks. Two. Fucking. Weeks. <br />
<br />
Jake and Leah leave for a weekend getaway, and I spend the Friday evening at home, cleaning out my shoebox of jewelry and hair accessories, listening to Carrumba chatting to herself in her cage, when there’s a knock at my door. <br />
<br />
The view from the peephole is murky - only a dark figure standing under the dim porch light - and I assume it’s Mrs. Cope from upstairs, but when I wrench open the door and the flash of auburn hair shines in the Iight emanating from my apartment, my heart hammers in my chest. I blurt the first fucking think that comes to mind... <br />
<br />
“Nice of you to grace me with your presence, Edward.” <br />
<br />
He’s staring at his feet like they are the most interesting things he’s ever seen. After a moment of awkward silence, he rakes his eyes up my body, finally settling on my eyes. I glower at him, letting him know that I’m pissed. Fucker needs to say something quick before I explode on a rant of cosmic proportions...or kiss him senseless. <br />
<br />
“Uh, h-hi,” he stutters, wide-eyed and nervous. My lip twitches, fighting a triumphant smile. I smell fear, and I revel in it. That’s right, asshole. You’d better be worried that I’ll rip your balls off and ram them into your ears! You deserve some torture after what you did to me. <br />
<br />
I step aside and wave my hand to gesture for him to come inside; I don’t need the whole neighborhood knowing my business. <br />
<br />
Staring hard at his face as he crosses the threshold into my apartment, I get a good look at his eyes. They are definitely different than they used to be - antique gold and saffron, not the soft viridian green eyes from our youth. Maybe he’s wearing contacts. His ruby-red lips stand out in stark contrast against his pale skin that practically glows in the unnatural light from the living room lamp. <br />
<br />
"You look different.” <br />
<br />
"I do?” <br />
<br />
"Yeah. What happened to you?” <br />
<br />
He ignores my question and moves to stand next to my couch, diverting his eyes now, looking everywhere else but at me. “Nice place.” <br />
<br />
I snort at his half-assed compliment. “You want something to drink? I know I fucking need one,” I mumble the last part to myself, but I stalk off toward the kitchen, not waiting for his reply. <br />
<br />
I pour myself a glass of wine and hold it up to show him, cocking an eyebrow to prod a response from him. Are you going to talk or just stand there - torturing me? <br />
<br />
“Oh, uh, no thanks.” He smiles briefly at me before turning to look at my bookshelf, eying the scorpion in the display box. <br />
<br />
I round the countertop and sit down on the sofa, tucking my feet under my body, trying to keep myself together. Why is this so awkward? It’s just Edward, Bella, you’ve known him your entire life! Talk to him. I nod towards the creepy-crawly knicknack. “That's the Diplo-diplocen-spiz-.” <br />
<br />
“Diplocentrus spitzeri.” <br />
<br />
“Yeah, that's it." <br />
<br />
"I don't know how I know that..." he mutters to himself as if he's surprised by this discovery. <br />
<br />
"It was your pride and joy,” I say, slightly confused by his statement. Edward knew the scientific names for hundreds of bugs; that damn scorpion was one of his favorites. "I'm surprised you didn't get that tattooed on your wrist." <br />
<br />
He whips around to look at me with a shocked expression on his face and stares for a few seconds before recovering and turns back to the bookshelf. <br />
<br />
I stare at his back, wistful, thinking about the time in tenth grade when I snuck up behind him and hopped on his back, demanding a piggyback ride. He laughed and galloped through the hall before bursting through the doors to the courtyard and then into the cafeteria. He refused to release me for the entire lunch period. <br />
<br />
"I noticed your ink," he says, turning to point toward me. "It's, uh, pretty." <br />
<br />
I peek over my shoulder, seeing the top of the tattoo on my right shoulder and blush, thinking about the irony of the situation. Here I had thought he was dead and gone and I had forever memorialized him on my skin, but now he's standing in my fucking apartment. I don't know if this is a fairytale or a nightmare. Feeling slightly foolish about the tattoo, I manage to mumble my thanks for the compliment. <br />
<br />
He offers a small smile and then places a paper bag from the local book store on my coffee table. “I got this for you. I thought that since your brought me the cookies, I should bring you a little gift in return.” <br />
<br />
"Oh, thanks," I say, trying to hide my excitement. Aww, he bought be a present? I can't wait to see what it is! <br />
<br />
"I see you're an avid cactus collector, huh?" He points toward the small pots next to the fireplace. "They remind you of home," he states, confident in his observation. Well, duh... <br />
<br />
“Yeah, I had to order them from a website; they don’t sell anything like that around here. Ang brought me the succulent when she visited last month.” <br />
<br />
“Ang?” He twists to look over his shoulder at me, quirking an eyebrow. <br />
<br />
“Yes, Ang. You remember... Angela? My best friend, lived next door, Peter’s sister...” <br />
<br />
“Peter...?” <br />
<br />
“Jesus, Edward... Yes, Peter. Your ‘partner-in-crime’, was supposed to be your best man at the wedding... Ring any bells?” Why is he acting like he doesn’t remember them? <br />
<br />
“Wedding...?” <br />
<br />
I huff in annoyance. I could strangle him for pretending not to remember the wedding! I gulp the remaining wine from my glass. “Yes, wedding.” I look at him, pissed the hell off. What the fuck is his problem? “Why are you acting like you don’t know your friends? Or me for that matter?” <br />
<br />
That got his attention. He whirls around at lightning speed and gives me a look that should probably intimidate me with dark and angry eyes, but I’m not playing this game with him. I want some fucking answers! <br />
<br />
“I don’t know you.” His voice is low and laced with annoyance, and his fingers tightly grip his hair. He hangs his head and speaks so softly that I barely hear him speak again. “I don’t know... anything.” <br />
<br />
“What are you talking about, Edward? You know Angela and Peter...and me! You knew everything about me until you pulled that fantastic disappearing act just before graduation! Hell, you mean to tell me you don’t even know your precious Carrumba?” I wave my hand toward Carrumba’s cage, noticing she’s huddling in her sleep hammock, but her head is peeking out, watching us. <br />
<br />
Edward glances at the bird cage and back to me, disbelief masking his face. “The bird?” He points at Carrumba, and I hear a faint peep from her direction. “That loud, obnoxious thing used to be mine?” He shakes his head slowly, muttering something under his breath. <br />
<br />
“YES!” I yell, springing myself from the couch and crossing the short distance to stand in front of him at the fireplace. “What the fuck happened to you, Edward? Do you really not remember or are you just playing dumb, because that’s a crock of sh-” <br />
<br />
“Bella, there was an, err, accident. I don’t have any memory of my life before that.” <br />
<br />
I’m a bit taken back by his reference to his parents’ murder as an accident. There was nothing “oopsie” about that scene in the cabin. Before I can wrap my head around his last statement, he responds with answers to the unasked questions that just popped into my head. <br />
<br />
“I didn't follow you here to Forks, Bella. My family and I moved here a year and a half ago. We lived in San Francisco before that.” <br />
<br />
“Your family?” <br />
<br />
“Yeah.” <br />
<br />
“Edward, your family was murdered. I don't know who these people are who you call your family, but your real family is dead.” I look at him pointedly. “Dead, Edward. You didn't kill them, did you?” <br />
<br />
He shakes his head quickly. “No, of course I didn't kill them. At least, I hope I didn't do it. I've been told that I wasn't capable of doing anything at that stage...” <br />
<br />
“You were told? Weren't you there? And what do you mean 'at that stage'?" <br />
<br />
His voice grows more agitated, the volume increasing with each word. “I told you there was an accident!” <br />
<br />
Evasive motherfucker. “Yeah, I got that,” I snap. <br />
<br />
Edward huffs and flops down into the chair beside the bookcase, his face clearly displaying his frustration with me. I don't give a shit what his problem is. At the end of the day, the only thing that matters is that something terrible happened to him and his family, he disappeared, and left me heartbroken without any answers. I deserve some fucking answers. <br />
<br />
Annoyed with his attitude, I snatch the package from the coffee table and reach inside. A picture book of Arizona National Parks? Is he fucking kidding me? <br />
<br />
“What the fuck is this, Edward? Are you trying to rub the worst day of my life in my face?” I jump up from my spot on the couch and tower over him, my entire body shaking and tears welling in my eyes. "How could you do this to me?" <br />
<br />
"I didn't do anything to you, Bella! I don't fucking know you!" Those last words cause the avalanche of tears to fall. How can he say that? <br />
<br />
"The hell you don't! What about the first eighteen years of our lives? How can you not remember anything about that?" <br />
<br />
"There. Was. An. Accident." He slowly rises from the arm chair and stands with his arms crossed against his chest, nostrils flaring, and pupils dialating. <br />
<br />
"Yeah, you keep fucking saying that, but you never say what happened! Did you fall in a ravine? Get struck on the head by a falling tree limb? Abducted and anally probed by aliens?" <br />
<br />
"No, and you wouldn't believe me if I told you." <br />
<br />
"If it was some big, horrific incident, wouldn't you have been in the hospital somewhere? Somebody would have recognized you! We had your picture all over the goddamn news stations for weeks searching for you!" <br />
<br />
"I was gone by then." <br />
<br />
"Gone? Where the fuck did you go?" <br />
<br />
"My family found me and took me with them to San Francisco. I told you that already!" he roars, and Carrumba squawks loudly in her cage, startled by the tone of Edward's voice. <br />
<br />
"Where did they find you? Along the roadside? In the woods? Jesus, Edward, you know that entire area of Arizona like the back of your hand. You couldn't get lost there if you tried!" <br />
<br />
"I, uh, I don't know where they found me. I was unconscious until I woke up in their truck." <br />
<br />
"You were KIDNAPPED?! Oh, my God! I've got to call my dad!" What did those terrible people do to him? <br />
<br />
"NO! No, I wasn't kidnapped, Bella. They rescued me, helped me. I wouldn't be who I am today without them." <br />
<br />
"Who the fuck would help some wayward teenager - who was obviously injured and unconsious - and put them in their car to drive them to California, Edward?" The volume of my voice increasing with every word. "That doesn't make any fucking sense!" <br />
<br />
"My life doesn't make sense, Bella. You'd probably never understand... nor should you." <br />
<br />
"What the hell does that mean? Christ, you are driving me batshit crazy! Why are you being so fucking evasive, Edward?! Why can’t you just give me some goddamn answers?! You at least owe me that!” <br />
<br />
“I don’t fucking owe you anything,” he growls. <br />
<br />
"Yes, I think you do! How could you turn a blind eye to me and never look back?" <br />
<br />
"It's not all about you, Bella! I told you that I don't fucking remember anything before the accident. You're acting like a self-righteous, spoiled princess, and -" <br />
<br />
Hearing that word slip past his lips is what finally sends my anger to a new level. I've never hit anyone in my life, nor do I think it's right to strike someone in the heat of an argument - or at all, for that matter - but that comment is my last straw. My rage is so far beyond critical level with his secrecy and head games that I raise my hand to slap him across the cheek for calling me a "princess". I fucking hate being called that. <br />
<br />
But he must have supersonic reflexes, because I'm barely mid-swing when his hand reaches up to wrap around my wrist, stopping my assault in a fraction of a second. Suddenly, we both gasp and I look up into Edward's eyes - black and feral - and see an emotion that is mirrored in my own. <br />
<br />
Fear. SweetVenom69http://www.blogger.com/profile/16891131791448534680noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2259876397494509092.post-75935937042115096792010-08-13T20:40:00.000-04:002010-09-16T14:22:31.305-04:00Chapter 14Playlist selection: <em>Somewhere I Belong</em> - by Linkin Park<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">Edward POV</div><br />
<br />
“Who was that girl?” Jasper thumbs behind us in the direction of the library. We’ve barely made it to the corner before he starts with the twenty questions.<br />
<br />
“I don’t know.”<br />
<br />
“You don’t know? Well, apparently you do; she said your name. There was so much shock and disbelief going on in there...”<br />
<br />
“Yeah, I know.”<br />
<br />
“Okay, so first you don’t know, and now you do know, Edward. Stop talking in circles; you’re making me dizzy.”<br />
<br />
I roll my eyes at him as we step off the curb, crossing Division Street. “I’ve never met her before, Jazz.” I stare at the ground, trying to rack my brain for where I might have come across her. My vampire memory is incapable of forgetting, so trying to figure that shit out is a waste of time.<br />
<br />
He extends his hand out to grab my arm, halting my quick pace. “Dude, you’re killing me with all the confusion. Talk to me. What’s going on, man?”<br />
<br />
“I don’t know! There was this voice - a fucking woman’s voice - talking about me in my head. When we passed the desk to leave, the girl standing there said my name.” I shake my head, trying to clear out the jumbled thoughts. “It was like she recognized me.”<br />
<br />
Jasper nods. “Yeah, I got that vibe... What else?” <br />
<br />
“I’m not sure. She obviously knows me, but from where? How? I definitely don’t recognize her. What feelings did you pick up from her?” <br />
<br />
“Honestly, I couldn’t tell which emotion was coming from you and which was coming from her; everything was so jumbled together. I’m not kidding about the dizziness, man. I’m surprised I didn’t topple over right there at the circulation desk.”<br />
<br />
I ignore his weak attempt at a joke and shake my head. “I just can’t figure it all out. Her voice in my head...” <br />
<br />
He seems to sense the sudden spike in my anxiety and tries to lighten the conversation. “Yeah, well, you’re one of the mysterious Cullen kids, remember? She’s probably seen you with Carlisle at the hospital or something. Maybe she was a patient there. She probably knows you’re the only single one in the family, and she’s looking for a ‘good time’.” He waggles his eyebrows suggestively. I don’t find it funny at the moment.<br />
<br />
“No, dick. I’m telling you... it was like she remembered me but couldn’t believe what she was seeing. It was the weirdest thing...”<br />
<br />
“Well, let’s go back and talk to her.” He whips around and starts walking back in the direction of the library. I grab his arm to stop him, not sure if approaching this girl is what I should do.<br />
<br />
“No, not yet. I need to talk to Carlisle about this shit. Can vampires hallucinate?”<br />
<br />
We laugh, but thankfully, he drops the subject until we get back to the house. Alice is waiting for us on the porch when we arrive. She tells us that she had a vision of me wanting to talk to the family, so she gathered them in the living room to await our return.<br />
<br />
“What’s going on, Edward?” Esme says, concern written all over her face.<br />
<br />
“I’m not sure,” I tell her. She pulls me to sit on the ottoman in the center of the room and waves her hand to indicate I have their full attention. I focus mostly on Carlisle as I speak. “So, Jazz and I were at the library - just hanging out for a bit - you know? Well, all of a sudden I kept hearing this woman’s voice in my head.” <br />
<br />
Emmett chuckles and I glare at him, giving him my middle finger. Esme chastises me with a warning look, then clears her throat to speak. “Then what happened, sweetheart?”<br />
<br />
I give them the play-by-play of the events from the library, and then they discuss the possibilities of why I can only hear her. Could she be my la tua cantante, whatever the fuck that means? Or that maybe I’m developing mind reading abilities and somehow her mind was the easiest to infiltrate? <br />
<br />
Alice argues against that theory. “Vampires are known to have abilities from the day they wake up, not ‘develop’ them. Our bodies are never changing... how can we develop anything? He either had this talent from the time he transformed and has been hiding it from us, or there’s something else going on.”<br />
<br />
“Well, damn, I always thought your lame-ass talent was that you were a fast runner, Edward. I mean, whoop-tee-fucking-do! We’re vampires; we’re all fast. But if you reading our minds is going to be half as annoying as seeing our future, then I may consider going rogue,” Rosalie chides, casting a fleeting glance in Alice’s direction. I roll my eyes at Rose, hiding a smirk. She’s such a bitch sometimes, but I love her sarcasm. <br />
<br />
Alice huffs, but otherwise stays quiet.<br />
<br />
“Look. I’ve never had this happen before today. Never! I don’t understand what’s going on. That’s why I wanted to talk to all of you, to get your opinions. What if she really knew me in my human life?” I look at each of my family members, taking in their pensive expressions. <br />
<br />
While they are lost in their own thoughts, I play that last scenario on a constant loop in my head... what if she really knew me in my human life? <br />
<br />
But if that were true, and we met face-to-face again, she would notice the differences, if she hadn’t already today at the library. I don’t know if I was always pale or if I had a nice tan. Either way, my pallor is abnormal to humans. If she were to ever touch my hand, she’d feel the cool temperature of my body, and probably flinch from the unexpected texture of my skin.<br />
<br />
What about my eyes? I know it’s characteristic of my family’s diet, but I’m one-hundred percent sure my human irises were not this golden color. I’ve never seen a human with eyes like ours. Would she have known me well enough to know what color they used to be? <br />
<br />
And then there’s the clincher: I didn’t recognize her. She said my name. My name. She knows me... or knew me; I’m sure I’m not the same guy she had once known. I groan in frustration. I don’t know what I should fucking do - ignore her completely? Find her and get answers to the questions I’ve been asking myself since they day I woke up in this life? Would that be risking my family’s secret? Should I just pack some shit and leave Forks like I had been considering lately? <br />
<br />
Carlisle says I should wait and keep an eye on her, see if something triggers any memories, but I just don’t know if that’s something I should do or not. <br />
<br />
So, I do nothing.<br />
<br />
For a few weeks, I go about my usual schedule... of nothing. I hunt, hang out with my family, and contemplate the nomadic lifestyle. Thoughts of this mystery girl cycle through my mind constantly, but I still can’t make a decision about what to do. Should I go back to the library in hopes of finding her again? Should I ignore my thoughts of her and pretend it never happened? I’m so fucking unsure. <br />
<br />
So, in keeping with the theme... I do nothing.<br />
<br />
Until...<br />
<br />
Early one morning in February - nearly two months after the incident in the library - I’m at the lonely, useless traffic light in the sprawling metropolis of Forks when the voice registers through my mind.<br />
<br />
“C’mon! Shit! I’m going to be late!”<br />
<br />
I glance in the rearview mirror at the car behind me, noticing a burly logger lighting a cigarette. <br />
<br />
“Ah, damn. Hurry up!”<br />
<br />
There’s no one in the turning lane beside me, but in the on-coming lane, there’s a white sedan behind a delivery van. <br />
<br />
“Go, lady! Jesus...”<br />
<br />
I can’t see the driver, but once the light turns green, I gently press the gas pedal and creep through the intersection slowly, trying to get a good glimpse of the person inside. To my disappointment, it’s a scrawny teenage boy, probably headed to the high school. <br />
<br />
Damn.<br />
<br />
As I drive past the white car, the voice goes silent, so I turn down the next street and begin to zig zag around the blocks near the intersection, hoping to catch the voice again, but it’s gone. I wonder if she was in a nearby store? Was she in another car headed in the opposite direction? I must need to be within a certain range to hear her. Giving up on my search after a few moments, I head back to the house.<br />
<br />
I try to push the voice to the back burner of my mind, not wanting to obsess over it or her. I try to think about what she looked like, but I wasn’t really paying attention to those details at the time. I remember the basics: she was short with long brown hair and had on black and gray tennis shoes, jeans, and a green t-shirt. Other than that, I didn’t really get a good look at her face. I was too absorbed with deciphering the voice to focus on the person before I darted through the exit doors. I don’t even remember catching her scent; I think I held my breath the entire time I was in the library.<br />
<br />
In April, I hear the voice again, but this time I’m driving past Tillicum Park. I make a U-turn and pull into the parking lot just as families are piling into their minivans after a soccer game. Her thoughts are vague and don’t help me locate her in the mass of humans milling around the lot. I crack open the rear window, not wanting the sunlight to reflect directly on my skin, and allow the various aromas of the people to waft into the car. I recognize several from being around the residents of Forks for the past year and a half. But unfortunately, nothing triggers any memories from the library.<br />
<br />
By now - the end of May - I’ve caught her voice in my head two more times. Once in the mall in Port Angeles and today at the grocery store.<br />
<br />
Esme has sent me on an errand for items from the hardware store. In a small town like Forks, it’s common to have a grocery/hardware store combo, I guess. I wouldn’t know, really. I only remember living in San Fran and Forks. I have no fucking clue if it’s normal or not... Anyway, at the Thriftway, I head straight to the section containing the hammers and mallets, perusing the shelves, when I’m struck with her voice again.<br />
<br />
“Wow! Chicken breasts on sale for ninety-nine cents a pound?” <br />
<br />
I spin around, looking for the girl, but quickly realize she wouldn’t be looking for that shit in the hardware portion of the store. That means she’s just on the other side of the wall from me! Suddenly, I’m really nervous about seeing her. I need to be all stalker-like and shit, because I can’t risk a scene in public. What if she faints? What if she screams? What if I do?<br />
<br />
Deciding to stop asking “what if’s” and just to scope her out, I place the items in my hands back on the shelf and casually walk toward the opening that separates the two stores.<br />
<br />
I’ve never been in a grocery store - never having a need to go there - so I’m feeling a tad bit out of my element, but I’m a man on a fucking mission to follow the voice. But when I get to the meats section, she’s not there. Fuck! Please tell me that I didn’t lose her already?<br />
<br />
“Eggs, milk, butter. Eggs, milk, butter.” <br />
<br />
Thank you very much, I silently reply back, appreciating her clues as to where she is headed in the store. I see the large refrigerator doors across the back wall, and maneuver around the produce section, trying to get a good perch to watch for the girl. The smell of the overly-ripe bananas in the bin next to me is extremely revolting, so I move over to the open buckets of potatoes and wait.<br />
<br />
And there she is.<br />
<br />
And she’s beautiful. How did I not notice this before? Her hair is pulled up into a loose ponytail and she’s wearing shorts and a long-sleeved shirt. She’s with another girl and they seem to be chatting about plans for the weekend while she places items into a handbasket, but surprisingly, her thoughts are about me.<br />
<br />
“Should I tell her about seeing Edward, or not?”<br />
<br />
The girls proceed to shop for other items, and I listen in shamelessly, wondering if she will mention me again. However, she decides to revisit that thought later on tonight when she’s alone with her friend.<br />
<br />
Oh, I’m definitely going to listen in on that conversation...<br />
<br />
Now that I’ve gotten a good look at her, I decide to leave the store and wait until she gets into her vehicle. Just as I’ve turned from the display of potatoes, my cell phone rings. I don’t have to look at the damn display to know it’s Alice.<br />
<br />
“I’m not going to do anything, Alice. Stay off my back!” I growl into the receiver.<br />
<br />
“You don’t know that, Edward. I haven’t seen what you are going to do because you haven’t decided on it!”<br />
<br />
“I’m just going to follow her - see where she lives. I’m not going to approach her now!” The automatic doors slide open and I rush to exit the store. My car is parked at the far end of the lot near the hardware store entrance. I walk at a swift human pace and climb in, completely ignoring Alice’s rant.<br />
<br />
“...anything stupid, Edward. Okay?”<br />
<br />
“Yeah, alright. I’ll be home in a little bit. I just want to see where she lives.” She starts to bitch about something else, but I hang up on her and turn my phone off. <br />
<br />
A few minutes later, the girl and her friend exit the store and trot over to a gaudy, red pick-up truck. Jesus, what a piece of shit! The beast roars to life, sputtering noxious fumes into the air, and pulls out onto the 101, headed north.<br />
<br />
There’s not much traffic on the highway, but I allow two other cars to pull out onto the the road in front of me, and I follow the vapors from her truck. I don’t want her to know I’m following her. Two turns later, I find that monstrosity parked in front of a large Victorian home. There are three metal mailboxes next to the front door. I assume the house has been divided into apartments. Which one is hers?<br />
<br />
Her voice rings out in my head, mentioning how happy her friend seems and whether or not she, herself, would ever be that happy again. The timbre of the voice is sad and somber. I wonder what happened to her.<br />
<br />
“Tonight. I’ll tell her about seeing him tonight... after of wine... or two.”<br />
<br />
I waffer with my urge to stay in front of her house, listening in on her thoughts, or to come back later this evening under the cover of darkness like the creepy voyeur that I’ve recently become. <br />
<br />
Turning the car around in a neighbor’s driveway, I get a moment more to listen in before I’m too far out of range to hear her. I head straight home, thinking about what I plan to do now that I know where to find her. I need to figure out who she is...<br />
<br />
When I arrive later that evening, the girls are completely drunk and singing karaoke in the apartment. Her thoughts don’t mention anything about me, only which song is next to sing and if she should eat something before she pukes.<br />
<br />
I park my car along the poorly lit curb in front of her house. The dark tinted windows of the car keep me from being spotted easily inside, and I listen intently as their slurred speech turns into mumbles and eventually falls silent as they pass out from all the alcohol. I drive home in the wee hours of the morning, determined to finally take Carlisle’s advice. I’m going to watch her.<br />
<br />
Creepy voyeuristic vampire.<br />
<br />
For the next several weeks, I scope out this mystery woman. Not wanting to alert the neighborhood watch of a strange guy sitting in a car for hours on end, never getting out to visit one of the nearby homes, I start out by hiding in the forest just beyond her home, watching for a pattern to her routine.<br />
<br />
She rises just after dawn three days a week for classes at the UW campus in Forks. On those mornings, I wait until her truck leaves her driveway before I sprint through the forest toward the campus. I hide out in the heavily wooded forest around the Center until she pulls into the lot and makes her way into the classroom. And in true stalker fashion, I wait for her to leave in the early evening and follow her home.<br />
<br />
Two days out of the week, she meets her friend Jake at the diner for breakfast before traveling all around the Olympic Peninsula, collecting data and specimens for their lab courses. <br />
<br />
At first, there’s a surge of jealousy and protectiveness that passes through me, knowing she’s meeting and spending time alone with a man. Who the fuck is this guy? Is this her boyfriend? Why are they meeting at the diner? He doesn’t even meet her at her truck to help her out of it. What if she fell in the parking lot and twisted her ankle? What if a runaway car came barrelling toward her? Surely, this pansy-assed human can’t safeguard her like I can. <br />
<br />
And why the fuck do I even care?<br />
<br />
The first morning I learn about her meetings with Jake, I follow her truck through town and stand in the rain, watching their conversation through the window. My mind is too clouded with emotions, and so I don’t consider the consequences of barging through the restaurant doors and dragging her away with me until I reach the hostess stand, and suddenly I worry how she’ll react once she recognizes me again.<br />
<br />
The young girl at the counter eyes me suspiciously, so I politely ask for a to-go menu. As she’s digging though a stack of papers beneath the register, I hear the dynamic duo’s conversation. She asks what his plans are for the weekend, and he invites her over for a barbeque... with his wife. Well, halle-fucking-lujah! At least I won’t have to kill him... yet.<br />
<br />
On the weekends, she wakes late - usually sleeping in until ten o’clock - then studies at the library - sometimes with Jake, sometimes without him. I prefer the times she’s alone; she mentions my name in her mind more often, but quickly chastises herself and pushes those thoughts to the side.<br />
<br />
“God, I miss Edward so much. NO! Forget him. He’s apparently forgotten you.” <br />
<br />
Then on occasion, she thinks about some motherfucker named Riley. “Am I going to run into Riley someday too? I don’t think I could handle that. One return-from-the-dead encounter is enough for this lifetime.”<br />
<br />
What the fuck does that mean? I make a mental note to find out about him.<br />
<br />
After a few weeks of watching her at a distance and learning her daily schedule, I start to circle closer to her like a goddamn predator to his prey. Not that I want to kill her, but like, I want to know more about her... more about us - our apparent history together. I want to spend some time with her. <br />
<br />
The irony of it all makes me laugh. I mean, it’s like a fucking human wanting to be best friends with a cupcake. Just doesn’t happen. That’s usually when I get a phone call from Alice.<br />
<br />
I visit her apartment mostly at night, trying to avoid detection by lurking in the darkness. I listen to her conversations with friends and what music she likes. She prefers hip hop while she’s cleaning and easy listening tunes while she’s relaxing. But only classical music will do when she’s studying. “I can’t concentrate if I’m singing all the damn lyrics!” she says to herself. It’s kinda cute.<br />
<br />
I learn that her name is Isabella M. Swan - formerly of Phoenix, Arizona - owner of one very annoying bird, an overdue cable bill, and subscriber to Cosmopolitan magazine and the Washington Environmental Council newsletter. She recycles and carries reusable bags to the grocery store. <br />
<br />
Late at night, after she’s fast asleep, I peer into her windows and through her sheer curtains to catch a glimpse of her home. In the living room, she has a collection of cacti on the mantel of the fireplace and a book shelf full of textbooks and novels with a scorpion in a small display case situated on top. <br />
<br />
My family disapproves of me spending so much time just watching this girl, Isabella. Some think I will slip up and be discovered hovering around her apartment, drawing attention to me and our family. Others feel it’s only a matter of time before I snap and hurt her. Alice is frustrated because I can’t make a decision on whether or not to approach her, so she can’t see how things are going to turn out. It’s pretty damn hilarious watching her get all giddy one minute and twitchy-nervous the next. She either sees me as being happy because I’ve gotten all my answers from Isabella and she’s alive and well, or still being happy because I’ve gotten all my answers, but Isabella’s dead, and we’re on the run.<br />
<br />
Esme is confident that things will be alright, but Carlisle is apprehensive. He tries to be secretive about scoping potential places to move our family should something bad happen. I highly doubt that will be the case, but I guess it’s good to err on the side of caution. <br />
<br />
It’s not like I’ve never interacted with a human before, but definitely not of this caliber. Not with the possibility of ruining my family’s life here in Forks or murdering the only person who may give me a glimpse of who I used to be. If I do actually talk to Isabella, there’s no telling what could happen after the confrontation.<br />
<br />
Jazz worries that I’m not hunting enough to maintain the veggie-vamp level of civility and to keep the bloodlust at bay if I plan to be close to her. I argue that it’s ridiculous to feed so regularly, since the constant burning in my throat is always there whether I hunt routinely or not. I’m already used to the scorching flare ups when I’m closer to humans, so I don’t see the point in gorging ourselves on wildlife if it’s unnecessary. He always has a come back, saying stupid shit about using protection with random hook-ups or whatever. He can be such a freak sometimes.<br />
<br />
Rose and Emmett find this all very amusing and tease me relentlessly about my “sweet, little human crush” and all the time I’ve spent following and watching her. Assholes! It’s not a crush. She’s just... just... fascinating to me.<br />
<br />
And really pretty...<br />
<br />
It’s a warm, overcast evening in the middle of June, and as per my usual routine, I creep along the shadows next to Isabella’s house and settle next to the open window of the living room. Usually, I listen as she shuffles around her house, having conversations with the bird and with herself, and even while she just watches TV. It’s somewhat comforting just being near her. Her voice is soft and gentle, and once in a while, she mentions my name.. but usually it’s combined with a few curse words. <br />
<br />
Her mind becomes a flurry of anger, a long string of profanities flood her thoughts, and then just as quickly, she thinks about how much she loves me. Not loved - past tense - but that maybe she still does. My question is... what kind of love? Romantic? Platonic? Familial? Please, Lord, don’t let her be my sister...<br />
<br />
She never lingers long enough on that particular emotion for me to figure it out, so I keep returning to her window every night in hopes of solving this never ending mystery.<br />
<br />
On Wednesdays, I like to eavesdrop on her weekly phone conversation with her friend, Angela. Tonight, the girls are chatting about celebrity gossip while Isabella chops something in the kitchen. She giggles into the phone, and I can’t help the smile that spreads across my face. Her laugh is so damn cute. <br />
<br />
There’s a gentle gurgling sound coming from inside, so I assume she’s cooking herself dinner, but it’s hard to see what happening through the bird’s cage that is blocking the window.<br />
<br />
I stand on my tip toes, trying to get a better glimpse inside the kitchen. My movement catches the attention of the bird, and it suddenly squawks loudly, startling Isabella and causing her to slice her finger. And that’s when I smell it...<br />
<br />
Human blood.<br />
<br />
In a fraction of a second, my muscles tense and my fingers clench into claws, ready to pounce and strike at my prey. The familiar metallic taste of venom floods my mouth, and I prepare to burst through her window to feast on the crimson ambrosia dripping from her finger, when the goddamned bird screeches in a frantic alarm and breaks me from my thirst-induced trance just long enough to make me suddenly aware of the situation.<br />
<br />
I’m about to kill Isabella.<br />
<br />
The bird continues to carry on with it’s loud warning cries, but I’m frozen in place, afraid to move a muscle until I’ve settled my urge to hunt. I don’t dare breathe while the delicious aroma still lingers in the air.<br />
<br />
As Isabella attends to her wound, I slowly back away from the window - not wanting to make any sudden movements until I’m far enough away to turn and run. And run. And run.<br />
<br />
Alice calls my cell phone before I leave the yard, and I apologize profusely.<br />
<br />
“I’m so sorry, Alice. Please tell them I’m so sorry,” I beg, not wanting to face my family right now, shame surging through me.<br />
<br />
“It’s okay, Edward. It was bound to happen at some point. Just be happy you didn’t go through with it.”<br />
<br />
“I know. I am.”<br />
<br />
She’s quiet for a few seconds then she sighs. “Please, don’t be gone long.”<br />
<br />
“I won’t.” I turn of my phone, stuff it down into my pocket, and continue to run.<br />
<br />
Two weeks later, I drag my sorry ass back home. I still feel guilty for nearly murdering the one person who’s held any interest for me since I woke up from my transformation. The one who holds all the answers to who I was in my former life.<br />
<br />
Emmett, Jasper, and Carlisle meet me at the door wearing matching smiles.<br />
<br />
“Glad to have you back, son.” <br />
<br />
“Thanks.” I hang my head, ashamed of running away like a fucking coward.<br />
<br />
Carlisle pulls me into the kitchen and leans against the counter to face me. He reiterates one of the first conversations we ever had about bloodlust, the necessity for frequent hunting, yadda yadda yadda...<br />
<br />
I consider myself properly scolded.<br />
<br />
He leaves me to my brothers, their devilish smirks alerting me to something I’m probably not going to like.<br />
<br />
“What’s up, guys?” I raise my eyebrows, waiting for a fucking answer.<br />
<br />
“Oh, not much,” Emmett says, elbowing Jazz in the ribs.<br />
<br />
“Okay, okay... out with it! What are you assholes not telling me?”<br />
<br />
Jasper reaches out and wraps his arm around my shoulder. “We have a little present for you.” I eye them both suspiciously, recalling every one of the practical jokes they’ve played on me.<br />
<br />
“No, thanks. I’ve had enough of them over the past four years.”<br />
<br />
Emmett’s smile gets bigger. “No, dude. Trust me, you’ll like this.”<br />
<br />
I volley my eyes between the two douchebags before surrendering with a sigh. “Alright... what is it?”<br />
<br />
Emmett pulls his arm from around his back and hands me a flimsy plastic storage container. “Here’s some sweets from your sweetie,” he laughs.<br />
<br />
“What the fuck is this?” I ask. The plastic is semi-opaque and hard to see through, so I pop open the lid and glance at its contents. What the...? When the stench from inside fills my nostrils, I whip the container across the kitchen where it splinters a cabinet door. “Holy Jesus! What is that shit?!”<br />
<br />
“Your girlfriend made them for you, asshole!” Jasper says, picking up the remnants of plastic and treats.<br />
<br />
I look over at him, then at Emmett, confused. “She made them... for me?” How did she know...? Why...?<br />
<br />
With Jasper now scouring the floor to collect all the particles of chocolate that scattered when the container busted, Emmett grabs me in a headlock and tells me what happened while I was away, “First, she shows up one night and snoops around the property, trying to look in windows and shit, then comes back the next day with a container of treats, saying that they used to be your favorite.” He’s quiet for a moment while he studies my face. “You know what you’ve gotta do, right?”<br />
<br />
I look from his face to the mutilated container of cookies that Jazz put on the counter and whisper, “I have to go talk to her.”<br />
<br />
I fret over this for the next two days. Now that she’s made the first move to contact me, I don’t know if I really want to talk to her. What would I say? “Hi, I’m Edward Cullen. Do you know me?” It makes me feel like a little lost puppy looking for his home or some shit. Wasn’t there some kind of identification at the cabin where Esme, Alice, and Emmett found me? Couldn’t they have spent an extra two minutes to find out where I was from?<br />
<br />
How does she know where I live?<br />
<br />
Isabella had left a card with the cookies: Please call me. Bella 602-555.9655. <br />
<br />
An Arizona area code? How do I know it’s an Arizona area code? I’ve never called Arizona! Jesus, this whole situation gets more and more twisted... <br />
<br />
I was found in Arizona, and she did mention something about Phoenix at the library. Is she from Phoenix? Am I from Phoenix?<br />
<br />
Finally, I make a plan to approach her. Alice says the meeting will be informative, but she doesn’t give me any more than that. <br />
<br />
I pick up a little gift for her at a bookstore in town - a peace offering, of sorts - and make my way toward her apartment. <br />
<br />
I pull into the driveway, parking behind her behemoth truck, I exhale sharply before pulling in a deep lungful of air, my anxiety increasing tenfold. This is it, buddy boy. This is what you want... answers. <br />
<br />
The rain is pouring down in sheets, and I exit the car, making my way toward her door like I was walking the fucking “Green Mile”. I step onto the tiny porch, listening to her thoughts inside, measuring her mood.<br />
<br />
“Red or white? Hmm, definitely red.”<br />
<br />
She seems to be in a mellow mood, so I take one last deep breath and knock lightly against the metal door. The damn bird squawks loudly until Isabella - Bella, as her note indicated - shushes it and pads toward the door. <br />
<br />
If my heart was still beating, it would be pounding furiously. Why am I so damn nervous? I’m higher on the goddamn food chain! She should be nervous of me!<br />
<br />
The locks click softly and the safety chain slides across the catch, but the second the door cracks open, I stare down at my shoes, too anxious to look her in the eye.<br />
<br />
Her breath catches in her throat and I can hear her swallowing several times, her heartbeat thumping wildly. She doesn’t say a word for a few seconds, but it feels like an eternity to me. <br />
<br />
Slowly, I raise my eyes to take in her long, exposed legs, short denim shorts, tight red tank top, plump lips, adorable button nose, and deep, soulful brown eyes. The same eyes that look like she’s trying to dismember me with a wicked glare.<br />
<br />
“Nice of you to grace me with your presence, Edward,” Bella sneers.<br />
<br />
Oh, this is not good...SweetVenom69http://www.blogger.com/profile/16891131791448534680noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2259876397494509092.post-35390377736559295342010-07-22T19:14:00.001-04:002010-09-16T14:22:31.305-04:00Chapter 13<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight or it's character names - those belong to Stephenie Meyer. Bittersweet Irony and it's characterizations, backgrounds, and plot lines belong to SweetVenom69. No copying, translation, or reproduction is allowed without my written authorization. © 2010 SweetVenom69.</span></div><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Playlist selection: New Life by Depeche Mode</span><br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">Edward POV</div><br />
<br />
“Edward?”<br />
<br />
“Yeah?” I sigh and turn my attention away from staring at the television and toward the sweet, gentle voice of Esme, my mother for all intents and purposes.<br />
<br />
“Jasper is waiting for you.” She nods toward the garage. “He wants to talk to you.”<br />
<br />
I groan and turn off the television. He always wants to talk to me. Jasper has taken it upon himself to be my personal vampire shrink - talking, listening, giving unsolicited advice. It's pretty annoying, to be honest, but my brother means no harm. He knows how difficult it's been for me – this new life – living among strangers, completely at a loss of my former life, struggling to refrain from feasting on humans. Thankfully, I never succumbed to my vampiric nature and killed a human, but I came close a time or two.<br />
<br />
That is something I'm very happy about – to have been “raised” by a family of vampires who appreciate humans, respect them. We were all humans once. I like to think that maybe I was an upstanding guy in my former life and not a sadistic serial killer or something. How fucking ironic would that be? I can see the headlines now: “Vicious murderer-turned-vampire only hunts animals now”.<br />
<br />
From inside her room upstairs, Alice laughs and I shoot my middle finger in her general direction, even though she can't physically see me do it. I know she just had a vision of me deciding to check the America's Most Wanted website for a picture of me.<br />
<br />
But that's just it! I have no fucking clue as to what my life used to be like. I could have been married with two kids and a dog. A job at the Post Office and have a mortgage and two car payments. Maybe I went on family vacations every year to Disney World or on a Caribbean cruise. Carlisle doesn't think that I was old enough for all that, though. He estimates that I'm in my late teens or early twenties. But of course, he doesn't know for sure. That doesn't matter though. What does matter is that there's probably someone out there who knew me, cared about me, was friends with me... I just want to know what I was like back then. <br />
<br />
My current family has helped me immensely with transitioning into this world, but as each day passes, I find myself needing to know about my life as a human.<br />
<br />
Was I a college student when I was turned? Or was I still in high school and a total band geek that couldn't get laid if I tried? Did I have a girlfriend... or a wife? <br />
<br />
Seeing my family members with their mates ignites that twinge of jealousy every time they split off into couples. They hide away in their rooms to canoodle, and I'm left standing in my shower with my dick in my hand, trying to satisfy myself while simultaneously trying to block out the sounds of their lovemaking.<br />
<br />
God, this life is so fucking lonely sometimes.<br />
<br />
Then there's the “stay out of the sunlight around humans” rule. Yeah, I get why, but fuck, I love the sun. I love how warm it feels on my skin, and the sparkling is kind of cool, too. <br />
<br />
A few times when I was hunting alone, I would find a secluded meadow, strip completely naked, and bask in the sunlight for hours. It was incredible – being one with nature. Even with those goddamn bugs buzzing incessantly in my ears. Why couldn't we live someplace without insects? They drive me fucking crazy with their little wings fluttering so fast they cause a loud humming in my ears. They whiz through the air, making a mad dash towards me because they are attracted to the prisms reflected on my skin. Why can't they be afraid of vampires like every other fucking creature? No, those pesky things are attracted to us. Like a fucking moth to a flame or some shit.<br />
<br />
And then there's the million-dollar question... why the hell do I have a goddam tattoo of the Latin word for a butterfly on my wrist? Yeah, I Googled that shit. Now, I'm stuck with it for all eternity. Thankfully, Emmett stopped calling me “Little Butterfly” after a year or so of living with them. He can be such a prick sometimes.<br />
<br />
But that brings me back to wanting to know about my previous life... and whether or not I'll ever find a mate in this life. It's not like I can skip down to the local bar and pick up a hot, female vamp. <br />
<br />
See? It's a goddamn vicious cycle. <br />
<br />
I trudge through the kitchen and exit into the garage, noticing Jasper leaning against his Ducati. His eyebrows raise as he analyzes my emotional state, checking to see if I'm in a decent mood or not.<br />
<br />
“I'm fine, Jazz.”<br />
<br />
“Uh huh,” he mutters, still monitoring my attitude.<br />
<br />
I sigh and nod toward the forest, hinting to him that I want to run; I always feel better after I run. We head north toward Sappho and take down two elk near the highway. I'm not really thirsty, but the fresh ingestion of blood takes the edge off my anxiety. After we feed, we sprint east and race to the top of Sourdough Mountain, then settle down on an outcrop of boulders near the summit.<br />
<br />
“You wanted to talk?” I push, tired of his constant watching me and waiting for my mood to change.<br />
<br />
“Emmett told me that you were thinking about taking off by yourself for a while...” he hedges.<br />
<br />
“Yeah.”<br />
<br />
He doesn't say anything... just patiently waits for me to continue.<br />
<br />
“I told you before, man. I just feel like I'm missing something in my life, or whatever you call this fucked up existence. I just don't want to stay in this podunk town, pretending to be something I'm not. Isn't there some sort of online dating service for vampires or some shit? I'm tired of being the only single one in the house.” I huff, picking at the tender grass next to my leg.<br />
<br />
He laughs and shakes his head. “Not that I know of...”<br />
<br />
“It's not just wanting to get laid – hell, I don't even know if I'm a virgin or not! I don't know anything about where I came from, who I am. I've never gone anywhere, seen anything. I want to experience something. I want that, Jasper. I need that.”<br />
<br />
“I know.”<br />
<br />
“Then there's the secret society of Emmett, Esme, and Alice.” He growls at my snide comment about his wife, but I ignore it. “All they ever tell me when I ask about where they found me is that I was in a cabin in the mountains of Arizona and my family was gone. Gone, as in left on vacation or as in dead? They always change the subject when I try to dig deeper; I want details. I know they're hiding something from me; maybe it's minor, but I feel I have the right to know. Sometimes I wish I had the ability to read minds.” I groan, frustrated with my waffling emotions. “I just hate not knowing what else the world has to offer me. I want to go to school and have a job. Travel to the desert and sky dive.” I turn to look at him, imploring with my eyes for him to understand. “Fuck, man, I've never even been to a God damned library!”<br />
<br />
He nods and glances out at the view from our perch on the mountain. “Are you happy? I mean, in the grand scheme of things... are you content with being a vampire?”<br />
<br />
I shrug my shoulders, not sure of the answer to his question. “I just feel like there's some empty hole inside of me that's craving to be filled.” I pause to peek up at him. “That's how I feel, Jazz. Empty. Maybe I do need to get laid,” I laugh.<br />
<br />
He chuckles and claps a hand on my shoulder. “I know something that'll perk you up, bro,” he says with a small smile. “Let's go to the library. Maybe we’ll find something to peak your interest in all the wonders of the world. Maybe we'll even find you a mate while we're at it.” He elbows me in the ribs and takes off down the mountain, leaving me to follow in his wake.<br />
<br />
As I speed through the moss-covered trees, I think back to everything that's happened in my life – my new life...<br />
<br />
“Edward?” I don’t respond other than to turn my face toward that gentle voice. “Open your eyes, dear.”<br />
<br />
My lids flutter open and I glance around, not recognizing the space. There’s a woman in front of me and she’s holding my hand, rubbing the back of it soothingly.<br />
<br />
<br />
I shift to pull away from her, but I bump into a wall... more like the inside of a car door. What the fuck is going on? I look back at the woman and she reaches her hand toward me, but I twist away again, somehow winding up in the cargo area of the SUV. How did I just do that? I barely moved!<br />
<br />
“Edward, it’s okay,” the woman says with a warm smile on her lips. “We’re here to help you, darling.” I’m confused as to why she thinks I need her help. She nods her head toward the behemoth sitting next to me and the tiny chick turned around in the driver's seat, facing us.<br />
<br />
Why the fuck am I in a car with these people? Have I been kidnapped? Where the hell are we?<br />
<br />
The chick nods toward the big guy and he raises his hands to show he's not trying to threaten me.<br />
<br />
“Relax, man. We're not here to hurt you. Just have a seat and Esme will explain.” He waves his hand toward the woman in the front passenger seat.<br />
<br />
“Who are you people and where are you taking me?” I'm startled by the crisp sound of my voice, and I suddenly notice the distinct sound of wind as it whirls past our speeding truck. Instead of the typical purr of an engine in a new vehicle, ours sounds like a loud, rumbly tractor-trailer. <br />
<br />
The sky is dark outside, but the colors of the landscape and road signs are bright as if it were daytime. I can see leaves on the trees – individually – without having to squint. How fast are we going? I glance past the driver at the speedometer and notice we're approaching 167 miles per hour. Jesus, fuck!<br />
<br />
“Calm down, Edward. This is slow for us, trust me.” The chick winks at me in the rear view mirror and the big guy next to me clamps a hand on my shoulder, keeping me from flipping into the back of the truck again.<br />
<br />
“Alice, dear, why don't we pull off and get Edward fed. I'm sure he's thirsty.”<br />
<br />
Now that she mentions it, my throat is dry and burning. “Yeah, I am, thank you.”<br />
<br />
The truck exits the highway and into the parking lot of an abandoned rest stop. I hesitate to get out, but the big guy tugs on my arm and pulls me through his side of the vehicle.<br />
<br />
“Alice?”<br />
<br />
The chick stares blankly into outer space for a moment and then blinks several times, nodding her head. “He'll do fine. I'll get him something.”<br />
<br />
Big Guy keeps a tight hold on me, but I don't fight him. It's probably no use to try to get away.<br />
<br />
“Edward, dear, this is Emmett,” she says with a smile and gives Big Guy a one-armed hug. He grins down at her but doesn't say anything.<br />
<br />
She continues, “My name is Esme. I'm kind of the mother of the family.” <br />
<br />
I nod slightly, already having gathered that information from her gentle demeanor and direction of handling me.<br />
<br />
The traffic is light on the highway behind us, but I hear a low humming noise, sounds of twigs snapping about a quarter mile beyond the tree line, and a faint tha-dum tha-dum sound... like a heartbeat. I would assume it's coming from Emmett, but it’s resonating from the forest. <br />
<br />
The heartbeat picks up in rhythm and a muted squeal starts and stops almost instantaneously. Suddenly, Alice is emerging from the woods with a goddamn deer in her hands. Uhh...<br />
<br />
“Here ya go, brother. Bon appetite!” She smiles and tosses the doe across the parking lot, and it lands unceremoniously at my feet. What. The. Fuck?<br />
<br />
My throat is scorching, but the taste flooding my mouth is slightly acidic, metallic, bitter. Before I realize it, I'm face deep into the neck of the animal, sucking and slurping the blood from it's body. The tha-dum tha-dum has gone silent.<br />
<br />
I drop the deer from my grasp, but it only falls a few inches to the ground. I stare at my hands, freaked the fuck out as to how I managed to crouch down and raise the creature to my face as if it weighed nothing.<br />
<br />
The blood that I just ingested – which I can't believe I actually did – has snuffed out the burning sensation in my throat, but I feel the need for more. Why? What's happened to me?<br />
<br />
“It's okay, bro,” Emmett says, patting my back approvingly. “Next time, we'll let you take one down yourself.”<br />
<br />
What?!<br />
<br />
“Alright, guys, let's get a move on. We need to be back in San Francisco by tomorrow.”<br />
<br />
We climb back into the SUV and speed north, Alice behind the wheel and Emmett by my side.<br />
<br />
“Let me ask you something, Edward,” Esme begins, twisting around in her front passenger seat again. “Do you believe in the existence of vampires?” <br />
<br />
Esme tells me about my new life – or non-life – and about my new family: her husband, Carlisle, and Alice and Emmett's spouses, Jasper and Rosalie. She explains the changes in my body, the physical abilities I now have. There's some sort of group conversation about the indescribable pain I endured and how long I was probably unconscious, but I tune most of that shit out. <br />
<br />
I'm a motherfucking vampire. <br />
<br />
I turn away from the chatter and focus my attention outside of the car. The dark forest passes by us in a slight blur, but I can still make out the details of the foliage... or lack there of. There's cacti and boulders, sand and nothing. Where the hell are we?<br />
<br />
“We're in southern California, Edward,” Alice chirps. “Near Joshua Tree.”<br />
<br />
How did she-?<br />
<br />
“I get a vision of what will happen once someone makes a decision. I knew what you were going to ask before you actually spoke.” She glances at me in the rearview mirror, giggles, and then lowers her eyes to the road.<br />
<br />
“So, you're psychic or some shit?”<br />
<br />
Esme takes in a slight gasp, but doesn't turn toward me. I assume she doesn't approve of my cussing. She really does act like a mother. <br />
<br />
Alice giggles and nods. <br />
<br />
Well... Shit! <br />
<br />
Alice drives us straight through the night to San Francisco. The ride is mostly silent, at least from my standpoint. I don't know these people, and I'm trying to wrap my head around what Esme told me; I'm a vampire.<br />
<br />
I still can't believe it.<br />
<br />
We pull up to a fancy house, apparently in the Sausalito area, according to Esme. Like this matters to me. I don't give a shit where these people live, but maybe I should since it's where I'll be living. Fuck, it's hard to grasp that this is my new family, that I fucking feed from animals. Shouldn't vampires drink human blood? Maybe I should ask...<br />
<br />
“Technically, yes, but our family is different. We don't want to kill humans.”<br />
<br />
I glare at Alice, hating that she can read my mind, or see my future, or whatever the hell it is she can do.<br />
<br />
I wonder if I have any superpowers.<br />
<br />
Emmett corrals me into the house, and I'm greeted by three other vampires – their spouses. Esme's husband, Carlisle, greets me with a warm smile and a manly handshake. Alice's husband, Jasper gives me a welcoming nod, and Emmett's wife, Rosalie, offers a half-assed smile.<br />
<br />
Carlisle brings me into his study and proceeds to ask me questions about how I'm feeling, what's running through my head, and do I remember anything about my previous life.<br />
<br />
I tell him that I'm not sure how I'm feeling. Confused, anxious, maybe a bit intrigued. It's not every day you discover you've been transformed into some mythical creature and expect to be fucking thrilled about it. I'm nervous about being around humans after my reaction with the deer. I'm worried about if I had a family that will miss me. Esme says that I will never be able to see them again. I can understand why, but a part of me is curious about where I came from. I mean, how old am I? I don't even know my fucking last name!<br />
<br />
Esme joins Carlisle and I, and together they explain the dynamics of their family, of the threat of a visit from the Volturi – whoever those douchebags are - and the need to keep me in seclusion for my first year. That part freaks me the fuck out, but I think back to that damn deer, and I realize the importance of staying away from humans unless I'm with someone from my family.<br />
<br />
The first few days, they drive me out of town – toward the mountains and valleys – to hunt. My first day, I watch Jasper stalk and take down an elk with relative ease. He leaves it in the brush for me and heads off in another direction to capture his own meal. The next day, Rosalie ravages a mountain lion and snarls at me when I get too close, admiring her stealth and grace as she pounces, attacks, and feeds.<br />
<br />
The animal instinct in us is very confusing to deal with; the blinding possessiveness over food is strange and the automatic tensing of my muscles as I prepare to strike my prey. My prey... what happened to food? Cheese burgers and pizza pockets? Tacos and lasagna? I don't even know if I liked that shit in my human life. <br />
<br />
By the third day, I've finally mustered enough courage to try this shit out myself. Just let your instincts take over, they say. Yeah, well, it's still a bit unsettling to attack a bear, but once I see first hand how impenetrable our skin is, taking down that fucker is a piece of cake. <br />
<br />
Over the next two years, I learn to balance my predatory nature with my human nature. I'm slowly introduced back into society, but always with one of my family members with me. I only ever need to go to Carlisle's hospital from time to time and occasionally to the hardware store. I'm forced to feed regularly, even when I'm not thirsty; It helps with the scorching in my throat while I'm around people.<br />
<br />
I quickly learn to stay out of direct sunlight, primarily around humans, to keep our shimmery skin from exposing us. It's kind of a pain in the ass; I really like the sun.<br />
<br />
We stay in the San Fran area for another year. Apparently, the Cullens only stay in one place for a few years and then relocate to start over. They've changed their names a few times, forging all new identities, and severing all ties with their former lives to vanish without a trace. Thankfully, they've only adopted this surname and identities five years ago, so we have several more years before I have to get used to being someone else. I hardly know who I am, so it seems extremely difficult to pretend to be someone else.<br />
<br />
After being with the Cullens for four years, Carlisle gets a new position at a hospital in Forks, and we move at the end of December. We settle into our new place, a new routine, but the novelty of this new life is starting to wear thin. I'm getting restless, needing something more, something meaningful, but I don't know what that something might be.<br />
<br />
We arrive on the edge of town and walk at human speed toward the library. The skies are overcast, but thankfully there’s no rain in the forecast. Jasper keeps stealing sidelong glances at me, measuring my emotions. Normally, this would annoy the shit out of me, but right now, I'm too excited to be going someplace new... even if it isn't traveling the world.<br />
<br />
As we reach the library door, I'm practically vibrating with excitement. The musky smell of old books wafts from the slight crack in the door jamb and mixes with the stench of mildewed carpet. We enter and are immediately greeted with a whisper by the librarian behind the desk. Jasper nods hello and heads in her direction.<br />
<br />
“Good afternoon, ma'am. My brother and I,” he turns and waves his hand in my direction,”are looking for books on travel. Can you please point us in the right direction?”<br />
<br />
The gray-haired woman blinks a few times, then steps from behind the counter and heads toward the far wall of the library. We follow her, but at the same time, I'm taking in all the genres of books – romance, self-improvement, sci-fi... hell, there's even a big display of a popular fictional story of vampires.<br />
<br />
“Hey, Jazz... you see this shit?” I scoff and stop to point at the table covered in memorabilia and books.<br />
<br />
He laughs and shakes his head.<br />
<br />
The librarian shows us a section of dusty shelves chocked full of travel books and magazines. She leaves us and scampers back toward the circulation desk. I collect a few books, Jazz grabs a magazine from a nearby rack, and we head up toward a collection of tables near the front of the library.<br />
<br />
I breeze through the books quickly, not finding anything in particular that peaks my interest, and slide them to the side of the table.<br />
<br />
“So, what now?” I quietly ask Jasper. He shrugs and turns his magazine in my direction. I take it and look at the article on the page he's faced toward me. “'A Desert Oasis: A Traveler's Guide to Las Vegas'?”<br />
<br />
He nods and teases, “No better place to live it up than in Vegas, baby!”<br />
<br />
We laugh for a moment and then sit in silence for a while. I'm thumbing through the magazine, scoping out all the ads for resorts and bed and breakfasts, when something odd happens; I hear a woman's voice in my head.<br />
<br />
“God, I hate running late.”<br />
<br />
I shake my head slightly, trying to clear the sound. A few moments later, I hear the voice again.<br />
<br />
“Dumb oaf doesn't even know his own strength.”<br />
<br />
What the fuck? I glance over at Jasper, but he's casually glancing at a mother and her daughter checking out books at the circulation desk.<br />
<br />
“I hope they have another copy of this...”<br />
<br />
I stop moving completely, trying to hone in on where that female voice is coming from.<br />
<br />
“Oh. My. God.” The voice pauses for a moment and then continues,”Many people have auburn hair, Bella. Many people have crazy bed-head too.”<br />
<br />
Auburn hair? Crazy bed-head? Is that voice talking about me? Is that voice me talking about me? Can vampires go insane? <br />
<br />
I turn to Jazz, to see if he's hearing the voice too, but he's staring at me, concerned. “Are you okay, Edward?”<br />
<br />
I shake my head slightly and whisper, “I don't know.” I glance around me quickly, only noticing a girl by the desk, but no one close enough for me to hear her words in my head.<br />
<br />
“I've got to be delusional.”<br />
<br />
I snort. Yeah, uh, more like hallucinating, I think to myself. Jasper looks at me again, perplexed. Turning my attention back to the magazine, I try to block out the voice, but it doesn't help. I hear the voice mutter the word 'Phoenix' and suddenly, I'm getting really anxious. <br />
<br />
I know Esme, Alice, and Emmett had found me a few hours outside of Phoenix, but we didn't know if I was from there or not. They took me from the cabin where they found me, not wanting me to wake up alone, confused, and scared. Carlisle had told me that my sire had abandoned me, that he or she was irresponsible for leaving me to fend for myself, and not teaching me to be discreet about my feeding habits. But something always felt as if my new family wasn't telling me the whole truth.<br />
<br />
“Are you okay, man? Your nervousness and confusion are hitting me like a freight train...”<br />
<br />
“I don't know, Jazz. I'm hearing this voice in my head. A woman's voice.”<br />
<br />
“Why am I torturing myself? I've got to be delusional.”<br />
<br />
He lifts his head up to scan around the library, then refocuses on me. “I don't see anyone, or smell any other vampires who could possibly infiltrate your thoughts, or anything. There's just a human standing by the desk, but she does appear to be staring at you.”<br />
<br />
“At me?”<br />
<br />
“It's him, I know it is!”<br />
<br />
“Yeah. She looks like she's gonna be sick or something.”<br />
<br />
“This can't be real. I must be fucking dreaming.”<br />
<br />
I move to turn around to look at her, but my cell phone vibrating in my pocket distracts me. I mash the 'talk' button and whisper into the phone, “Hey, Alice.”<br />
<br />
“Edward, I think you need to leave there... now!” Her voice is slightly frantic, but not overly alarmed.<br />
<br />
“What's wrong, Alice? What did you see?”<br />
<br />
“I don't know. It flickers with different scenarios, but I don't think you want to take a chance of a confrontation in public.”<br />
<br />
“What do you mean a 'confrontation'?”<br />
<br />
“Just come home now and I will fill you in.” And the line goes dead.<br />
<br />
“C'mon, Jazz. Alice says we have to leave now.”<br />
<br />
He nods, having already overheard the entire conversation, and we turn to head toward the exit.<br />
<br />
“It's him, but why? How is he...? Where did he...?”<br />
<br />
As we pass the circulation desk, a young woman is standing in our path, her heartbeat pounding in my ears. I swallow a mouthful of venom as I approach and skirt around her outstretched hand. “Excuse me,” I say to her.<br />
<br />
“That's his voice! I'd know it anywhere!”<br />
<br />
The girl's breathing becomes erratic, and her pulse races as I pass her, but that's not what causes me to make a beeline for the front doors...<br />
<br />
No, that would be the girl I have never met, speaking my name with the same voice I heard in my head.<br />
<br />
“Edward?” <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
**The lake mentioned in Chapter 12 is Lake Crescent. See that posting link on the blog for a pic.SweetVenom69http://www.blogger.com/profile/16891131791448534680noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2259876397494509092.post-78207219144954805532010-07-08T18:38:00.002-04:002010-09-16T14:22:31.305-04:00Chapter 12Playlist selection: Here Comes Your Man – The Pixies<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://i904.photobucket.com/albums/ac244/sweetvenom69/Forks%20Trip%202010/LakeCrescent.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" hw="true" src="http://i904.photobucket.com/albums/ac244/sweetvenom69/Forks%20Trip%202010/LakeCrescent.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"> Bella POV </div> <br />
<br />
I rub my hands up and down my arms, trying to get some friction, some warmth. Jesus, it's cold in this room. I glare at the air conditioner register in the ceiling as it blows cold air into the classroom. I should have brought a sweater. It's eighty-four degrees outside, and with the sub-arctic blast pouring from the vents, you'd think it was one hundred and fifty - these Washingtonians don't know what hot is! This place has nothing on Phoenix. <br />
<br />
I'm pulled from my thoughts of home by the sound of a chair scraping across the linoleum floor. Two more students file into the classroom and sit down at the next table. The only seat left in the class is next to me, and I silently pray that someone sits there, needing the body heat to keep me from becoming a Bellacicle. <br />
<br />
I dig into my backpack, looking for a pen and pad of paper to take notes on, when the professor walks in and introduces himself to the class. <br />
<br />
"Hi, everyone. I'm Professor Banner, and welcome to Understanding Change in Natural and Social Systems - section 4055." He smiles at each of us and pulls several papers from his man-bag. "Let's quickly go over introductions and then we can review the syllabus. There's a lot for us to cover this semester." <br />
<br />
He hands out the syllabi and returns to his spot at the head of our table. There are only twelve students in the class and two lab tables situated in the center of the room. The walls are plastered with diagrams and posters of various geological, marine, and botanical themes. A large aquarium sits on the counter top at the back of the room and bubbles loudly. It's water is low and a dark, murky green. <br />
<br />
Professor Banner informs us that we will be paired up with a lab partner, and together we will be working on assignments and reports based on our research at the Center. <br />
<br />
"Stanley? Newton? Where are you?" <br />
<br />
Two hands shoot up into the air, and the professor informs them of their new partnership. Then he continues, "Next group is Mallory and Yorkie." They both raise their hands and nod at each other in recognition. "Swan and Black?" I raise my hand up, but notice no one else did. "Black? Where's Jacob Black?" Professor Banner glances at the remaining students and opens his mouth to say something else when the classroom door opens and a tall, dark drink of water walks in. Jesus, God in Heaven, he's hot. <br />
<br />
"Sorry I'm late. I'm Jake Black." <br />
<br />
Oh, Lord. <br />
<br />
Jake pulls out the chair next to me, nods hello, and settles in, digging out some pens, highlighters, and a notebook. I blush furiously when I'm caught staring at his defined biceps from under the taut sleeve of his black tee-shirt. Oh, yeah, I'm warm now. <br />
<br />
The rest of the class passes by in a blur. I pretend to pay attention to Professor Banner as he drones on about the laboratory's do's and don't's, the lab report/paper due at the end of the semester, and the mandatory field trips to the forests and waterways around the Olympic Peninsula for specimen collection. I twiddle a pen between my fingers, imagining how I could "accidentally" drop it onto the floor; then Jake would bend down to pick it up for me at the same time I do, and we'd stare into each other's eyes with unbridled lust and want, and then... <br />
<br />
"... numbers?" <br />
<br />
I'm plucked from my daydream by the huskiness of Jake's voice. He's leaning toward me with a curious expression on his face. <br />
<br />
"Huh?" <br />
<br />
He laughs. "I said, 'Since we're partners, would it be okay if we exchanged numbers?'" <br />
<br />
I stare at him, processing this request, but then I glance down at the pen situated in his left hand... the same left hand that has a gold band on the third finger. Great. Mr. Hump-a-licious is married. Well, maybe it's better this way. God knows I can't handle any more love interests being hurt right now. <br />
<br />
Jake and I swap numbers, and then he walks me out to my truck. I ask him to join me for lunch at one of the few restaurants in Forks, but he barks out a sarcastic laugh. "Trust me, Bella, you don't want to eat at any of those places in town. Well, maybe the pizza place is tolerable, but I wouldn't attempt the food in any of the other shitholes. You're better off bringing your own lunch." <br />
<br />
I laugh and thank him for his concern about my immune system, tell him I'll swing by my place for a quick bite, and then meet him back here in an hour for our next class. <br />
<br />
The University of Washington's Olympic Natural Resource Center is a tiny campus on the outskirts of Forks, Washington. A long, winding road leads you to the top of the forest covered hill where the facilities are situated. It's a beautiful, modern campus, but I expected there to be more buildings, students, faculty, traffic... anything. Instead, there's one single-story building for academics and another for "dorms". I think my high school's gym would encompass both of these buildings. <br />
<br />
This is not what I had anticipated. <br />
<br />
Forks is not what I had anticipated. The town is so small that it doesn't have apartment complexes or condos to lease, so I had to resort to finding a privately-owned rental. My place is a small efficiency, created from a remodeled two-story home and came mostly furnished. I have a large window in the living room/bedroom space that allows plenty of light into my first floor apartment. Notice I didn't say "sunlight". There's not much of that here. The only view from the window is of the wooden privacy fence that lines the property on the west side of the house. There are a few shrubs against the perimeter and a tall pine tree off to the side. The space inside the window is the perfect place for Carrumba's cage. She'll enjoy watching the other birds. <br />
<br />
It's too fucking quiet in this town. I get lost in my head - my thoughts - which is never a good thing. I think about Edward and what he would say about living here. Would he like the small town life? Would he have been happy being surrounded with the dense forests and plethora of insects? And what about Riley? Would he have been content with the early closing times of all the businesses? He was such a night-owl, I don't know how he would have survived here without any nightlife, bars, or all-night diners. Part of me is not sure how I will make do, either. <br />
<br />
I realize now that I should have Googled that shit before I accepted my grad school offer in Washington. <br />
<br />
Needless to say, Renee did not take the news well. She cried, saying that Charlie and I were all she had left since the Masens died and she couldn't stand the thought that I'd leave her too. She kept making me feel extremely guilty for moving so far away, but I needed to escape, to make a drastic change in my life. I couldn't do it in Phoenix with the heart-wrenching memories of Edward and Riley all around me. I had to leave. <br />
<br />
Thankfully, Charlie agreed with my decision. He understood my need to change things. Although his haste to sell the Masens' house had caused a rift between us for a while, I knew it was something that needed to be done. But it didn't lessen the sting of having to part with it. I had to loosen my grasp on the physical items that were left behind when they died and focus on my future while still holding tight to their memories. There's no way I could keep their house if I was planning to start my life over in another part of the country. I boxed up most of Edward's things and packed them into my truck to bring with me. The rest of the house's furnishings were sold with the house. The day of the closing was the day I left Phoenix. It was time to close one door and open another. <br />
<br />
My dad practically demanded that he drive to Washington with me and fly home once I was settled into my apartment, but I didn't think I could have dealt with his less than optimal ability to handle any potential emotional breakdowns from me. Leaving my home, driving thousands of miles away to live all by myself was not something that I was really ready for, regardless of my stubborn insistence that I could handle it. Thankfully, Angela volunteered to ride with me. We convinced Charlie that it would be a girl's road trip and we'd be squeeing and gossiping the whole way, and he finally agreed to let Angela take his place as long as she allowed him and Renee to buy her an airplane ticket home. <br />
<br />
It took us three and a half days of driving in that old truck to reach Forks. <br />
<br />
To say it was utter culture shock as we arrived in town would be an understatement. The trip up the 101 was scenic and very relaxing, but we both expected a larger community than the one that greeted us: logging trucks, mom-n-pop shops, and only one traffic light. A large, cheery 'Welcome to Forks' sign was posted directly across the two-laned highway from a sketchy landing strip. Angela's eyes widened, and she shrieked, "Oh, shit! Charlie didn't book a flight to Phoenix from here, did he? There's elk on the runway!" <br />
<br />
"No, calm down." I laughed. "You leave from Sea-Tac." <br />
<br />
Relieved, Angela grabbed the directions from the benchseat between us and navigated us to my new home. We unloaded the truck, and Angela unpacked some of my boxes while I ran up to the Thriftway grocery/hardware store in town to grab some food for the week. <br />
<br />
We cried off and on for the next thirty-six hours, sad to be separated by so many miles, heart-broken at the circumstances that led to this situation, and anxious of our unknown futures. I didn't want her to go, but I didn't need her to stay; I needed to do this. <br />
<br />
Angela left a few days ago to fly back home to Phoenix, and I cried the whole way to and from the airport. <br />
<br />
Now, I truly am alone. I've only been here for a week, but I already miss Phoenix. <br />
<br />
After I make a quick lunch at my place, I scramble into my truck and head back toward campus. <br />
<br />
Jake is sitting on a bench under the patio overhang when I pull up into the Center's parking lot. We chat for a few minutes before heading to our second class together. There are only two Colleges within the univeristy that are situated at the Center: the College of Forest Resources and College of Ocean and Fishery Sciences. My program is housed in the former; Jake's, the latter. He and I have several core courses that we share, but the specialized classes are separate. <br />
<br />
"I hope you took my advice and stayed away from those gourmet gastropubs in town," he yells across the lot. I nod, smiling, and hoist my backpack up higher on my shoulder. "Good. I don't want to deal with a lab partner who's moaning and groaning all afternoon from pains of dysentery." <br />
<br />
I laugh and we make small talk as we enter a new classroom in the academics building. He tells me he's lived here all of his life, and being from a small fishing village on the La Push Reservation, he wanted to pursue marine conservation and industries for his native people. When he asks why I chose the forest program, I just tell him that I always had a special place in my heart for nature. I know my explanation is vague, and he quirks an eyebrow at me, silently urging me to tell him more, but I don't want to explain Edward and reopen those wounds right now. <br />
<br />
I started seeing a therapist a few months after I began my freshman year at UA. I only saw her a few times and was discharged from her care until the incident with Riley. I started seeing her again, but she forced me to revisit that dark time in my life after Edward died, and after four sessions I refused to go back. I'm better off forcing those memories from my mind and pushing forward with my life. <br />
<br />
For the next several weeks, I focus on my studies and quickly learning that Jake was right when it came to the culinary life of Forks. He introduces me to his wife, Leah, when she drops him off at the coffee house to go over our lab reports before class. His car is broken down, and Leah needs the car to go to work. She's a hotel manager in Port Angeles. <br />
<br />
"Bella, it's nice to meet you. I've heard so much about you." Her smile appears genuine as she extends her hand through the driver's side window to shake mine. <br />
<br />
I smile and tell her the same and that I feel like I've known her all my life. We both glance over at Jake - who looks a bit sheepish - as he climbs out of the passenger seat. <br />
<br />
"What can I say? I love my wife... and my friends." <br />
<br />
Leah and I "aww" simultaneously and then laugh when Jake begins to blush. <br />
<br />
A week before midterms, Leah, Jake, and Leah's friend, Rebecca, invite me to join them on a day trip to Port Townsend's Annual Fall Festival. Since I haven't taken any trips to the area yet, I figure it would be a great opportunity to get a lay of the land. Besides, I've been so bogged down with studying and writing lab reports that I can definitely use a day of mind-numbing sightseeing. <br />
<br />
They pick me up at my apartment and we set off north on the 101. In the past three months, I've only been as far north as Sappho and south toward the Hoh Rainforest for specimen collection. The Olympic mountains aren't easily seen from Forks, but further up the highway, their snow-covered peaks rise from the landscape and stand regally as the backdrop to the terrain of the Pacific Northwest. <br />
<br />
About an hour into our drive, we arrive at a beautiful lake. Small waterfalls trickle from the hills along the road side as the asphalt snakes along the southern edge of the lake, right along the waterline. I practically beg for Jake to pull over onto the shoulder so I can take some pictures. Rebecca points out a small viewing area up ahead, and we stop and climb out of the car, cameras in hand. <br />
<br />
Rebecca lives in Florida and has never been to the area to visit Leah and her new husband. At least I'm not the only one who looks like a tourist, snapping pictures left and right. She and I rush toward a rocky outcrop near the far end of the parking area and climb through the small grouping of trees that hang over the lake. <br />
<br />
The water of the lake is fairly clear, and I'm amazed at the beauty of the mountains jutting right out from it. We capture several pictures of the scenery and Jake asks another couple who has stopped to admire the view to take a few pictures of the four of us. Finally, we climb back into the car and continue our trek north. <br />
<br />
We stop in Port Angeles to drop off something at Leah's hotel, and then we are headed east toward Seattle. Jake pulls off at a roadside diner with a giant statue of a bear and a logger in the parking lot. <br />
<br />
"You'll love this place, Bella," Jake says, as he winks at me over Leah's head. <br />
<br />
"Welcome to Smitty's! Sit your butts down here," the middle-aged waitress barks with a smile, pointing to the counter seats. <br />
<br />
We plop down on the barstools and glance around the restaurant, mouths gaped and eyes wide. There's so much shit on the walls. And when I say 'shit', I mean dollar bills, pictures, knick knacks... it's a decorator's worst nightmare! It's kind of cool, actually. Jake proceeds to tell us about stopping here while with his family on trips to Seattle. He orders four combos and we each give our drink request and return to reading the thousands of dollar bills and notes littering the walls and ceiling. <br />
<br />
"Look! This one says 1972!" <br />
<br />
"Oh my God! Bill Clinton ate here! Look at this picture!" <br />
<br />
"Here! Let's put one up!" Leah digs out a dollar bill from her purse and we each take turns signing our names and Jake completes it with the date of our visit. He climbs on the barstool and stands above the counter to tack it to the ceiling. <br />
<br />
We devour our gigantic burgers and head back out toward Port Townsend. The Fall Festival is packed with vendors and patrons. The overcast sky builds up to heavy thunder clouds and suddenly we are being pelted with large rain drops. We make a mad dash toward the car, but as we reach the vehicle - parked at the edge of the nearby woods - I get that creepy, unsettling feeling again. I haven't had that sensation since the night Riley died. Almost as fast as I feel it, it's gone. I quickly brush off the thoughts of Riley and settle into my seat, joining in the loud chorus of singing to the songs from Leah's iPod. <br />
<br />
Jake and Leah meet up with me a few times outside of school for coffee and once for dinner at 'Chateau de Swan', as Jake likes to call my place. Most of my time since the fall festival has been focused on school and our research project. My parents fly up the week of Thanksgiving and stay at one of the local motels. Renee insists on taking me out for dinner one evening, but I refuse and butter her up by telling her how much I miss cooking with her. Of course, she knows this is total bullshit since I hate watching her sample everything we make while we're in the kitchen. <br />
<br />
The second week of December, Jake and I schedule several study times at the Forks Public Library, to make final revisions of our joint term research paper. I meet him at a table near the far corner of the library, books and papers strewn about the flat surface. <br />
<br />
"Jake! You started without me?" <br />
<br />
He smiles and shakes his head as he rummages through his backpack. "No, I'm trying to find that map of the Elwah River - where we took that sample of sediment." <br />
<br />
I plop my bag down on the table and search through my papers, grumbling when I can't find my copy of the map either. After several moments of rooting through my bag, I wave a paper in the air and present it to Jake, smiling broadly at my find. "Found it!" <br />
<br />
He snatches it from my grasp and the map tears right down the middle of our specimen collection site. "Ah, shit! Sorry, Bella." <br />
<br />
"That's okay, Jake. I'll just go to the circulation desk and request another copy. This is where I got it from anyway. You just work on calculating the results from the water samples while I'm getting the map, alright? We've got to get that shit done today." <br />
<br />
He nods and turns his eyes back down to his notes, scribbling figures in the column of the page. <br />
<br />
I glance at the map in my hand as I walk up to the circlulation desk. The paper is ripped nearly in two, but could easily be fixed with some clear tape, but I'd rather not submit a torn topographical map with my research paper. I want this to look professional, not like I'm back in my undergrad classes again. <br />
<br />
As I round the corner made by the shelves of sci-fi books, I spot something that stops me dead in my tracks. A man about my age - maybe younger - is sitting at a table near the DVD rentals. He's facing away from me and his clothes are non-descript, but that's not what halts my feet from moving forward. It's his hair. <br />
<br />
I immediately blow it off as a coincidence. Many people have auburn hair, Bella, I tell myself. Many people have crazy bed-head hair, too. He seems to be casually glancing through a magazine, not really paying attention to the articles. A gorgeous blond man is sitting next to him, looking bored out of his mind. He's not reading any books or magazines, but his eyes are boring holes into the man with the auburn hair. <br />
<br />
I turn my attention back to the librarian at the desk and request a new copy of the particular map in my hand. She takes my torn paper and disappears into the back office. As I'm waiting, I chance a glance behind me toward the man. His friend is staring at me with a confused look on his face, but the man with aurburn hair is just turning back toward the front windows. In that split second as he's turning away from me, I recognize his profile.<br />
<br />
<br />
I've got to be delusional. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Staring at the back of his head, I try to convince myself that this man has lived in Forks all his life, that he's never been to Phoenix, never grew up with a girl named Bella, never died at the hands of a rabid animal on a camping trip with his family. But there's something that's gnawing at me, clawing its nails through my head and my heart to verify that it's not him. It's not possible! Why am I torturing myself? But as I tilt my head a little to the left, I can see a portion of his profile and I know without a doubt that it's him. <br />
<br />
I've got to be delusional, I repeat. <br />
<br />
My heart tells my legs to run to him, wrap my arms around his neck, and kiss him desperately, but my feet stay cemented to the floor. <br />
<br />
It's him, I know it is, I tell myself. But how? Why? This can't be real. I must be fucking dreaming. He's the same, but he's not. Different. His skin is very pale and his posture is rigid. He's barely moving, barely breathing, and I'm wondering if he's holding his breath. <br />
<br />
I've got to be delusional. <br />
<br />
He raises a cell phone to his ear, mumbling quietly into the phone. His voice is so low that I can't hear it, and he runs his hand through his hair. His wrist...! <br />
<br />
It is him! But why? <br />
<br />
The blond next to him whips his head to look at me and glares. The magazine drops loudly onto the table and they stand to leave. <br />
<br />
My body is frozen in place, my brain not able to process what I'm seeing. How is he...? Where did he...? <br />
<br />
They move toward the exit but they must pass the circulation desk - and me - on their way out. His face is trained to the floor as they approach me, so I reach out a shaky hand to gain his attention. I need to touch him, feel him, to know he's really here -alive- and not a ghost. <br />
<br />
"Excuse me," he mutters, glancing up at me and trying to skirt around my trembling hand. <br />
<br />
That's his voice! I'd know it anywhere! <br />
<br />
I feel like my body is going to crumble, my knees are wobbly and I grasp onto the counter next to me for purchase. A sob is fighting to escape my throat, but I'm not sure there is air in my lungs to release it. <br />
<br />
Tears form and tumble from my eyes as my suspicion is confirmed - that's the unforgettable face of the boy I've loved my entire life. <br />
<br />
"Edward?"SweetVenom69http://www.blogger.com/profile/16891131791448534680noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2259876397494509092.post-13910691977366109732010-06-24T20:53:00.002-04:002010-09-16T14:22:31.305-04:00Chapter 11<div style="text-align: left;">Playlist selection: Ain't No Rest For the Wicked - by Cage the Elephant</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
<br />
Victoria POV </div><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">Mmmm, God, I can still taste that little twerp's blood on my lips. My throat flares again at the thought of my first taste of human blood in nearly three years. How did I ever think I could give it up? </div><br />
I dodge another cluster of pine trees somewhere in the dense forests of northern California and cringe from the sudden earthy scent of a herd of elk. How could anyone find that stench appetizing? I don't have a clue, and I don't give a shit anymore; that lifestyle is not for me. Trying to keep from making any planned decisions - not wanting to be followed - I run until I feel the need to stop and drink. <br />
<br />
Hurdling over a mountain stream, I pick up speed, getting as far south as I can before I have to kill again. I know I shouldn't have plucked that skinny little fucker from the gas station while he was filling up his car, but the urge to feed on real blood - human blood - was overwhelming. One second he was setting the latch on the gas nozzle, and the next, I was carrying him like a damn football under my arm to a dark spot behind a nearby dumpster. I gotta admit, the dumpster came in handy. Snatch body, drink body, and dump body. Simple as that. <br />
<br />
It's just before midnight when I arrive someplace outside of Fresno and snag some trashed sorority chick heading toward a parking lot. I approach her swiftly, flinging her into her car the moment she manages to open the door, and drain her instantly. Her blood is sweet, probably a combination of the fruity mixers and alcohol. Once she's cold and limp, I shove her into the passenger seat and rip the keys from her hand. Taking a few side streets, I manage to find a fairly long stretch of dark, unoccupied road and pull her body over to the driver's side and wedge her lifeless foot on the accelerator. I hop out of the car and watch with rapt attention as it careens down the desolate road. It picks up speed until it hits a dip in the asphalt, veers off the road, hits several trees, and flips over into a ravine, exploding on impact. <br />
<br />
Fuck yeah! That was awesome! <br />
<br />
Exhilarated by the recent feed and the fantastic grande finale, I continue my journey and sprint southeast. Crossing into Nevada, the moon is bright in the desert, and my skin glows a bright white. It's a strange sight for human eyes to witness a practically illuminating creature darting across the rocky terrain. There's not much cover, and I don't want to hide out in Vegas until night fall again, so I decide to push further east. <br />
<br />
Just as the sun begins to rise in the sky, I make it to Phoenix. I make a stop at a shopping mall, not by choice, but by necessity. My clothes are tattered from catching on the foliage, and I need a place to quench my thirst. After I've changed my clothes and fed on a delicious little old man in the parking garage, I continue on my travels toward Texas. <br />
<br />
It's a little after noon when I zip through the mountain area east of the city. Deer, elk, bear, wild boar, and a few other musky scents fill my lungs, but nothing stirs up my appetite like the sight before me. A human male, hiking alone in the forest, talking into a short range radio. He's got a nice body, wicked hair, and his voice is seductive even as he's yelling into the receiver. Hot damn. <br />
<br />
I leap into a tree and watch as he climbs through the underbrush, steps over logs, and then stops along the perimeter of a small meadow. His radio startles two deer and he curses as they scamper away into the forest. The wind changes and his scent carries up to the canopy. Oh, God, it's divine. Venom floods my mouth, but I swallow it down, not wanting to feed on this sexy creature. I grip the trunk of the tree tighter as he enters into the small pasture and palms himself while he stares at some rocks. His heart rate picks up and the bulge in his pants thickens. Mmm... is my big boy an exhibitionist? He's a little kinky, gorgeous, and sexy as hell. He's perfect. <br />
<br />
He turns and heads down the hill, and I watch him disappear into the forest. I sit among the tree tops for hours... contemplating, planning, scheming. Could I handle a newborn vampire? Yes, I think so. Could I sink my teeth into his tender flesh and not drain his body of all its blood? Maybe. I've never changed anyone before. Could I just run the other way and never look back? No... He's just too perfect for me. <br />
<br />
With a tentative plan in my head, I head north to a tiny podunk town and devour the first poor, lonely fucker I can find. I burst through his back door and pounce onto his lap before he even registers any movement. I smile brightly at his confused face, teasing him about the network news channel he's watching, and then latch my teeth to his neck and gulp. He doesn't have time to make a sound. <br />
<br />
After my meal, I head back to the woods, capture my darling boy's scent, and follow it to a small cabin. There are three distinct heartbeats inside, and I wonder if there are a few more young men, like him, in there. I'm sure I could dazzle them into a fantastic orgy. God, it's been years since I've seduced a human... and never three at one time. <br />
<br />
Unfortunately, through my eavesdropping, I discover that he's here with his parents, and so I perch in a nearby tree, waiting until the whole family goes to bed. I haven't made any decisions on what I plan to do. Change him? Or not change him? Kill him? Or not kill him? Finally frustrated with indecision, I hop off the branch, landing softly on the ground, and assess the property: there's a black minivan parked along the side of the cabin, a book and a hammock tucked under a tall pine tree, and a couple of fishing poles leaning against the front porch railing. I try the handle on the door - not that that would keep me out - but I'm surprise to find it unlocked. <br />
<br />
Inside, the delicious aroma of the three occupants infiltrates my nose and the venom rushes into my mouth, forcing me to swallow several times. I find the parents' bedroom first, their bodies cuddled against one another. As I turn down the hall toward the boy's room, I detect a slightly sweet scent wafting from inside his room. It's not strong enough to indicate another person is with him, but it's noticeable enough that there must be a lot of items carrying the smell with it. Inside, I find my sweetheart sleeping, snuggling his pillow. Yes, the sugary scent is very strong in this room and all around him. It's definitely human. <br />
<br />
I lean over my darling's sleeping form, run my fingers gently through his hair, and whisper, "Oh, so lovely." I know instantly that I will change him... for me. He will be mine. <br />
<br />
He moves his head toward me slightly and I get a better glimpse of his beautiful face. "Whaddya say, handsome? Wanna come home with me?" I giggle at his unconscious, confused expression. <br />
<br />
"Who are you?" he mumbles. <br />
<br />
"Me? Well, I'm your creator, sweetness, and you'll be my mate." <br />
<br />
"You...absurd. Bella is...mine...nothing you can do...married...couple weeks." He's fucking adorable, arguing with me in his sleep. And who the fuck is this Bella?! <br />
<br />
"You're wrong, baby," I coo, trailing my finger down his neck and chest, hooking into the waistband of his shorts, and pulling him against my body. "You belong to me." <br />
<br />
It's now or never, Victoria, I tell myself. I panic for a brief second, unsure whether I have the willpower to not drain him completely. Then a thought hits me. <br />
<br />
Yes! Perfect! <br />
<br />
I bolt into the parents' room and pounce onto the bed, exhilarated by my strike of brilliance. I laugh maniacally as the adults shriek in surprise, horror, pain... fuck, I don't really care why they scream. I need to satisfy my thirst immediately before I attempt to transform my precious boy. I tear savagely into the neck of one of them, gulping against the pulsing arteries. My nails slice through the flesh of the other, simultaneously, desperately needing more blood to quelch my frenzy. <br />
<br />
Once my body feels sloshy from all the blood and my hunting instincts have calmed, I stand and turn toward the dresser, glancing at myself in the mirror. Gah! I'm a damned mess! I straighten my shirt and wipe the blood off my face with a blanket from the bed. <br />
<br />
I can hear my sweet one's heartbeat getting louder and faster as he's walking closer to the room. Swinging open the door, I meet him in the hallway and grab him by the throat. "Where do you think you're going?" <br />
<br />
He wrestles against my grip, but I hold him tightly enough to keep him from struggling. "Wha-Wh-..." <br />
<br />
"Shh... No questions yet, darling. There will be plenty of time for that later." I smile gently at him, trying not to scare him too much - not that it would really matter. He grips onto the doorjamb as we make it into his room, wiggling and thrashing to get out of my grasp. I let go of him, but his feet manage to lose ground and he nearly falls to the floor. At vampire speed, I catch him in my arms. <br />
<br />
"I wouldn't let you fall, hon. I won't let anything hurt you... for all eternity," I chuckle to myself. He scrambles to get away from me, but I pull him closer and the scent of his blood is almost overwhelming. Almost as much as my desire for him. Frustrated with my warring emotions, I growl and toss him onto his bed and climb on top to sit on his thighs. He claws at me, trying to push me off of him, smacking at my hands. "Don't try to fight me, sugar. You will only hurt yourself." I gather his wrists in one hand and raise them above his head on the pillow. Leaning down, I take one long, tortuous whiff of this glorious human male before he's forever changed... for me. I place a few light kisses against his lips, reveling in the warmth and softness of them - committing them to memory. God, he feels so good under me. <br />
<br />
He wrenches his face away from mine, and I sit up, annoyed. "I told you not to fight me, boy." I scoot down further to cup his cock in my hand and snarl, "I'll take what's mine, if you won't give it up willingly. You'll end up like your parents if you can't behave." <br />
<br />
"MOOOOOM!! DAAAAAD!!" he screams. <br />
<br />
"Don't waste your breath. They were collateral damage." I shrug. "Well, actually, they were kind of like my appetizer... so I wouldn't kill you, baby." <br />
<br />
"Who the fuck are you?" he roars, struggling under my grasp. <br />
<br />
"I told you who I am, but you don't have to worry about any specifics for a few days, sweetpea." I grind myself against him, excited about the incredible pleasure he'll give me once he's transformed. "You'll be my mate, and we will have all the time in the world for talking and, uhh, other things." <br />
<br />
"What are you?" he croaks, tears forming in his beautiful eyes. <br />
<br />
I lean toward his ear and whisper seductively, "I'm a vampire, baby, but you can call me Victoria." <br />
<br />
His face and eyes snap to mine, gauging if I'm telling him the truth. Yes, I am, my lovely. "What's your name, handsome?" <br />
<br />
"E-Ed-Edward." <br />
<br />
"Hmmm, I like it, Edward." I stare into his eyes and blow the air from my lungs across his face. His features relax slightly and I smile at the ease to dazzle humans. They are so fucking weak. "So... We are going to play a little game, Edward. Do you like games?" <br />
<br />
His unfocused eyes shift and he quietly whispers, "Yes." <br />
<br />
"Good! Let's start with I Spy. Did you like to play I Spy when you were little?" <br />
<br />
"Yes." <br />
<br />
"Hmmm, me too. I'll go first." He nods his head. "I spy something... blue." His eyes glance around the room and he calls out various items: a shirt, a blanket, a picture on the wall. "No, those aren't it. Let's try again. I spy something blue and... delicious." He looks up at me in confusion and shrugs his shoulders. <br />
<br />
"I don't know, Victoria." Mmmm, the sound of his voice saying my name has me all kinds of horny and the venom flowing. <br />
<br />
"Wanna know what it is?" He nods his head yes, staring blankly into my eyes. "It's this vein, right... here..." and I sink my teeth into his flesh, infiltrating the venom into his body. I automatically take two huge pulls of blood, but I yank my head away from him quickly and hold my breath, trying to reign in my urge to feed. Once I control myself, I lick the wound to seal it. I sit up and take a moment to savor his delicious taste. <br />
<br />
Now, I wait. <br />
<br />
I sit beside him on the bed for hours, listening to him scream, beg for someone to help him, and cry from the pain. He keeps yelling for this Bella person -- calling out her name, telling her that he loves her -- and I'm getting pissed. He will love no one but me. I am his maker, and I will make him love me. <br />
<br />
By his second day of transition, his wails have quieted. His breathing is rapid, and I watch as his legs and arms convulse from the venom destroying his living cells. I'm making this man into an immortal creature, giving him eternal life. It may be sadistic, but it's a beautiful thing to behold. <br />
<br />
At the end of the day, I get the overwhelming sense of possible danger. Someone is tracking me, hunting me. I need to protect my soon-to-be mate, but I'm not one for confrontation. I'd rather not lure any nomads near my human, so I have to leave. Now. <br />
<br />
Kissing Edward on the forehead, I whisper, "I'll be back very soon, my lovely." I tear through the cabin and escape through the patio door in the parents' room. Heading further into the mountains, I run in random directions, trying to evade the tracker. I arrive in a small town and take refuge in an all-night diner for a few hours. I need to get back to Edward before he wakes up. <br />
<br />
By the time the sun starts to rise again, I zig zag through the forest as I sprint back toward the cabin. There's no scent of a nomad anywhere along the way. I slow to a walk as I approach the property, happy that I've successfully deflected the hunter when I notice something missing. <br />
<br />
I can't hear Edward's heartbeat. <br />
<br />
I should be able to still hear his blood pumping through his veins from several yards away, but I only hear the air whooshing through the trees. Is his transition complete already? I smile at the thought. "Edward!" I call, practically skipping up the front porch steps. "EDWARD!" <br />
<br />
And that's when I smell them... "Fucking CULLENS!!" <br />
<br />
~*~*~*~*~*~*~ <br />
<br />
After the Cullens kidnapped my mate, I tried to track them by scent, but I'm not very good at it; I lost the trail by the next day. I returned to the cabin to contemplate my next plan to search for them, but found it completely surrounded by the police and one very familiar scent. One that made venom flood my mouth and my muscles tense to attack. I watched from my perch on a nearby branch as this little bitch stumbled in Edward's room, rummaged through his belongings, and then packed them into their vehicle. <br />
<br />
Oh, hell no. That's my man's stuff. <br />
<br />
For half a second, I contemplated annihilating the entire law enforcement crew at the scene, including the little cunt who was crying her eyes out in the backseat of a truck, but then I got this kickass idea. If I followed that little twit -- Bella I assumed -- she could have eventually led me to Edward. He may have wanted to go back to find her, even if he couldn't be close to her yet. He would, though, in time. The fucking Cullens would see to it that he lived and thrived around humans without feeding on them. Damn them and their unnatural willpower. <br />
<br />
I followed them down the mountain, and then as they headed out on the highway. Wanting to get a better look at this little bitch, I threw a tree limb in the truck's path. I watched as she argued with the guy and then climbed on some rocks near the tree line. God, I could have snatched her up and drained her skinny ass, but that would have defeated my purpose. I needed live bait to lure Edward back to me. <br />
<br />
I chased their truck back to the suburbs of Phoenix and located the quaint house easily, and considered it my base camp. <br />
<br />
So, now I've been monitoring this little tart, off and on, for nearly four years. Wanting to keep inconspicuous, I roam all over the Southwest and check in on Bella from time to time. <br />
<br />
I watch as she travels to and from college and from her little, piddly job at a cafe. I take note of her friends and her family living in the houses next door. And I notice that little pissant, Riley, as he starts to covet her. Their little friendship blossoms into a sweet romance over several months, and due to my peeping, I witness more that I care to see. <br />
<br />
A part of me is happy as hell that she's finally over my darling Edward, but I see that she still cries from time to time. She never takes off that damn necklace or ring. That's got to annoy the shit out of Riley. But the other part of me is angry that apparently she and Edward had a special relationship. He wanted to marry her. No! He's mine!, I snarl to myself. Finders keepers, bitch! <br />
<br />
But after a while, I notice someone else - someone vying for Miss Swan's attention. He's got a beautiful body, sandy blond hair, and a deviantly sexy smile. But he doesn't have the goo-goo eyes for that little cunt. No... no he's sickly obsessed. I notice him stalking her at work and at school. He tracks down her address and drives past her house several times a week. Sometimes he sits at the end of the street and watches her out in the garden, then goes to the other side of town and picks up a prostitute. He doesn't settle for a quickie blow job in the car either. No, James -or Jay as he likes to be called- is a sadistic fucker. He beats and rapes the whores, then kicks them to the curb, cursing at them as if they were Bella. <br />
<br />
"Shut the fuck up, Bella! You know you want this, so quit teasing me!" he'd yell as he held their arms behind their backs, bending them over a dirty garbage can in an alley and fucking them. The hookers would cry, begging for James to release them. He'd slap them hard and shove them to the ground. "That's what you get for stringing me along, bitch." <br />
<br />
God, he'd make a wicked vampire. That gives me an idea... <br />
<br />
I'm tired of waiting for Edward to return to Phoenix to find Bella; it's been four years already. The fucking Cullens probably have him on restriction or some bullshit. Maybe he never loved her enough to come back for her and has left his previous life behind completely. Ha! That would be a sweet surprise. Regardless, finding Edward is my priority, so I proceed with my plan. <br />
<br />
I follow James. <br />
<br />
One night, he tracks Bella and her friend to a night club. He watches Bella sipping a cocktail and swaying her body on the dance floor. Tensing his body every time a man gets too close to her, he finally decides to approach her, and wraps his arm around her gyrating hips. She rudely turns him down, and I smirk to myself as his face goes from blissed to pissed in a second. Bad move, you stupid twat. <br />
<br />
Quickly, Bella and her friend leave the dance floor and scramble to the safety of the booth with their other friends. James is fucking livid, and it's a riot to watch as his nostrils flare and his gaze locks onto Bella as she scampers away. Oh, this will be so much fun! <br />
<br />
I hear one of the male friends in the booth ask Bella where Riley is, and she says he's at home. Hmmm... I do need to be fed before I approach James, I think to myself. Without a second thought, I slide out of the emergency door and dart to Riley's apartment. <br />
<br />
I've been to the complex before, having followed Bella's scent there several times. I breeze up to the third floor apartment and knock gently on the door. A moment later, I hear his feet shuffling across the floor and then the door cracks open. <br />
<br />
"Can I help you?" he asks, his voice raspy. <br />
<br />
"Yes, you can, Riley," I reply sweetly before jutting my arm out and grasping his neck tightly with my hand. He grunts and struggles to breathe as I push my way inside, his feet trying to find purchase on the floor. "You're cute." <br />
<br />
He doesn't reply, but instead, he claws at my arms, trying to get me to release him. Fat chance, buttercup. I glance down at his body, noticing the quickly fading erection from inside his boxers. The television flickers and my attention is drawn to the image of two women in a rather compromising position. <br />
<br />
"Oh, you are a dirty boy, aren't you?" I smirk, nodding to the flat screen on the wall. Again he doesn't reply, but I decide to tease him. "So, you like to watch porn, huh? I like that, Riley. I like a man who's a bit freaky. Does your darling Bella get freaky with you? She likes to suck your cock, doesn't she? I bet that little tart's not any good at it." He stares at me, still struggling to breathe. I toss him onto the sofa and rip his shorts from his body. <br />
<br />
"No, please! Stop!" he begs, his eyes wide in fear and his heart pounding. <br />
<br />
"Why would I stop, now? I thought we were having fun?" I poke my bottom lip out into a mock pout. <br />
<br />
"Please! Just don't hurt me!" he pleads again, his entire body trembling. <br />
<br />
"I promise you, Riley... You won't feel a thing." <br />
<br />
I pounce on him like as a mountain lion would a hare and gorge myself on the blood spewing from his carotid. When he's completely drained, I drop his lifeless body down onto the bed, leaving him naked and exposed for the cops to find him. <br />
<br />
I return to the club, easily finding Bella and her friends still in their booth. James is hiding out in the corner across the bar, pounding a beer, his hollow eyes staring angrily at Bella. I decide to go in for the, err, kill. Ha! <br />
<br />
"Excuse me, is this seat taken?" I say, sliding out the barstool next to him. He doesn't reply, but shakes his head 'no'. I sit quietly for a few moments, pretending to sip on a beer. Finally, I lean closer to James, whispering how badly I want to dance with him. My breath fans across his face, and I smile as his eyes begin to glaze over. He finishes his drink, grabs my hand, and leads me to the dance floor. He doesn't flinch at the hardness and temperature of my skin, so I know he's either half blitzed or barely registering me because of his obsession with Bella. Personally, I hope it's the latter. It will make this game a lot more fun. <br />
<br />
We plant ourselves in the center of the dance floor and I shamelessly position my ass right up against the front of his pants and run my hands up into his hair. I turn my face toward his and smile to myself as I catch his eyes glaring in the direction of the little bitch and her friends. Then he growls. <br />
<br />
"What's the problem, sugar? Someone stole your girl?" I coo, lightly skimming my fingers down his cheek. <br />
<br />
"No." <br />
<br />
"No?" <br />
<br />
James spun me around and snarled, "She's not my girl." <br />
<br />
"Oh! I see some fire in those eyes of yours. You want her badly." He doesn't say anything, but instead he wraps his arm around my waist and grinds his manhood against me. "Maybe I can help you out." <br />
<br />
"Whatever. I don't give a shit anymore." He leans his face down and kisses my neck, trying to convince himself, and me, that he doesn't want her. I'm not an idiot. <br />
<br />
"I don't believe you." He scoffs, but I continue. "What if I said I knew how to get the woman you want?" He squeezes me tighter and I can see his eyes flicker up to where Bella is sitting. <br />
<br />
"Well, I'm dancing with you, aren't I? What if I'm already over her?" <br />
<br />
I chuckle. "We'll see about that, baby." I release my breath across his face again, entrancing him with my vampy-powers. "Why don't we go back to your place and we can figure out how to win your girlfriend back?" <br />
<br />
He glances toward that little cunt again and then back to me. "How about I take you back to my place and fuck you until I can't remember her name?" <br />
<br />
"Mmm, now you're speaking my language, sugar. Let's go." <br />
<br />
I hook my finger through his belt loop as he leads me through the crowded bar and toward the exit. The throngs of tasty, sweaty humans packed around me makes it difficult to keep my control, but I swallow several times to keep the venom from pooling in my mouth. I could gorge myself in here - I probably should. Hopefully, the blood from that little scrawny assed kid, Riley, will be enough to keep me from killing him. Maybe Jay and I will do that once he's transformed. He looks like he'll be a fucking handful to tame, but I know I can handle it. I'll keep him occupied, I giggle to myself. Just need to figure a way to ditch him once we find Edward. <br />
<br />
We arrive at his tiny apartment a short distance from the night club. The air is stale and there is the distinct, musky odor of sweat, spoiled food, and dried beer. Typical bachelor pad. He offers me a beer as he glances in the empty fridge. I decline, of course. He waves his hand toward the living room, encouraging me to take a seat. I slowly make my way toward the oversized bean bag chair near the window, giving him the dingy loveseat. As I make myself to appear comfortable, he watches me intently, a calculating stare on his face. I pretend to be oblivious to his wicked scheming. I've watched him in action with the whores, so I know what he's contemplating. <br />
<br />
After a couple of minutes, he mumbles, "I'm tired of this coy bullshit." A human wouldn't have been able to hear him from my spot, but it was loud and clear to my vampire ears. James stands up quickly from the couch and places his beer on the coffee table. He steps around to stand in front of me, his muscles flexing and tensing in anticipation. I look up into his eyes with my most innocent, doe-eyed expression. <br />
<br />
"So, are you going to help me forget that girl, or not?" <br />
<br />
"Oh, of course." I look up into his eyes and mentally jump up and down in excitement at the hidden wickedness behind them. Yes, he will be a force to be reckoned with as a vampire. I smile and reach out to unbutton his jeans and slide the zipper down. His groin is eye level with me sitting on the bean bag, so I sit up straight and pull his jeans and boxers down just below his hips. He hisses as my cold hands grasp his erection, but in a flash, I wrap my lips around him and lift my eyes to look at his face. <br />
<br />
"Ah, shit! So good..." he whispers, placing a hand on the back of my head, guiding me. <br />
<br />
I let him build up speed, fucking my mouth harder and deeper with each thrust, until his cock is so fully engorged with blood that I can't control my urge to kill much longer. At vampire speed, I grab his hips and fling him down onto the floor. I straddle his body and stifle a laugh at his confused expression. <br />
<br />
"What the-?" <br />
<br />
"I want to be riding you when you cum, baby, not sucking you off." This seems to take a second too long for him to process, and he just looks at me like I've just spoken a foreign language. I hike up my dress further and position him at my entrance and revel in the warmth of his body sliding into my cold one. <br />
<br />
"Oh, fuck..." <br />
<br />
"That's right, fuck me." He seems to come back to his senses and we begin to move together - him gripping my breasts and me reclining back with my hands above his knees. I grind my body hard into him until his heart rate and breaths are erratic and his body clenches in ecstasy. <br />
<br />
"Jesus, woman, you are incredible." <br />
<br />
"You have no idea the things my body can do, baby." <br />
<br />
"Don't call me 'baby'. My name is James, or Jay." <br />
<br />
"Okay, I like James," I say as I lean forward to bring my lips to hover above his. "How about we switch things up a little bit?" <br />
<br />
He furrows his brows and asks, "What do you mean?" <br />
<br />
"Have you ever played I Spy?" <br />
<br />
*~*~*~**~*~ <br />
<br />
It's been nearly six months since James' transformation. When he woke up, he was confused, but seemed to accept his new 'life'. He felt it suited him, and I had to agree. We hung around Phoenix for a few weeks until his family started posting notices about his disappearance. I took him to Texas, and introduced him to an old friend, Maria. She's been able to help him balance his new strengths and urges - he's pretty unruly at times, and especially careless with his dining selections. I take a couple of side trips back to Arizona to keep an eye on Bella, but as James is calming and able to control his instincts, I spend more time with them in Texas. Not like that little bitch is going anywhere anytime soon. <br />
<br />
James, Maria, and I travel around the southern Midwest for a few more months, working on James' tracking skills and interacting with humans. Once he has proven his ability to hone in on a specific scent over long ranges, he and I return to Phoenix one evening for two purposes: one, so he can have his fun with his little tart, and two, so he can start to track my Edward. But that's where we run into a problem... his tart is gone. <br />
<center></center>SweetVenom69http://www.blogger.com/profile/16891131791448534680noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2259876397494509092.post-88044867602051807992010-06-12T15:18:00.002-04:002010-09-16T14:22:31.306-04:00Chapter 10Playlist selection: Nothing Compares (To You) - by Sinead O'Connor<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Bella POV</div><br />
<br />
Three weeks after the memorial service - post Hell day number forty-five - Charlie tells us that the Apache County Sheriff's Department has finally closed the case on the Masens and ruled all of their deaths an 'accidental homicide by animal'. Accidental, my ass. He notifies the Phoenix police department and they organize a proper service for Ed, complete with a gun salute and folded flag for Renee and Charlie to bring home. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
They've never recovered Edward's body - thank God the finger wasn't his - but since his blood was found at the scene, and there were only fragments left of Liz and Ed's corpses, they assumed Edward's body had been taken by the animal, too.<br />
<br />
The Masens didn't have much family. Liz had a cousin in Iowa, but she was never close to her. Ed was adopted as a child, and after he revolted during his teenage years, he didn't keep in touch with his family. Other than a few casual friends, my parents were the only thing Liz and Ed had for family. That's apparently why they left all their worldly possessions to them. Well, if Edward was still alive, it would have all been left to him, but since he's gone too, it was willed to Renee and Charlie as the secondary beneficiaries.<br />
<br />
Ed liked to dabble in the stock market, and from time to time, he made a little bit of money and stashed it away for a comfortable retirement. It's been enough to pay off their debt, but not the mortgage. All that is left is enough to cover the next few years worth of the payments and the upkeep. Charlie is determined to sell their house right away, but thankfully, Renee is on my side and refuses to put it on the market so quickly. She says she can't stand the thought of someone else living in Liz's house and ruining her beautiful lawn. I tell them that I want to stay in the house while I'm in college. Again, Charlie tries to shoot the idea down, but I cry to my mom and play the sentimental card with her. She then turns on my dad, heavily guilting him in to acquiescing, and finally Charlie agrees as long as I can take care of the house.<br />
<br />
So, now the agreement stands that I can remain in the house as long as I can keep up with the housework, yard work, my course work, and I'll have to get a part-time job to help with my gas money and auto repair bills. Edward's crappy truck was included in the entire estate package, and knowing we wouldn't make any money by selling it for scrap metal, I played the sentimental card again to keep it. It meant so much to him, Daddy, I begged. I just can't part with it.<br />
<br />
Next thing I know, I'm sitting at the DMV getting my driver's license. I still have my learner's permit, since Edward always drove me wherever I needed to go. He tried to give me driving pointers, but Edward's definition of proper road etiquette didn't exactly line up with the law. Now, Officer Swan is teaching me how to obey the rules of the road while attempting to drive that piece of shit. Well, I guess it's my piece of shit now. Needless to say, it's been an interesting few weeks. <br />
<br />
<br />
The rest of the summer passes by slowly. My emotions remain on a continuous roller coaster with no signs of stopping, especially as my first fall semester of college starts.<br />
<br />
Angela and Peter invite me to live with them during the week at their apartment in Tucson, but I turn down the offer, not wanting to leave my 'hobbit hole' as Charlie refers to it. Edward's room - my safe haven, my home, my Fortress of Solitude. I keep up with my end of the bargain: vacuuming the floors, dusting the shelves, mowing the grass. Hell, I even try to tend to Liz's flower gardens, but unfortunately, I don't have much of a green thumb, and more than a few plants croak. I tell myself that she would be turning over in her grave at my gardening skills if it weren't for the fact that she's eternally resting in a metal urn on the mantle.<br />
<br />
<br />
During my first semester of college, I stick to myself most of the time, focusing on my studies and occasionally hanging out with Ang and Pete. In the blink of an eye, the semester is over, and the Christmas holiday break without Edward is one of the most horrible times of my life. I spend those two weeks in Edward's room, crying inconsolably until I fall asleep in his/my bed every night. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
A few days before Christmas, Charlie climbs into the attic and finds an old, artificial Christmas tree and decorations. Renee, Angela, and Pete help me hang the lights and ornaments one evening while my dad's at work. Most of the ornaments don't affect me much, but when I discover the three stockings with their names written in glitter, I cry so hard that I have dry heaves. Angela and Pete hang the stockings on the stairway banister while Renee holds me, and together we cry into each other's shoulders. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
By New Years Eve, all of the decorations are put away in the attic, and I spend a quiet evening at Charlie and Renee's house. We watch the celebrations on TV, and I silently curse every minute that brings us closer to midnight. I feel like I should be letting go of this past year and focusing all my attention on the future. What do you do if your entire future is taken away from you? What is there to look forward to? <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
When February rolls around, I try to ignore Valentine's Day. I've gotten a job at a small bistro, and I practically beg my manager to schedule me for a double shift, knowing it can serve two purposes; one, I can get tons of tips since we will be insanely busy, and two, if I'm really swamped, then I don't have time to dwell on the fact that Edward isn't here to be my valentine anymore. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
The next several months continue on as the last ones have. I gladly make the nearly two hour drive to and from school several days a week and work a few evenings and most weekends at the bistro. The house is kept clean and the yard manicured. I try to keep Edward's truck maintained because I'm not emotionally or financially ready to allow it to die on me. I refuse to let it rust away in the driveway, and I sure as hell can't afford a car payment on my measly salary. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
I spend an occasional night with Angela and Pete in Tuscon, usually when I have a late study group or when I'm too drunk to drive. Those nights don't happen very often - usually when Pete comes home during the week and steals more liquor and beer from his father's secret stash. Charlie would skin me alive if he knew I was partaking in underage drinking, but fuck, I'm in college. It's what college kids do. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
I rebel like most young coeds: underage drinking, a tattoo, a body piercing. I even cut my hair and add bright red color streaks for a more dramatic effect. Renee seems to think that my emo attitude and sudden change in hair style is a small cry for help. Maybe it is... Help bring my love back to me! Thank fuck she can't see my tattoo or piercing. If she knew about those, she'd probably send me to therapy. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
My second year without Edward is much the same as the first, but with a few less tears shed. My heart is still shattered in a million pieces, but I don't cry myself to sleep every night anymore. I laugh more and cry less. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
From time to time, I get that eerie feeling that I'm being watched. Sometimes while I'm at school, sometimes at work. Hell, even a few times at home. It's not a comforting feeling - like maybe it's Edward watching over me, making sure I'm okay. No, this is a creepy, hair-raising, bone chilling, fight or flight kind of sensation... and it's very unsettling. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
On post Hell day number six hundred and thirteen there's a change in my world. I arrive at work, figuring it will be a normal day, but I'm surprised to be asked to train a new waiter named Riley. Not that training a new employee is unusual. I've been working at the bistro for over a year, and I'm frequently assigned to orient a newbie, but what shocks me is my response to Riley. He's friendly and polite, unlike most of the typical college boys I've met, and very handsome too. I actually get a little nervous and giddy during our close interactions throughout the day. We finish our tasks for closing the bistro and say goodnight to each other as we walk toward the employee parking lot. I smile and wave at him as I merge out into traffic, heading the short distance back to my house. As I pull up to a stoplight, I burst into tears, suddenly overwhelmed by the feeling that I'm cheating on Edward. I'm attracted to Riley and his beautiful blue-green eyes and brown hair, and in a way, he reminds me of Edward. But he's not Edward. No one could ever replace him. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
I call Angela as soon as I get home and sob into the phone, retelling her the events of the evening and the uncontrollable feelings that ensued. She listens intently, offering her thoughts and encouragement on the situation. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"But, Ang, I feel like I'm cheating on Edward. How can I do that to him?" I cry, hiccuping into the phone. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"Bella, you are not disrespecting him. Do you think he'd want you to be sad and alone for the rest of your life? He's not coming back, sweetie." <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
I cry even harder at her comment, but I know it's the truth. Sometimes the truth hurts, right? <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"I know that," I snap. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"Just... be happy." <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
It takes a few months for Angela's words to sink in. I know Edward wouldn't want me to be lonely forever. I'm young, relatively attractive, and would really like to have someone to spend some time with. But with the traumatic loss of Edward, I'm scared to get involved with another man. I'm afraid he'll wind up dead, too. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
On post-Hell day number eight hundred and seven - just at the start of my junior year of college - I give myself a pep talk on my way to work, trying to convince my brain that this will be a good idea. It's time... for me... to move on. God, I can't believe I just thought that! <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
I arrive at the bistro, enter the restaurant, and for the first time in a few years, I attempt to wrangle the butterflies in my stomach. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"Hi, Bella!" Riley says, smiling brightly. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"Hey, Riley. How was your exam the other day?" I clock in and grab an apron, tying it around my waist. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"It was a breeze. Thanks for your help. I might need to keep you as my biology tutor." <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
I smile and blush at his praise, and I realize that if I don't do this now, I will definitely chicken out later. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"So, uh, Riley? I was wondering if you'd like to grab a bite with me after our shift tonight? Maybe hit the diner down the street?" I turn away from him to glance at the staff schedule, too nervous to look him in the eye. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
He's quiet for a few seconds, and I wonder if he's already headed to the front of the restaurant and I've been talking to the dust motes until he touches me lightly on the arm. "I'd love to go out with you tonight, Bella." <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
A few months ago, I told Riley about Edward and his family, and that I'm living in their house. He asked me if I was ready to start dating again, and at the time, I told him that I wasn't. I'm not even sure I'm ready now, but I don't have any plans of falling into a serious relationship in the near future. Maybe just a few flirty evenings out with a nice guy to help ease me into the dating scene. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
We manage to have a few easy dates - dinner, bowling, a movie after class one afternoon. And when we spend time together, we both seem to have a blast. We laugh and talk about our friends and families. We even manage to schedule a triple date with Peter and Charlotte and Angela and Ben at a pool hall for billiards and darts. Things seem to be slowly progressing in our friendship. By springtime the following year, we finally graduate to innocent touches and chaste goodnight kisses. He knows I'm not ready to move things forward, and I appreciate his patience with me. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
As spring turns into summer, I notice that things between Riley and me begin to shift. During each date, things get more intense, more intimate. We've hardly made it past first base, but there is a new spark between us, and it both scares and excites me. Riley is a lot like Edward in many ways. They share the same sense of humor and passion for wildlife, but in other ways, they are very different. Edward was more outgoing than Riley, and although Riley's kisses are sweet and tender, they will never hold a candle to Edward's. Nothing will ever compare to him. But I know it's not fair to Riley; I shouldn't be comparing the two of them. Edward isn't here anymore... Riley is. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
~*~*~*~*~ <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
The weird, unsettling feeling comes and goes from time to time, but I notice that the time span between the occurrences is less and less. I notice it more when I'm in Phoenix than at school in Tucson. It seems to come more frequently at work than at home, but the times are so erratic, it's hard to nail down a pattern. I keep a diary of the amount of caffeine and spicy foods I eat, thinking that may be a cause of an overactive imagination. My doors are always locked and the blinds are closed most of the time. A few times I've even notice Carrumba squawking loudly and flapping her wings in a panic at the same time I get that sensation. Sometimes I wonder if I'm becoming paranoid, or if I'm imagining it altogether. Somehow, I don't think either of those is the case. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
The summer before my senior year of college has been the most trying. I've been working extra hours at the bistro, hoping to bank a little bit of cash for grad school next year. Renee and Charlie have been pressuring me to continue my education in Arizona, but I'm not sure I want to stay here. I consider a few universities out of state that could offer me a diverse education to enhance my current track, a Bachelor's in Natural Resources, but I haven't made any final decisions yet. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
My parents gave me a hard time when I finally selected a major. They said that I was still holding onto Edward and doing something that I would probably regret later in life. It isn't a field I'm particularly interested in, but it means a lot to me to continue a little bit of Edward's legacy - even if it doesn't deal with insects directly. Edward loved the outdoors, especially the beautiful landscapes of the White Mountains, and had always mentioned he wanted to visit other parts of the country. I think he would be proud of me for choosing this field of study as my major, and that alone has made me never think twice about it. I mean... I love the idea of helping to save the environment. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
The first day of my final year of undergrad, I make plans to meet up with Angela at our favorite sports bar across the street from campus to gossip about our professors and daunting course outlines. After my final class of the day, I stride out to the parking lot, hop in my truck, slide the key into the ignition and... and... nothing. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Fuck. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
I pop the hood latch and exit the cab. Climbing up onto the front bumper, I slide my fingers under the large, heavy metal hood and peer at the engine as if it will speak up and tell me what its problem is. As I'm poking around the wires and belts, I'm interrupted by a throat clearing. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"Car trouble?" <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
With my head still under the hood, I roll my eyes at the redundant question and then turn to face my visitor. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"Uh, yeah," I reply sarcastically to the nice looking guy, in his mid-twenties, with sandy blond hair and dark blue eyes smirking at me. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"Mind if I take a look, princess?" <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
I bristle at that term, but I need a hand with the truck, so I let it slide. I step off the bumper and wave my hand in a 'go ahead' gesture. He winks at me and climbs against the front grill, checking wires and other trucky kind of stuff inside. Cocky prick. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"When was the last time you had your spark plugs changed?" he asks, his head deep inside the engine. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"No clue." I shrug my shoulders even though he can't see me do it. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
After a few minutes, he straightens up and hops off the bumper, holding some small part of my engine in his hand. "I think this is your problem. I might actually have a replacement for it in my truck." He nods toward an auto parts delivery van parked a few spaces away. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
When he returns, he's smirking at me again. His eyes travel down my body slowly and back up again, spending longer than appropriate on my chest. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"So... What's your name, beautiful?" <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
I spit and sputter, caught off guard by his blatant attempt at flirting, "I, er, I'm, uh, Bella." <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"Bella..." he whispers, as if committing it to memory. "I'm Jay." <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"Okay. Hi, Jay." I smile tightly, not wanting to seem overly friendly. He winks again and turns to climb up into the engine, installing the new part. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
When he steps down and closes the hood, he smiles at me and waves toward the cab of the truck. "Why don't you start it up, Bella." <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
I nod and dart to the open driver's side door and slide against the leather seat. I crank the ignition and - VROOM! - it starts immediately, rumbling loudly in the parking garage of the college. Smiling like a fool, I hop out of the cab and approach Jay near the front end. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"Thanks so much for helping me. How much do I owe ya?" <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"A drink." <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"Huh?" I look at him with furrowed brows, confused by his reply. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"You can repay me by having a drink with me." He raises his eyebrows and nods his head toward the same sports bar across the street. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"Oh. Uh, actually, I'm meeting my friend for dinner in a little bit. Maybe some other time?" I offer, hoping to let him down gently. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"No time like the present, Bella. Besides, I promise this way is a better deal for you. The part for your truck would set you back about a hundred and twenty bucks," he purrs as he slowly approaches me and rests his elbow on the door frame of the truck. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"Well, uh..." <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"Just one little drink." <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
I debate silently in my head, trying to convince myself to take the deal and get it over with. I only have my check book with me, and I don't want to have to write one for the part, and for Jay to get my address from it. Something about him just rubs me the wrong way. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"Okay, but just one drink." <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
I send a quick text to Ang, letting her know that I'm bringing a guest. Jay smiles like a Cheshire cat as we cross the busy street toward the sports bar. He tries to wrap his arm around my shoulders, but I step away from him quickly, pretending to look around the sidewalks for my friend. Once inside, I tell him to just grab a high-top table at the bar, and I excuse myself to the restroom. When I get back to the dining room, I spot Angela at the hostess stand... with Ben. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Great. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
I'm happy as shit that they are here, but now our numbers are even and this makes me feel more uneasy, like it's a double date. Ugh. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Jay is already seated in a booth near the bar, and he smiles broadly when I approach. But not in a damn-she's-beautiful kind of way, but more like a I'm-going-to-devour-this-little-girl kind of sneer. Of course Ben and Angela slide into the seat across from Jay, leaving me the spot next to him. I smile lightly, gently sliding into the booth as Jay stretches his arm across the back of the bench and angles his body towards me. I keep my arms tucked against my sides and sit on my hands, so as to not give him the impression that I want to touch him. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Angela raises her eyebrows at me, silently asking why I'm out with Jay, and not Riley. I roll my eyes quickly and shake my head, telling her not to question me about it. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
We order a round of drinks as I introduce everybody to one another. I'm hoping Jay finishes his beer quickly and excuses himself, but of course that doesn't happen. He strikes up a heated conversation about sports with Ben and orders some appetizers. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
I try to ignore the repetitive light touches against the back of my head and the gentle tugs at the ends of my hair. He's just being flirty, I tell myself. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
The next thing I know, Angela is asking about when I work my next shift at the diner, and I can see Jay's ears perk up in attention. He asks where I work, and I try to brush off his question, telling him that I work at a little place near downtown Phoenix. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Needing to divert the attention away from me, I quickly change the subject and excuse myself for a moment, feigning an important call. I escape toward the bathrooms and release a deep sigh as I lean against the wall of the corridor. Mustering the courage to walk back out into the restaurant, I give myself a pep 0talk to approach Jay and thank him for his help with my truck. I'm stopped short when a figure blocks the hallway exit. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"I'm sorry, Bella, but I'm going to have to leave. Work, you know?" Jay says, leaning against the doorjamb. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
I nod and smile tightly, hoping to get this over with. "Okay. It was nice meeting you, Jay. Thanks so much for your help today." I hold my hand out to him, expecting a handshake. What I get in return is a cocky grin and Jay's arm wrapping around my waist, pulling me closer toward him. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"Oh, it was my pleasure, Bella. I'll be seeing you again soon. I promise," he whispers in my ear, squeezing my middle quickly and then brushes his hand across my ass before turning to walk toward the restaurant exit. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
I stand in the bathroom corridor, mouth agape, with a surprised look on my face. What a creep! <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
~*~*~*~**~*~ <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
By the time the holidays roll around again, my relationship with Riley has progressed. We spend more time alone together outside of work - pizza and DVDs at his apartment, a few concerts at local pubs, and meeting up for lunch on my non-school days. Our physical relationship is moving along too, just still at a snail's pace. We've now managed to round third base, but that's about as far as I'm ready to go at this point. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
One day in December, the bistro is packed with holiday shoppers, stopping in for a quick lunch to fuel their shopping energy. As I'm clearing off a table near the front windows, a familiar voice whispers in my ear, "Told you that I would see you again, baby." <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
A sudden chill runs down my spine, and I straighten up quickly, shocked to see Jay at my place of work. "Oh, uh, hi, Jay. How are you?" I try for nonchalance, but my shaky hands and trembling voice give my nervousness away. Why does this guy make me so anxious? <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"I'm better now that I've found you. I've been looking for you ever since that day we met. It was just a matter of time before I tracked you down," he says smugly, reaching up to run his fingers along the infinity necklace around my neck. His eyes travel slowly down my body, pausing a bit too long on my breasts... and then he licks his lips. Oh, gross. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
I know I should probably just turn and walk away from the table, but I'm always one to be professional, even toward the asshole customers. I offer a tight-lipped smile and ask for his order. He gives me his food selections and asks - if he pays double - will I sit and feed him. Is this douchebag kidding me? I laugh off his question and silently tell myself to have Riley or Hank bring him his order. I don't want any of the other girls standing too close to him. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Unfortunately, his food is ready just as Hank goes on break and Riley is swamped with a ten-top table. I quickly bring Jay's food out to him, ask him if there's anything else he will need for his meal, and I scurry away and hide out in the back until he's finished eating. I promptly bring him the check, and he doesn't wait for me to collect it for change, just leaving the cash for the bill and an additional twenty bucks. Hell yeah, I sure as hell deserve that just for dealing with your creepiness alone, asshole. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
For the next month or two, Jay shows up at the bistro more frequently, and each time he's there, he's a total prick. He usually asks me out for drinks after work and each time I let him down gently, not wanting to hurt his feelings for rejecting him. Riley is really pissed that he keeps coming around, but I tell him that I'll handle Jay and I'm working on getting rid of him. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"Why don't you want to confront him and tell him to leave you alone?" Riley growls as he cuts Jay the evil-eye from across the bistro. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"I don't want to make the guy mad, Riley. It's not like I'm inviting him here," I snap. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"I know that, but you could just tell him that I'm your boyfriend, and maybe he'll take the hint and stop stalking you." <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
I stop rolling the silverware into napkins and whip my head around to look at Riley. His face is flushed, angry, and his nostrils flare. A slow smile crawls across my face, my brain replays the words he just spoke. Boyfriend. Riley's my boyfriend. I smile wider, really liking the way it sounds. A small twinge of guilt hits me suddenly, but I recover knowing that Riley is a really good guy and Edward would have liked him. Riley looks at my face and tries to decipher my expression. I take an excited, galloping step toward him, place my hands against his cheeks and kiss him hard on the lips. My boyfriend. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
I tear my eyes away from Riley's stunned face and glance out into the restaurant. Jay is staring at us, his hands gripped tightly into fists on the table and a evil sneer tugging at his lips. In a flash, he slams cash on the table and storms out of the bistro. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
I look back at Riley and smile. "Problem solved!" <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
The weekend of Valentine's Day, Angela begs me to come out to a night club with her. I try to claim being too exhausted from my busy shift and having to work again the next day, but she doesn't want to hear it. She shows up at my house a little before 10pm, hoochie-mama'd out in a short mini dress and stiletto boots. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"What the fuck are you wearing?" I ask as she steps into the living room and flings her makeup bag on the coffee table, startling Carrumba. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"Well, don't laugh, okay? Ben has had this fantasy of picking up a hot, slutty chick from the club and fucking her in the alley behind it." <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
I can't help but to laugh. Ben is such a weirdo. Gesturing to her outfit, I inquire, "So, uh, this is the hot, slutty chick costume?" She blushes and tries to bite her lip to prevent herself from laughing with me. "Is he coming with us?" <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
She shakes her head 'no' and tells me that he's coming later with a few of his friends. I make a quick call to Riley, asking if he wants to join us, but he says he's wiped out from the insanely busy shift tonight and tells me to have a great time and be careful going home. I tell him that I will text him when I leave and when I arrive at home, and he agrees that would be great. He blows me kisses through the phone and I giggle, returning smooches back to him and tell him goodnight. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Two cosmos later, Angela and I are shaking our asses on the dance floor. She's nearly twisted her ankle a few times in the damn boots, but has managed to stay upright. We are laughing and teasing each other about our corny dancing styles when a warm hand comes to wrap around my waist and a firm body presses against me. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
I smile, thinking it's Riley and that he's come to the club to surprise me, but when I turn around, I'm facing the intense glower of Jay. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"Hey, beautiful. Where's your boy-toy tonight?" <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
I lie, "He's around here somewhere." The music is loud, the deep bass pounding through my chest, and it masks the shakiness in my voice. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"I've been watching you all night and haven't seen him at all. Are you sure he's here?" He leans in closely to my ear, and reaches up with his other hand to secure my head against his cheek. "You sure do look very sexy tonight, Bella. One would think that you would only dress this way for your boyfriend, but," he trails of for a moment to look around the dance floor again before pressing his lips against my ear as he continues, "since he's not here, I could fill in for him tonight. I promise you'll be very... satisfied... with my abilities." <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Maybe it's the liquid courage, or maybe it's that I've finally had enough of his bullshit, but I finally snap and tell him to leave me alone. He smirks at me like he was hoping to get that kind of response out of me. So what does he do next? He pulls his arms tighter around my waist and then palms my ass. Mother. Fucker. I whirl around him and slap his face as hard as I can manage and turn to storm off, but not before I hear him mutter, "I like you feisty." <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Angela grabs my hand and pulls me further away from Jay and over toward Ben and his friends. The guys shift their seats and make room for us in the middle between the four of them. At least if Jay tries to get handsy again, there's more protection. Jesus, he's a fucking creep! <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
We stay at the club for about an hour or two more, and for the first little bit, Jay is staring holes through me from across the bar. I try not to look at him, but I can't help but keep a close eye on his location and proximity to me. That was something my dad always taught me - to always be aware of your surroundings. After a while, I notice him talking to a woman at the bar, and immediately I am relieved. I don't mind a little attention, but his stalker tendencies are way over the top of my comfort zone. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
That disturbing sensation is back and I can't help the uncontrollable shiver that runs through me. I'll have to remember to add alcohol and Jay to my list of possible triggers. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Ben gains my attention back from Jay and asks me about grad school. I tell him about being accepted at three universities, but I haven't made my decision yet. My prospective colleges are in different corners of the country; however, to appease my parents, I also applied to the University of Arizona. Daring to take another look for Jay's location, I lift my martini glass to my lips and scan the bar area quickly. He's not there. Shit! I try for nonchalance, bobbing my head to the music and slowly taking inventory of the people on the dance floor. Finally, I find him grinding against some skanky redhead near the corner. What a douchebag. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Thankfully, Angela starts rubbing up on Ben and letting him finger the tops of her thigh-high boots. Time to go! I thank Angela for inviting me and tell her I will call her tomorrow. She nods her head slightly as Ben is nibbling his way across her neck in the middle of the booth. The other guys take the hint to leave them alone, and agree to make sure I get to my truck safely. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
The next morning I wake up to overcast skies and a sharp chill in the air. Arizona doesn't usually get down to freezing in the winter time, but today seems to be one of those rare days. I send Riley a 'good morning' text and head straight for the kitchen. Thankfully I'm not hungover, but I definitely don't want to be up quite this early. I make a hearty breakfast of eggs and sausage, knowing I'll need the energy for the Valentine's rush today. Pulling my work pants from the dryer, I make a mental note to pick up some cologne or something for Riley. It's been a while since I had a boyfriend for Valentine's Day, but I know he'll appreciate the gift no matter what it is. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
I climb into the truck, crank the engine, and cringe when brain-piercingly loud music fills the car. I always forget that your hearing is impaired for a while after you leave the club. I turn down the volume and back out the driveway, heading to work. Riley hasn't returned my texts yet, but I'll see him later when his shift starts at noon. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
But Riley doesn't show up. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
No calls, no texts, no carrier pigeons, no LED signs... nothing. That's not like him. At the end of my shift, I decide to drive to his apartment to see if he's okay and was possibly too sick to call in. When I pull up at his building, I notice his car in the parking lot. But he doesn't answer his door. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
And he doesn't show up the next day - Monday. He hasn't called or texted. Oh, I definitely don't like this feeling of deja vu. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
I head straight over to his place again after my shift, but that's when I'm confronted with an all too familiar scene of police cars and a coroner van in front of the building. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
No! <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
I bolt from the truck, fighting my way to the apartment building entrance, when I'm stopped by a police officer. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"I'm sorry, Miss. I need some identification that you live in this building or I won't be able to let you in." He grabs my arm as I try to push past him, frantic to find Riley's door. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"I need to find Riley," I shriek. "Where is he? Is he okay?" I try to pull away from the officer, tears forming in my eyes. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"Are you friends with Riley Morgan, Miss?" <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"Y-Yes," I croak, the overwhelming feeling of dread hitting me square in the chest. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Just as he starts asking me about the last time I had seen Riley, two burly men stomp down the stairs, carrying a gurney - a white body bag lying on top. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Oh, God! <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
~*~*~*~*~*~* <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
I'm crying against my mother's shoulder as she rocks our bodies back and forth. "Shhh, baby," she coos. "I'm so sorry this has happened." <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Sorry? Sorry!? What is she sorry for? It's apparent that something out there wants to destroy me by killing the men in my life. First Edward, and now Riley... Who's next? Charlie? Peter? I can't risk losing them too. I'm going to have to leave. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
As my sobs quiet, Renee leaves me on the couch in their living room to make me some tea. She says it will help calm me down. Nothing is going to help calm me down. My entire world was blown apart when Edward died, and so slowly, I started to patch my life back together again. But now Riley... sweet, caring Riley... has been murdered. I don't feel safe. That freaky feeling has been more and more frequent and it's really starting to scare me, plus there's a creepy guy stalking me, and I can't take this shit anymore! I can't take Phoenix anymore. I can't take the fucking Southwest anymore. I have to go. I need to go somewhere. Any-fucking-where. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Renee returns with my chamomile tea and sits the mug on the coffee table. "We'll help you through this, baby." I stare blankly at the ceramic cup, lost in my own thoughts and barely registering Renee's words of encouragement. "At least you"ll be moving back home with us for grad school, saving your father and me some money." She mumbles the last part and I turn to look at her, confused. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"Why would I move back home? I already have a home. And what do you mean 'saving you money'? I can get loans or maybe a scholarship for school, and what happened to all the money from Ed's investments?" <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
She gets an oh-shit-I've-said-too-much expression on her face, and starts fumbling with her hands. She takes a deep breath and releases it slowly. "Honey... I was going to make your father tell you this, because he's convinced that we have no other options." <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
I swallow nervously, anxious about what more bad news I was going to have to deal with. She shifts her body toward mine and grabs my hands, squeezing them lightly. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"We have to sell the Masens' house." <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
My brain battles for a response, an argument, a fucking song to sing, anything, but I blurt out the first thing that pops into my head. "Yeah? Well, I'm moving to Washington." <br />
<center></center>SweetVenom69http://www.blogger.com/profile/16891131791448534680noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2259876397494509092.post-84953558746846517302010-05-29T20:37:00.000-04:002010-05-29T20:37:36.652-04:00Chapter 9Playlist selection: Crow and the Butterfly - by Shinedown <br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">Bella POV </div><br />
<br />
Over the past few weeks, I have come to refer to that fateful graduation day as Hell. Not "the day from Hell", but simply Hell. So as of today, it's been exactly twenty three days since Hell. Like a recently sober addict, I count the days and minutes from that life-altering moment that changed everything I ever knew, but I know that I shouldn't. It makes me focus on that itch, that need, for my drug of choice that's no longer within my reach. One day at a time, they say. <br />
<br />
But like an addict, my recovery is ongoing and some days are easier than others. Thankfully, today is one of those days. <br />
<br />
On Edward's birthday, Angela manages to rescue me from my pity party and drags me out of the house for lunch at Applebee's and a quick run through Target for necessities. We have the music blaring some annoying pop song and the windows down, enjoying the warm rush of air as it blows through the car. Angela says she needs to stop by her mom's office to pick up something, so we head off toward downtown and pull into the parking garage. I don't really feel like going into the office building, so Ang says she'll be right back and heads toward the entrance door. <br />
<br />
I'm snapping my bubble gum, listening to the radio, when I get a creepy chill down my spine. It's the same eerie feeling I had when Charlie's truck had the flat tire. I hear a deep growl and then notice a flash in the passenger door mirror. I whip my head around to see who's there. <br />
<br />
No one. <br />
<br />
I swing around in the other direction, looking for anyone who may be watching me. I only see a redheaded woman with a leather jacket walking into the entrance door at the other end of the garage. That's weird... it's the second of July...in Arizona. It's a bit hot for a leather jacket, isn't it? <br />
<br />
"Ready to go?" Angela startles me as she opens the driver's side door and slides into the car. <br />
<br />
"Yeah, uh, let's get outta here." I look around nervously, still trying to push away that unsettled feeling. <br />
<br />
We arrive back at the house a little while later, and she helps me bring in my purchases from her trunk. A pink notice is stuck to the front door, and I glance at it quickly as we set the bags on the kitchen table. <br />
<br />
Carrumba is squawking, wanting out of her cage. We've fallen into a routine lately, and it's past her afternoon jungle gym playtime. As I'm unlocking the cage door, Angela asks me about the pink notice. <br />
<br />
"It says that someone must be present at the time of delivery. You have to call this number and tell them what time you'll be here." She points to a phone number at the bottom of the notice and places it on the kitchen table. She helps me unload the bags and then heads back home to prepare for her date with Ben later on. <br />
<br />
As Carrumba is chowing down on her favorite - ham and cheese instant grits - for dinner, I make a call to the delivery company, confirming a time for them to arrive. I spend the rest of the evening just like the last twenty-two nights: soothing shower, comfortable pyjamas, and crying until I'm exhausted enough to finally fall asleep. <br />
<br />
The next morning, my mom and I make a trip to the grocery store, needing ingredients for the annual neighborhood Fourth of July cookout tomorrow. With a lot of resistance from my parents and friends, I organized a small memorial service for the Masens before the cookout. They think that I should wait and hold a little ceremony next weekend or something. I disagree, feeling it will be the perfect date to do it, considering tomorrow would have been the day I married Edward - under our favorite gazebo in the park at the end of our street. Finally, they relented and Renee enlisted the help of Mrs. Weber, and together, they notified all of the people we invited to the wedding, informing them about the turn of events. <br />
<br />
Now, instead of rows of white chairs, flowers, and a wedding cake, Pastor Weber will say a few prayers and then we will allow time for anyone who wants to share their favorite memories of the Masens to speak. I believe, deep in my heart, that Liz and Ed would appreciate the fact that people were celebrating their lives instead of mourning their deaths. They were always positive and happy people. Edward would have just been thrilled with the goddamn fireworks at the end of the day, hoping for a huge finale. <br />
<br />
Renee has just left to go back to her house when the delivery man arrives. I sign for the parcel and bring it inside, eyeing the unusual packaging and warning labels reading "Live Specimen". What the fuck is this? I haul the box to the kitchen table and grab a knife from the utensil drawer. When I lift the lid off the box and read the instruction sheet on how to keep the three dozen creepy-crawlies in a temperate environment, I begin to get nervous. Please, God, don't let it be some man-eating tarantulas or mutant scorpions. As I peel the protective sheet from the creatures inside, I gasp loudly and collapse to the floor of the kitchen, clutching the Styrofoam lid tightly in my hands. <br />
<br />
No. No, no, no. <br />
<br />
~*~*~*~**~*~ <br />
<br />
Post-Hell day number twenty-four, I wake up in tears. I don't remember much of the dream I had, but it centered around Edward - as they usually do. He was running through a forest, being pelted by cold, heavy rain drops, and he was smiling. He was happy. Maybe it was a message sent from Heaven, reassuring me that he's at peace, that it's time to stop crying over losing him. I've been so wrapped up in my own despair and heartbreak, that I never considered whether he was content wherever he is. A part of me is crushed by the thought of Edward blissfully existing somewhere in the universe without me. <br />
<br />
The more I think about this, the more I cry. My eyelids are swollen, and my head is stuffy and throbbing. I decide to take a hot shower, needing the steam to open my pores and flush out all my heartache. As I step out of the foggy bathroom, I hear my cell phone blaring from the bedroom. Renee asks if I can come help her this morning with preparing the food for the picnic later this afternoon. Getting dressed, I slip on a pair of Edward's gym shorts and a basketball jersey, knowing I'll change into something more appropriate for the memorial service from my old closet at my parents' house. <br />
<br />
After the food is prepared and wrapped securely with foil or plastic wrap, Renee shoos me out of the kitchen to get dressed for the service. As I climb the stairs to my old room, I take a deep cleansing breath, knowing I need to corral my emotions today. I enter the bedroom and head straight to the closet, searching for the particular outfit I want to wear. The doorbell rings as I'm changing into a strapless bra. I peek out the curtain, noticing a small delivery van. Figuring it's someone for the cookout, I turn back to my closet and pull the white eyelet sundress over my head. I spend several moments styling my hair and putting on a small amount of makeup. I dig around my jewelry box, searching for the perfect accessories for my outfit, but when I glance down at the ring on my left hand, I decide that that is the perfect choice. It's from Edward. I also haven't taken off the infinity necklace since Angela clasped it around my neck. I know technically it's not, but I consider it a gift from Liz and Ed. <br />
<br />
I glance up into my vanity mirror, giving myself a watery smile, knowing I'm wearing something that represents each of the Masens. With a shaky breath, I walk over to the window again and rest my forehead against the glass. I stare out toward the front yard, seeing nothing and everything at the same time. He was my whole life - my past, present, and future - but now he's gone forever. A heart-wrenching sob erupts from my chest as I realize there's not a single memory or a hope for the future that didn't involve Edward in some way. <br />
<br />
My eyes focus on a florist delivery truck as it pulls against the curb to unload several bouquets of flowers. It triggers memories of getting in trouble for trampling through Liz's flowerbeds when we were seven years old, of the wrist corsage he gave me for homecoming last year, and the daisy he placed in my locker when I was mad at him for skipping school without me during our freshman year. More sentimental images begin to flood my brain: our visits to the botanical gardens, vampire plants, butterflies, and our first kiss. <br />
<br />
So many memories. <br />
<br />
The bedroom door creaks as it opens, and I realize I'm crumpled on the floor beneath my window. Tears are streaming like a lava flow, carrying away the remnants of my makeup with them. I wipe under my eyes as Renee peeks around my door. <br />
<br />
"Bella, honey," she calls as she steps across the room and kneels beside me on the floor. "It's time to go. The service won't be very long, and then you can come right back home, okay?" <br />
<br />
With my body feeling slightly numb, I barely register that I'm being lifted to my bed and my shoes are being slid onto my feet. I gaze blankly up at my mother's offered hand to stand and pull her into a tight hug. <br />
<br />
I collapse against her shoulder, my voice, raspy and withered with emotion, "He's gone, Mom...they're all gone." <br />
<br />
~*~*~*~*~*~ <br />
<br />
Renee keeps busy, setting up her dishes for the cookout on one of the picnic tables next to the gazebo. I place my small offering of potato chip cookies next to the other desserts and quickly step away before I break down again. Last night, I managed to ruin the first two batches that I made because I cried uncontrollably and couldn't focus on the measurements. I've made these damn cookies for years, and know the recipe by heart, but my head just couldn't pull it from my memory. <br />
<br />
There are several women helping Renee with the food organization, and Mr. Samuels is manning the grill - as he does every year. I scurry away into the gazebo and notice as Charlie situates a few sympathy flower arrangements near the archways. The scent of the flowers reminds me of a funeral parlor, and my eyes immediately well with tears. Taking a deep, calming breath, I distract myself by arranging a collection of picture frames sitting on a covered card table next to the makeshift podium/stage area. It never occurred to me to have their family portrait blown up and displayed for the entire neighborhood to see instead of these four-by-six photos. But these were pictures of them living life - Ed and Edward fishing, Liz covered in dirt smudges and pointing her gardening spade at whoever was taking the picture. There's even one of Edward and me running through the sprinkler in his backyard when we were six years old. A tear escapes and begins its journey down my cheek, but I wipe it away quickly, not wanting to break down before the service. <br />
<br />
Several of the families from the neighborhood start to arrive and gather around the gazebo, giving their condolences to my parents and me. I try so hard to keep it together, but each I'm so sorry for your loss and What a tragedy; they were a nice family just tears open my heart more and more. <br />
<br />
Finally, Pastor Weber calls everyone's attention and thanks them for attending our impromptu memorial service. He gives a short, uplifting sermon and finishes with a prayer. He turns the floor over to anyone who wishes to share a favorite memory they have about the Masens. For a few moments, no one steps up to say anything, and I start to get nervous, thinking that scheduling this for today was a stupid idea. <br />
<br />
Thankfully, Mrs. Doblesmith clears her throat and describes the first time she ever met Liz at the Garden Club. After her, a few more people stand up and reminisce with us about their connections. One gentleman had worked with Ed and my dad on the police force, another woman was a long-standing client at Liz's salon, and two sophomores mention that Edward was always nice to them at school. <br />
<br />
After a dozen or so people took the stage and voiced their memories, Renee nods at Charlie and they pull me to join them them as they make their way toward the podium. Charlie clears his throat and reaches into his pocket, pulling out a crumpled piece of paper. He begins to read a letter to the Masens, written by him and Renee. It details their close friendship that can only be described as an extended family. Both of my parents take a turn reading the letter, retelling their favorite memories. In closing, Renee is clutching onto Charlie's shirt, sobbing quietly. Charlie actually sheds a rare tear; it cascades down his face as he hugs my mom and me tightly. There are several sniffles in the crowd, and once my dad releases me, I know it's my chance to say what I need to say. <br />
<br />
I hand my parents each a Styrofoam box, and ask them not to open them until I tell them to. They nod and stand on either side of me, offering their silent support. I look out at all the friends and neighbors that have gathered to remember Liz, Ed, and Edward, and suddenly I'm not sure if I can go through with this. My eyes start to water and I glance down at the paper in my hands; the words are blurry, and a tear drop lands in the middle of the page, smearing some of the ink. I gaze back up and meet the eyes of Angela and Peter. Their glistening eyes and encouraging smiles push me through my anxiety, and I swallow the lump in my throat before I begin my speech. <br />
<br />
"Uh, hi, everyone. Thanks for coming to the memorial service for the Masens." My voice is shaky and my chin quivers with every word. "Most of you wouldn't be here if you weren't friends with them, so then you probably know what today would have been had they not been taken away from us so soon." I looked around briefly, noticing several nods. <br />
<br />
"Edward's and my wedding day." There were a few quiet gasps, and Renee began to rub her hand up and down my back, relaxing and encouraging me at the same time. I offer her a small, flimsy smile, and then I turn back to my audience. You need to do this, Bella, I tell myself. <br />
<br />
"I found something written by Edward that I would like to share with you all. You would have heard it today, regardless if you were attending his memorial service or his wedding." Looking down at the wrinkled piece of paper in my hands, I remember reading his first attempts at writing his wedding vows. They were poetic and beautiful, and so not Edward. When I came across the last entry in his notebook, I knew this passage would have been what he recited to me today. I clear my throat again, and dive right into reading the words I have nearly memorized from reading constantly over the last two days. <br />
<br />
<em>"My Dearest Bella-Bug,</em><br />
<br />
<em>I’m not sure I have the words to express the feelings and emotions running through me right now. I am going to try my hardest to convey the depth of my love for you, </em><br />
<em><br />
</em><br />
<em>but always know, that there will never be the correct words for it. It's that immense. I am telling you in the only way I know how to express how much I love and adore you.</em><br />
<br />
<em>Bella... You and I started out as caterpillars, vulnerable and needing shelter from the outside world. Our mothers did their nesting side-by-side as we grew inside of them. Already, before we had met, we knew each other. We loved each other through our mother’s love, in their friendship, their sisterhood. </em><br />
<br />
<em>In our infancy, Bella, we played together and grew quickly. Our skin stretched, our legs grew; we became awkward in our adolescence…and yet, we grew closer and closer. I pretended to be grossed out by girls, and you by boys, at some point. I was never grossed out by you. How can you be grossed out by your other half? By the person that makes you feel most complete in this world? It’s always been you; we were meant for each other.</em><br />
<br />
<em>As our bodies grew and matured, our relationship began to change. We metamorphosed from an innocent friendship, into courtship, then into love. This is the next step in our life cycle, Bella-Bug, to forever change our lives, and to let our wings spread, and take flight! I am so honored and excited to have you at my side for this day and for the rest of our lives together. You are my butterfly, and your beauty, inside and out, brings me to my knees. </em><br />
<br />
<em>So, Isabella Marie Swan, I take you to be my wife from this time onward, to join with you and to share all that is to come, to be your faithful husband, to give and to receive, to speak and to listen, to inspire and to be inspired. From this day forward, you shall not walk alone. My heart will be your shelter and my arms will be your home. As I have given you my hand to hold, I give you my life to keep. This is my commitment to you - made in love, kept in faith, and cherished for eternity."</em><br />
<em> </em><br />
<br />
I take a deep, cleansing breath and chance a glance at my audience, noticing several people blotting their eyes. Renee sniffles next to me and tries to pull me into a hug, but I know that I will lose the weak grip on my emotions if I don't finish my speech. I shake my head at her quickly and continue on... <br />
<br />
<em>"My Dearest Edward, </em><br />
<em><br />
</em><br />
<em>When was it that we fell in love? When we were seventeen or fourteen, maybe ten? I don’t know ’cause the truth is I can’t picture a time that I wasn’t in love with you. I always knew you were the one that could look into my eyes and see my soul. I would have never questioned your commitment to us, and I know there’s nothing we wouldn't have been able to work through. And I would have accepted you as my husband and as my best friend above all others. It’s a miracle to find the kind of peace and happiness that you had given me, and in honor of that miracle, I pledge before our family and friends to continue to love, cherish, and honor you forever. </em><br />
<br />
<em>I know you aren't here to place a ring on my finger, kiss my lips, or call me your wife today, but I know wherever you are, that you love me and are watching over me. I promise to live the rest of my life with the passion you would have, and to keep your memory alive through everything I do. </em><br />
<em><br />
</em><br />
<em>So, Edward Anthony Masen, from this day forward, I shall not walk alone. Your heart will always be my shelter and your arms will always be my home. As I have given you my heart to hold, I give you my life to keep. This is my commitment to you - made in love, kept in faith, and cherished for eternity. I will love you forever, until my last day." </em><br />
<br />
As my voice cracks on the last phrase, I peer up to my audience again. Not one single dry eye in sight. Angela and Peter, Pastor and Mrs. Weber, Mr. and Mrs. Corbin, and even old, crotchety Mr. Patricks is wiping his eyes. Renee and Charlie have tears streaming down their faces. The brick wall containing my emotions is starting to crumble, so I push through with the final part of my declaration to Edward. <br />
<br />
"There is a Native American saying that if you whisper your wish to a butterfly, and set it free, it will carry your wish to Heaven and it will be granted." I carefully lift the lid off the box of a dozen sleeping Monarch butterflies. Edward had ordered these to be set free for our wedding, but instead, in a fucked up twist of fate, I'm releasing them at his memorial service. Gently, I cradle the precious creature in my hands and hold it against my lips. I quietly whisper my wish to it, place a soft kiss to the butterfly's wings, and raise my hand up and watch it take flight. It flutters around my head and then escapes from under the roof of the gazebo, out into the world. Renee lifts the lid from her box and does the same, as does Charlie. I turn to Angela and Peter, offering them each a sleeping butterfly. Other close friends of the Masens step up to claim a butterfly, whisper their wish to it and set them off toward Heaven. <br />
<br />
The chaotic swirl of black and orange wings, flitting around us, reminds me of our first date at the botanical gardens, and my eyes well up with tears. Pastor Weber approaches me and asks if he could recite a poem that he feels would be very fitting for the service. I nod and take a step back to allow him the podium. He deep voice echoes under the wood canopy of the gazebo as he reads from his worn tablet in his hands. <br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><em>"As you release this butterfly in honor of me,</em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em>know that I'm with you and will always be.</em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em>Hold a hand, say a prayer,</em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em>close your eyes and see me there.</em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em>Although you may feel a bit torn apart,</em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em>please know that I'll be forever in your heart.</em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em>Now fly away butterfly as high as you can go,</em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em>I'm right there with you more than you know." </em></div><br />
Charlie and Renee wrap me into a tight hug and I finally let the tears fall. Suddenly, this is too much, too final, and I need to get out of here. I need to get back home. Renee begs me to stay and eat something, assuring me that I need a good meal and some fellowship with our friends and neighbors at a time like this. I stay for about three minutes and a dozen hugs from people, before I am itching to escape. I excuse myself from the small congregation of people, and try to cross the soccer field quickly, but I'm stopped by Peter. <br />
<br />
"Bella!" he yells as he jogs to meet up with me. "Where are you going?" <br />
<br />
I look at him with tears streaming down my cheeks and snot bubbling from my nose. "I-I can't, Pete. I just... can't." I wave him off and continue my path towards my home. He stops in the middle of the field, his face full of pity for me, and I just can't take anymore of that. Not right now. Not today of all days. <br />
<br />
I start to move faster, approaching the parking lot of the park, dodging cars and I speed up my steps. By the time I hit the start of my street, I'm in a full run. Running as if the Devil was chasing me. I can't seem to get to the Masens' quick enough. The tears are flowing like a ruptured dam and my vision blurs, but I turn into the familiar driveway and sprint the last few feet until I'm inside the garage, wrenching open the kitchen door. I take a few steps inside and slump against the refrigerator, releasing a few pent up sobs. This isn't where I want to be. I don't want to be in the god damned kitchen! I want to be in my bed, clutching my pillow, and wailing into the empty room, letting loose all the pain and heartache I've been only showing smidgens of over the last few weeks. I need to scream and cry and throw things. This isn't fair! He shouldn't have been taken away from me! He was stolen from me! <br />
<br />
Turning for the stairs, I climb up to the room, stripping off my sundress along the way. My mind is so muddy and my vision so cloudy that my body moves automatically. I'm naked before I wrap my body with the soft, silky material and crumple on the floor next to the bed - legs so weak that I can't even stand to fling myself across the mattress. I cry and scream, and punch the side of the bed. Yelling that I hate the world, I hate the shitty future I have without Edward, and I hate Edward for leaving me. I know it's not his fault he's gone, but now I've reached the anger part of the grieving process. I'm angry that he went on that camping trip with his parents without me; angry that I never got to tell him goodbye; angry that my life feels meaningless without him; angry that I was supposed to become his wife today, but that I won't be. <br />
<br />
Time seems to pass slowly, but as the sun shines from the opposite angle across the room, I realize it's later in the afternoon. Renee's voice is floating up from downstairs, frantic and worried. "Bella?! Are you up there?!" <br />
<br />
"Mom?" My voice is thick and froggy. <br />
<br />
"Bella? Oh, Bella, sweetheart! I've been looking for you for over a hour!" She wraps her hand under my arm and helps me to stand. "I thought you'd be at the Masens', honey." <br />
<br />
I look at her, momentarily confused, until I hear her gasp. <br />
<br />
"Baby, your dress. C'mon, you're going to ruin it." <br />
<br />
Does she really think I give a shit about my useless wedding dress? I don't care if it's soiled with mascara smears and smudges from being dragged across the floor. The damn dress shop won't take it back, and I'm never going to need to wear it. She tries to pull the bodice down, but I'm gripping the top tightly with my fingers, stepping away from her, ready to run again. <br />
<br />
"Stop it, Mom! Just leave me alone, please!" I turn and bolt down the stairs, nearly trampling Charlie in the kitchen, and I make a bee-line for the Masens' house. The crinoline under the skirt of the dress catches on a fucking garden ornament in Liz's garden, and I trip, landing hard on my hands and knees in the middle of the driveway. My palm and knee are stinging from being scraped against the concrete, but I manage to get to the front door, barging in and locking it behind me. I collapse against the back of the door, still gripping the lock. <br />
<br />
"Hel-lo?" <br />
<br />
Carrumba. <br />
<br />
"Hel-lo?" <br />
<br />
"Hi, Carrumba," I mumble. She stops climbing around inside her cage, silently listening for me to speak again. "I'm sorry if I scared you." I pull myself up to stand, and make my way through the living room and into the kitchen. My mouth is parched. <br />
<br />
As I'm pouring a glass of ice water, the most melodic, most beautiful sound calls out to me, and I instantly think I'm delusional. It's Edward's voice. <br />
<br />
"Bel-la." <br />
<br />
I listen silently, hoping I will hear it again. <br />
<br />
"Bel-la, Bel-la, Bel-la," Carrumba sings. <br />
<br />
It's a miracle. I lift my face towards the sky and silently thank God, or my little butterfly, for granting my wish today... to hear Edward's voice call my name again, even if it is through a bird. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
A/N: The poem recited by Pastor Weber is a real poem written by Jill Haley for a butterfly release. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
SweetVenom69http://www.blogger.com/profile/16891131791448534680noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2259876397494509092.post-86829440751596080532010-05-15T19:51:00.001-04:002010-09-16T14:22:31.306-04:00Chapter 8<span style="font-size: x-small;"><em>Chapter 7 summary: Bella, Charlie, and Randy discover the gruesome crime scene at the cabin and call the authorities. After the police have questioned them and taken the evidence, Charlie and Bella pack up some of the Masens' belongings to take back to Phoenix. Before they leave the cabin, Bella gets an unsettling feeling - as if she's being watched - but shrugs it off. On the highway back to Phoenix, Charlie and Bella are quiet, both lost in their own heads, when Charlie shouts and BANG! the car swerves to the shoulder of the road and comes to a sudden stop... </em></span><br />
<br />
Chapter 8 playlist selection: Home by Michael Bublé <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Bella POV <br />
<br />
<br />
"God, damn it!" Charlie yells as he slams the car door after inspecting the tire. "That tree limb tore the tire to shreds." He waves his hand toward the crushed wood on the highway behind us, shaking his head in frustration. <br />
<br />
I lean across the center console of the car, peering at him through the driver's side window. "Sorry, Dad. I didn't even notice it in the road." <br />
<br />
"I didn't either, Bells. It appeared out of nowhere!" Still shaking his head and glowering at the debris, he makes his way to the metal storage bin in the bed of his pick-up truck. I twist around in the passenger seat, watching as he unlocks the compartment, retrieves a jack, tire iron, battery operated spotlight, and two road flares. Officer Swan - always prepared for emergencies. <br />
<br />
"Need any help?" <br />
<br />
He rolls his eyes and scoffs at my offer, knowing I'd be useless instead of helpful. "Why don't you go sit over by that boulder - out of the way." He points to an outcropping of rocks near the tree line, away from the shoulder of the road. "I'll only be a minute or two, and then we'll be back in business." <br />
<br />
"I'll just wait in the truck instead." <br />
<br />
"It's too dangerous to sit in a parked vehicle on the side of the highway with cars flying by you at eighty miles per hour." <br />
<br />
I glance in both directions, assessing the amount of traffic on the highway at this time of night. Nothing. Not one fucking car in sight. We haven't passed anyone for several miles. I decide not to give him any shit right now, not wanting to argue. We'd already had one hell of a night. I turn and walk through the gravel toward the pile of rocks and sit on top of a large, level boulder. <br />
<br />
Charlie ignites the road flares and situates the spotlight before he sinks to the ground and proceeds with changing the tire. I keep a watchful eye for any sudden, rush-hour traffic whizzing by us on this desolate stretch of highway at one-thirty in the morning. Still nothing. As he is replacing the lug nuts, I hear a twig snap just beyond the trees behind me. An uncomfortable chill rushes down my spine, and I feel the tiny hairs on the back of my neck raise in alarm. <br />
<br />
A faint murmur echoes from somewhere in the forest, and I whip my head around, nervously searching for the owner of that bone-chilling voice. An involuntary shiver runs through my body and I am overcome with the urge to run. <br />
<br />
"Hello?" I whisper toward the forest, my heart pounding furiously in my chest. "Who's there?" <br />
<br />
"Okay, Bells! Tire's changed. Let's get a move on!" Charlie calls to me as he dusts off his jeans and tosses his equipment back into the metal bin. <br />
<br />
I make one last glance at the dark woods along the roadside, but I don't see or hear anything more. The creepy sensation is still lingering, so I quickly hop off the rock and dart toward the truck, climb into the passenger seat, and lock my door. Charlie looks at me questioningly, but I just shake my head and stare at the floorboards. He reaches over and squeezes my hand gently for a moment before twisting the key in the ignition and putting the truck into gear. <br />
<br />
"Let's get out of here. Alright?" <br />
<br />
I nod, let loose a deep sigh, and rest my head against the window, closing my eyes for a second or two... <br />
<br />
<br />
~*~*~*~*~ <br />
<br />
"Sweetheart, we're home," Charlie says softly as he rubs my left arm. "Wake up." <br />
<br />
I open my eyes, blinking a few times to help get my bearings. Recognizing the neighborhood park at the entrance to our road, my eyes begin to fill with tears as we make a right onto our street, and are greeted by the cheery, colorful mailboxes that line the left side of the drive. The Barkers. The Dunlaps. The Knights. The Masens. <br />
<br />
A sob erupts from me as we approach their house - dark and empty. Elizabeth's flower garden is in full bloom, vibrant Verbena and Salvia sprinkling life throughout the desert landscape. Ed Senior's patrol car and Edward's truck sit in their driveway, abandoned. And Renee on their porch... <br />
<br />
Wait! Mom? <br />
<br />
"Ah, shit, Renee," Charlie mutters to himself. He shifts nervously in the driver's seat as he pulls into our driveway two houses down. Releasing a deep, sad sigh, he admits, "I didn't get ahold of your mother earlier. The call went to the answering machine. She doesn't know yet." His pained eyes look into my shocked ones, and I am immediately unsure if I'm going to be able to handle this confrontation tonight. I thought he had softened the blow earlier when he was on the cell phone, but apparently not. This is going to be horrible. <br />
<br />
"Charlie!" Renee yells through the night, sprinting from the Masens' yard toward our house, and meeting us in the driveway. "So? What happened? Why didn't you call when you got on the road? I was so worr-" <br />
<br />
Charlie interrupts, trying to usher my mother into the garage, "Renee, let's go insi-" <br />
<br />
She continues, "I fell asleep watching reruns of Seinfeld, and the next thing I know, I'm awakened by flashing lights and car doors slamming. I peeked through the windows and saw three cop cars pull out of Liz and Ed's driveway!" <br />
<br />
"I know, honey. C'mon, let's go-," he tries again, guiding her toward the kitchen door. <br />
<br />
"So then I run out the door, trying to wave down the officers, but they were already at the end of the street and didn't see me. I walked over the Liz and Ed's house, trying to peek into the windows, but I couldn't see anything this time of night. Ed should really invest in those sensor flood lights, because they real-" <br />
<br />
"RENEE!" <br />
<br />
My mom shuts up at the sudden sharp tone of my father's voice and looks up at him with furrowed brows. Charlie escorts her inside, practically manhandling her like a prisoner. <br />
<br />
I stay behind, not wanting to follow my parents into the house as my dad rehashes all the details of our evening. <br />
<br />
I suddenly feel awkward standing in the middle of the garage, as if I don't belong here, in this house. Not that I feel unwelcome, but that it's not where I belong. It's a strange feeling, confusing, especially since I grew up in this house. This is the only home I've ever known, but I feel it holds nothing for me anymore. <br />
<br />
Home is where your heart is, they say. Edward is, or was, my heart, but if he's no longer with me in this world, then where does that leave me? Homeless? The closest I could come to being "at home" would be wherever Edward is, but since there is no way I'm going to kill myself, I'm left with only one other option to be as close to him -to home- as possible. The Masen House. <br />
<br />
Through the screen door of the kitchen, I see Renee crying, her loud wails pouring into the silent night air. Watching my mother break down from the news, I let my own tears fall as I see my father hugging her tightly and offering soft apologies like he did for me earlier tonight. I lean back against the front of my mother's car, burying my face in my hands as my body shakes from the turmoil and sadness that's running its course through me. <br />
<br />
After a moment or two, my mother barrels out of the screen door and clutches me in her arms. She's bawling, soaking my already damp shirt with her tears. I grab onto her tightly, hoping her embrace will wash the pain away, but it's no use. Her whispers of condolences pass over me, doing nothing to soothe my heartache. There's only one person that will douse the flames of that, and he is rotting away in a morgue somewhere. <br />
<br />
Charlie tries to corral us back into the house, our cries getting louder by the second. "C'mon, ladies. Let's get inside." <br />
<br />
"No. I'm not going," I rasp, weakly pushing my father's arms away. <br />
<br />
"Bella, baby," Renee coos. "Your dad is right. C'mon inside." She wraps her arm around my shoulders, nudging me toward the kitchen door. <br />
<br />
"No." <br />
<br />
My father huffs in exasperation and leaves my mother to tend to my stubbornness alone in the garage. <br />
<br />
"You're home now, sweetie. You're safe." She sniffles and wipes her nose with the bottom of her tee-shirt. "Come inside and sit with me on the couch." <br />
<br />
"This... This isn't home for me anymore, Mom. Edward is my home." Another round of sobs wrack through me, and once I contain my cries, I continue, "I need to be with Edward, Mom. I'm going to the Masens." <br />
<br />
Her eyes widen with fear and she reaches to grab onto my arms to keep me from running. She probably assumes I'm going to off myself in Edward's bedroom or something else completely absurd. "Bella? No. Don't..." <br />
<br />
I plead with my eyes for her to understand. When she shakes her head 'no', I resort to desperate begging, "Please, Mom. I want to go home." My voice cracks on the last word, my chin quivering uncontrollably. <br />
<br />
Charlie, thankfully, has been listening to us from the kitchen, and comes to calm my mother's worries. He pulls her against his chest, burying her face against his shoulder, and tells her that I just want to be alone with the memory of Edward. He continues to whisper to her, reassuring her that he will check up on me every hour. Charlie gives me a wink and slow head nod, indicating that's it's okay for me to go, and I turn to run toward the Masens' house. <br />
<br />
I stagger across the lawns, my vision blurred from my tears, until I'm standing in front of Edward's truck in their driveway. I grip my hands tightly onto the tailgate, using it to support my body so I can catch my breath. I feel like the wind has been knocked out of my lungs, the weight of my emotions are starting to suffocate me. I hold onto the edges of the truck as I make my way to the other side, closer to the front door of their house. <br />
<br />
As I reach the porch, I fumble for the keys that I put into my pocket before Charlie and I left for the cabin... Edward's keys. I slip the silver key into the lock and push open the door. <br />
<br />
"GWWAAAAAAKK!!" <br />
<br />
Jesus, shit! I forgot about the bird. <br />
<br />
"Sorry, Carrumba," I mumble, closing the front door behind me. Leaning against it, I take several deep breaths, attempting to wrangle my emotions. It doesn't really help. A large lung full of Elizabeth's favorite scented candle floats through the house, permeating it with memories of her. <br />
<br />
I wipe my face with my hand, exhale deeply, and push myself away from the door. Walking toward Carrumba's cage, I glance inside it to assess her food status. There are a few beans and plenty of birdseed, so I decide to forego her dinner-time feeding - since it's nearly three in the morning - and replenish her bowls in the morning. I yawn loudly, the constant plummet of events of this horrific day finally catching up with me. Turning toward the stairs, I toe off my shoes in the living room, strip my shorts from my body in the hallway, and climb up to Edward's bedroom in only my tee-shirt and underwear. <br />
<br />
The emotional numbness that seems to come in waves has returned, and I glance around the room, resigned. He's gone. There's nothing that I can do to change that, but I refuse to let him go. I know that at some point in my life I will have to move on. He would have wanted me to be happy and have a family of my own. But, that's unfathomable right now. The pain in my heart is so new, so sharp, that I can't even begin to imagine my future without him. He is a part of me, whether he's living or dead, and right now, my mind can't wrap around that fact. It's too muddied with a constant war between denial and acceptance. <br />
<br />
I slide between his soft jersey sheets, breathing in his familiar scent, and cry myself to sleep, clutching his pillow to my chest. <br />
<br />
<br />
~*~*~*~ <br />
<br />
I spend most of the next morning in Edward's bed, fighting the tears that threaten to spill from my eyes over the devastating turn of events from last night. I still don't know how I have any left in my body to cry out. I toss and turn, trying to settle myself down enough to go back to sleep, but it's fruitless. <br />
<br />
My eyes begin to gaze around his bedroom. His autographed team penant for the Diamondbacks is proudly nailed to the wall next to his closet and an oversized poster of some blonde bimbo leaning over the hood of a Porsche is taped to the back of his door. Typical male. The shadow boxes that hang on his wall next to the bedroom door display his prized bug captures. I flashback to four years ago, and to the brilliant smile on his face when he brought me into his room, pointing to his collection's newest addition. <br />
<br />
"It's a Diplocentrus spitzeri, Bella." Edward looked from me back to the hideously large scorpion tacked to the back of the frame. "I've been searching for one of these babies for a while!" <br />
<br />
I groan and flop over to face the window. His bookcase is now in my line of sight, and the plethora of entomology journals and a framed picture of us at prom just twists the serrated knife in my heart a little bit more. I squeeze my eyes shut and clench my jaw, willing the tears not to fall. The faint sound of a television catches my attention, and I reluctantly crawl out of bed and slip into some of Edward's pajama pants hanging from the footboard. <br />
<br />
The smell of fresh brewed coffee drifts up the stairs as I head down toward the living room. There's no one on the couch, so I move through to the kitchen, again finding nobody. <br />
<br />
"Hello?" I call out into the empty space. <br />
<br />
"Hey, honey. I'm in here." <br />
<br />
Charlie sticks his head out of the home office door and nods for me to come inside. As I get to the doorway, I notice papers strewn about, file cabinet drawers open, and my father holding a thick file in his hands, thumbing through the documents inside. <br />
<br />
"What are you doing in here, Dad?" <br />
<br />
"Well, since the investigators were here last night, ransacking the place, I thought I would come and try to pick up a bit." <br />
<br />
I bend down to pick up a file of Edward's old school report cards and attendance certificates from elementary school. I smile to myself when I find the class picture from Mrs. Fields' second grade class - the only class were in together as kids. <br />
<br />
Charlie continues, "But I've also been looking for Ed and Liz's wills. I can't find anything in this mess." He gestures to the room and shakes his head, reaching for his coffee mug on the desk. <br />
<br />
"What do you need their wills for?" <br />
<br />
"I, uh, need to tell the coroner's office what their wishes were - buried or cremated." Fuck. That's not what I was expecting him to say, but it's good to know at least one of us has a level head considering the major pit of fucked-up-ness our lives have been thrown into. I was thinking about their property and stuff... not burial preferences. "I'm sorry, baby. I should have waited until you went back home to look for them." <br />
<br />
I take a shuddering breath and try to change the subject. "What time did you get here this morning?" <br />
<br />
"Um, well, I came over after your mom fell asleep - around four." <br />
<br />
"You've been here all morning?" I glanced over at the clock on the wall, noticing it was nearly eleven-thirty. <br />
<br />
He smiles sheepishly, "Yeah, well, I couldn't sleep, and I just wanted to make sure you were going to be okay. When I first checked on you, and found you sleeping in Edward's room, I decided to come downstairs and straighten up a bit. Three pots of coffee later, you come down the stairs. I haven't even noticed the time." He glances up at the clock again, then back at me, and sighs. "I should go back over to the house now. Why don't you get dressed and come home. I know your mother needs you home to hold her together." <br />
<br />
"I know she does, Dad. I just can't leave here just yet." This is my home now, I think to myself. <br />
<br />
"Maybe she'll want to come over here to spend some time with you, but I don't know if she'd be able to deal with being in their house so soon. You know?" <br />
<br />
I smile weakly at him, turning to walk back into the living room. Carrumba has been quiet since I woke up this morning, and I wonder if she senses that something is off. I approach her cage, watching her climb against the bars of the enclosure and jingle her little bell toy. <br />
<br />
"Hi, Carrumba." <br />
<br />
She stops playing and hobbles on the perch toward the front door of the cage. As I release the latch, she holds on as the door swings open and clangs against the outer side of the bars. She climbs up to the jungle gym on the roof of the cage and begins to preen herself. <br />
<br />
"Isn't it going to fly away?" my dad questions as he emerges from the office. "I don't want to chase it down if it gets loose outside. I don't even know how to take care of a damn bird." <br />
<br />
I wrangle her food and water bowls from inside the enclosure and turn to face Charlie. "Lucky for you, Dad, I'm going to take care of her. She's my bird, now." <br />
<br />
Charlie looks at me disapprovingly for a moment before he turns toward the office again. "I just wish I knew where the hell their papers are," he mumbles softly. <br />
<br />
After I've fed Carrumba, I poke my head into the home office, checking on my dad's clean up progress. He's elbow-deep in a pile of appliance warranty information, grumbling to himself, when I suddenly have an idea. "Hey, Dad! I might know of another place to look. I'll be right back." <br />
<br />
He nods and shuffles through another file as I make my way down the hall toward the master bedroom. The door creaks slightly as I enter, and I feel along the wall for the light switch. The curtains are drawn closed, so I walk toward the large picture window that overlooks the backyard and open them, allowing the bright Arizona sunlight to shine inside. Their bedroom has always been immaculate - bed made and dresser tops cleared, the total opposite of Edward's room. I trail my hand across the taupe-colored silk bedspread as I make my way to their closet. Wrenching open the levered door, the first thing I see are the two large garment bags hanging in the corner of the closet - their vampire costumes. I smile wistfully to myself, remembering their Halloween party a few years ago. <br />
<br />
Ed greased up his forehead with face paint in order to make a dramatic widow's peak to replicate the look of Dracula. Elizabeth had tried wearing the plastic fangs, but said she couldn't eat the hors d'oeuvres with them in, so she claimed that she was a vampire with razor-sharp, normal-shaped teeth covered in venom. Edward had argued with her that vampires have to have fangs to suck the blood out with, not poison their victims. <br />
<br />
That was a heated discussion. <br />
<br />
I push through the garment bags and find what I am looking for - their "safety deposit wok". I grab the entire appliance and dart back to my dad in the home office. Charlie pulls off the lid and -low and behold- there is a thick envelope labeled "wills". <br />
<br />
Jackpot. <br />
<br />
"Thank God," he mutters. "I'll call the coroner's office and notify the attorney as soon as I get home." He kisses me briefly on the top of my head and rushes out of the room. "Hurry home, Bella!" he yells as he slams the front door on his way back to his home. <br />
<br />
I drag myself back to Mom and Dad's house for some clothes and other necessities. Renee is waiting by the door like a lonely puppy, and her face lights up the moment I step inside the front door. Before I can stop her, she has her arms wrapped tightly around me and is crying into my shoulder. I fight the tears again, not wanting to breakdown right now. I hold her for a moment or two, before I wrangle myself from her grip and break the news to her that I'm only there for a few minutes to collect some of my belongings to take to the other house. She tries to argue and plead for me to come back home, but I can't be living here right now. I just... can't. <br />
<br />
An hour is the most that I can stay in my parents' home without crumbling into a sobbing mess, so Renee helps me gather my loot and kisses me on my forehead as I'm leaving through the front door. As I pass by Angela and Peter's house, I notice their father talking to Charlie over the picket fence separating the side yards. Charlie's head is hung down, his hands covering his face, and his shoulders are shaking. Pastor Weber has an arm on my father's shoulder as he's talking to him softly. I assume my dad just told him everything that happened last night. <br />
<br />
A few hours later, the sun has started to set in the sky, and I bring Carrumba into the kitchen with me while I scavenge for dinner. I place her on the table top and turn to dig through the bare refrigerator. I microwave a half bag of pizza rolls and sit at the table, sharing pieces of the delicious snack with my new pet. We are stuffing our mouths - or in Carrumba's case, her beak - when the door bell rings. She wipes her beak on the placemat as I head toward the living room. <br />
<br />
I lean up onto my tip toes to look through the peep hole of the door, but I can't see anyone. Soft cries are muffled through the thick wood, and I immediately recognize it as Angela. I carefully open the door and find her crumpled against the edge of the door frame, crying into her hands. The sight makes my knees buckle, and instantly we are both sobbing and grasping on to one another. <br />
<br />
"I'm so sorry, Bella," she rasps, hugging my body tightly. "It's so terrible!" <br />
<br />
I let my tears fall on the shoulder of the only best friend I have left. "I don't know what I'm going to do, Ang. He was my whole life." <br />
<br />
We fall back into another round of sobbing and hugging, until we are both cried out and completely emotionally drained. <br />
<br />
"Hel-lo?" A soft, perfect mimick of Edward's voice is heard in the doorway, and Angela and I both jump at the sound, startling Carrumba. "GWAAKK!" <br />
<br />
She flaps her wings franticly, but I reach my arm out for her to climb onto my hand, and bring her to stand on my leg. "Sorry," I whisper to her, patting down her ruffled feathers. She climbs closer to me and peeks around my body to look at Angela. "Yeah, she's sorry too, Carrumba." <br />
<br />
We laugh lightly and decide to get up from the porch and go back inside just as the house phone started ringing. <br />
<br />
"Are you going to get that?" Angela asks, quirking her eyebrows toward the cluster of electronic devices sitting on the counter. <br />
<br />
"No, it's probably someone calling to give their condolences, and I just can't handle any more of that tonight." <br />
<br />
She nods just as Liz's voice answers on the machine. <br />
<br />
"Hi! You've reached the Masen's. We can't come to the phone right now, so leave us a message!" -BEEP!- <br />
<br />
"Uh, hi, Mr. Masen. This is Tony from B&E Jewel-" -BEEP!- <br />
<br />
Angela whips her head around to look at me, silently questioning why I hit the disconnect button on the machine. I shrug and shake my head, not really caring who it was. If it was important, they'll call back. Thank God it wasn't the local news station or any more police detectives wanting more details. I couldn't handle any of that shit right now. <br />
<br />
We clean up the kitchen and head into the living room. Angela pops in a DVD; I'm grateful it isn't a tragic love story or violent movie. Disney's Mary Poppins is perfect. I always wondered what happened to my copy of it. He was a closet Disney fan. <br />
<br />
Halfway through the movie, Carrumba climbs into her cage, yawning loudly as she settles into her favorite spot on the perch. By the time the credits are rolling, Angela and I fall asleep on the living room couch, snuggling throw blankets and decorative pillows. <br />
<br />
Friday morning, Angela and I are startled awake by the sound of a loud knocking at the door. I shuffle over to it, fumble with the lock, and squint into the ridiculously bright morning sun when I open it. <br />
<br />
"Uh, Miss Masen?" <br />
<br />
A quick intake of breath, and I nod furiously. I'll never be referred to by that name ever again, so I had better relish in his mistake now. <br />
<br />
"Y-yes, that's me." <br />
<br />
"Please sign here, miss." The delivery man hands me a clipboard and a pen, and I purposely sign "Bella Masen". I smile sadly to myself as I hand the clipboard back with a shaky hand, and retrieve the small box addressed to Edward Masen. What is this? <br />
<br />
"Have a great day, Miss Masen." The man smiles broadly at me and turns to jog back to his truck. <br />
<br />
Turning back to the living room, Angela is sitting up and rubbing her eyes, yawning. "What's that?" <br />
<br />
"I don't know." <br />
<br />
"Well, are you going to open it?" She quirks an eyebrow at me as I carefully sit the box on the coffee table and gently lower myself to the couch. <br />
<br />
Without any further encouraging from her, I rip into the package, and find a flat gift box inside. We stare at the unopened gift box as it sits in front of us on the coffee table like it was going to do a magic trick or something. I've never felt right about opening someone else's gift. You just don't do that. Liz would consider that to be rude. But curiosity is driving me crazy, so I snatch the box off the table and hold it tightly to my chest for a moment before slowly cracking open the lid. <br />
<br />
Inside is a beautiful, delicate necklace. The smooth, shiny texture of the platinum infinity symbol pendant was breathtaking. Angela grabs the invoice, claiming that it was designed by the customer: E. Masen and purchased with Ed's credit card. Who knew Ed had such nice taste? <br />
<br />
"It must have been for Liz's birthday. She would have been forty-four next week," I whisper, my voice trembling slightly. <br />
<br />
Angela pulls the necklace out of the box and holds it out to fasten around my neck. <br />
<br />
"I can't wear this!? It's Liz's!" I shriek. <br />
<br />
"Bella, I don't want to sound insensitive, but she's not going to need it." <br />
<br />
"But it's just wrong, Ang. Ed designed that for her." <br />
<br />
"Well, if she was to give it away to someone... say, in a will... who would that have been? Hmm?" She quirks an eyebrow, and nods once when she notices my silent admission that Liz would probably hand the pendant down to me later on - if she were still alive. <br />
<br />
Silently, I turn away from her and pull my hair up, allowing her access to fasten the necklace around my neck. We glance in the decorative mirror above the couch and admire the way it fits perfectly against my skin. <br />
<br />
"It's like it was made for you, not Liz. She was a little bit bigger than you, so it would have been like a choker on her." <br />
<br />
I nod my agreeance and turn to Angela, hugging her fiercely. She's such a wonderful friend. <br />
<br />
~*~*~**~*~ <br />
<br />
Charlie and Renee pop in from time to time during the next few days. Both of them have only been working a few hours each day; Renee says that the salon is just not the same without Liz's cheerful smile, and Charlie claims the department is a really somber place and if he spends too much time there, he just gets more and more depressed. When they visit me, they bring food, movies, and a few of my books to read, but neither of them can stand to be in the Masens' house for too long. Too many memories. <br />
<br />
Angela and Peter spend some time with me, too - laughing, crying, and reminiscing on the good times we all shared with Edward. One day, Angela finally convinces me to wash the piles of musky clothes on Edward's bedroom floor. I cry as I carry them down to the washing machine, wailing even harder as I pour the laundry detergent into the water, sad that his scent will be gone forever. Angela holds me while I cry with each load, but she sticks by my side until the whole room is laundered. <br />
<br />
As I put the last load in the dryer, I remember Edward's duffelbag from the cabin. I sprint up the stairs and rummage through his closet, finding it stuffed in the corner on top of his shoes. I heave it onto the bed and notice that a few items fall out of the bag and onto the floor. Gathering them up, I put them in the nightstand drawer to cry over later tonight when I go to bed. God, I miss him so much. Pulling myself out of my depressing thoughts, I yank all the worn clothes and smelly socks from the bag and toss them into a hamper. I head back down the stairs to start the next load of laundry. <br />
<br />
~*~*~*~**~ <br />
<br />
It's been nearly two weeks since the crime scene was discovered, and each passing day seems to get a little bit easier. But the nights... the nights are the worst. Every evening I take a shower using his body wash and shampoo. The smell brings back the memories of running my fingers through his chaotic hair and snuggling against his chest as we watched movies on the couch. I even imagine the damn loofah as his hands - softly caressing my skin as they travel all over my body. Eventually, I slip into a pair of his pyjama pants and a teeshirt - sometimes even a clean pair of boxer briefs - and crawl into his bed, crying myself to sleep.<br />
<br />
Tonight, as I'm snuggling under the covers, I remember the trinkets I put in the nightstand drawer. Already a blubbering mess, I wipe my eyes on the edge of the pillow case and wrench open the drawer. I reach in blindly and my hand grasps his watch. Pulling it out and looking at it closely in the light of the bedside lamp, I frown. I never really liked this watch, but it suited Edward perfectly. It was created for the avid outdoors man: built-in compass, temperature gauge, and waterproof, but the gaudy gold links made it look cheap. It was a gift from his parents for his birthday last year. You'd think after eighteen years, they would know that their son never wore yellow gold.<br />
<br />
Another tear trails down my cheek as I clasp the tacky time piece to my wrist and reach into the drawer again. This time I retrieve his strawberry lip balm. I smile to myself, recalling Peter always teasing him for buying "chick Chapstick". Edward would shrug it off, knowing how much I loved the way it tasted on his lips. I twist the top off and bring it closer to my nose to sniff it. Just as I am about to smear it on my lips, I realize his lips were the last to touch it. A sob wracks through me as I lift my shaky hand and make a gentle pass with it against my lips. Kiss me, Edward. I move my lips against one another, imagining they are his that are touching mine.<br />
<br />
I carefully put the cap back on and toss it back into the drawer. Reaching for a tissue to blow my nose, I notice his phone and a tattered notebook. I grab the phone, mash the power button, and set it next to me on the bed, giving it time to power up. Grabbing the notebook, I notice the worn edges and frayed remnants of paper stuck in the metal binding coil. There are several figure-eight designs scribbled onto the front cover. Some have other shapes in the center of it, and others have lines drawn from the ends. Bored with Edward's heiroglyphics, I flip through the first several pages, noting some random drawings and sketches of bugs. Skipping through to the middle of the book - where most of the frayed edges are - I notice... poetry?<br />
<br />
Edward didn't do poetry. Men don't write that sissy shit, he used to say.<br />
<br />
I read a few lines of his writings... Oh. My. God...<br />
<br />
His wedding vows.SweetVenom69http://www.blogger.com/profile/16891131791448534680noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2259876397494509092.post-60586877163295108132010-04-23T19:30:00.002-04:002010-09-16T14:22:31.306-04:00Chapter 6Playlist selection: <i>Wicked Woman</i> by Coven<br />
<br />
Edward POV<br />
<br />
<br />
"Hey, Mom!" I yank the minivan's door open, climbing into the passenger seat. "Where's Dad?"<br />
<br />
"He's running a few minutes late, so we're going to meet him at the house."<br />
<br />
"Oh."<br />
<br />
"Actually, I need to pick up a few more snacks for Carrumba, so we're going to run to the grocery store on the way."<br />
<br />
I nod and shove my backpack to the floorboard as she pulls out of the school's parking lot. The minivan is loaded down with our camping gear, or what my mother considers camping gear; a portable hammock, lounge chairs, fashion magazines, and a handful of DVDs. Our cabin is fully furnished; complete with two bedrooms, equipped kitchen, and basic satellite service. Mom can't 'camp' without a television. Give Dad and me a couple of fishing poles and two sleeping bags, and we're good. <br />
<br />
Several moments later, we pull into the shopping plaza and she parks the car at the far end of the lot. I give her a confused look, silently asking why the hell we parked out in B-F-E when there are plenty of open spaces closer to the store.<br />
<br />
Answering my silent question, she says, "I don't want anyone to break into the car and steal our stuff, Edward."<br />
<br />
I scoff and shake my head. She's a fucking nut-job sometimes. Who would want to steal our crap?<br />
<br />
Once inside, Mom grabs a hand basket and turns toward the produce section.<br />
<br />
"Oh, I almost forgot! Your dad wants to take some cereal with us. Can you grab him a box, and I'll grab the fruit and veggies?"<br />
<br />
"Yeah, okay, sure. I'll just meet you back here at the check outs in a couple minutes."<br />
<br />
She smiles and scurries over to the opposite side of the store as I head in the other direction, scavenging for breakfast items. <br />
<br />
I haven't eaten cereal in years. Breakfast consists of eggs and bacon or sausage, maybe a few pancakes, if Bella's around. But cereal is for kids and grandparents. I grimace as I stroll down the aisle, fingering boxes of all the various kinds; plain flakes, toasted oats, fruity wheels... Jesus! Why couldn't there be one box of cereal, dressed in nondescript, white cardboard with black lettering, stamped with ACME on the label? Shit! I don't know what the hell kind of cereal my dad eats. I snag the first box of fiber enhanced squares and snicker at all the 'old man' comments I can tease him with. Turning to head back to the check outs, a familiar, childhood character catches my eye. Mom used to buy it all the time, and I remember seeing Dad sneak a few bowls in once in a while, so I know he'll enjoy it. I toss the box of wheaty oats back onto the shelf, and snatch up the kids' cereal. <br />
<br />
Mom is already in line at the check out, placing her bags of produce on the conveyor belt. "Hey, hon. What did you find?" She takes the cereal box from me and glances at the cartoon face on the box.<br />
<br />
"Count Chocula?" She looks at me incredulously, then bursts into a loud guffaw.<br />
<br />
"What?" I chuckle along with her. "You guys love vampires."<br />
<br />
"Very funny, Edward," she chides and pats my hand condescendingly. "Your father will enjoy that. Oh! Speaking of vampires, have you seen this?"<br />
<br />
She passes me a black book with a picture of arms and fruit on the cover. "What's this? Another trashy romance novel?"<br />
<br />
Smacking my arm lightly, she steals the book from my grip, handing it to the checkout girl. "No, it's not a trashy romance novel, Edward. It's about a vampire and his struggles to not kill his human girlfriend. It's the hottest book out there nowadays. It's called Tonight. Haven't you heard of it?"<br />
<br />
I shake my head 'no'.<br />
<br />
"Well, Bella's probably heard of it. Maybe I'll lend it to her when I'm done reading."<br />
<br />
"Whatever, Mom." I roll my eyes and take the plastic bag of groceries, heading toward the exit door. Women...<br />
<br />
At home, I unload the food onto the kitchen counter so Mom can pilfer through the items and pack them into the ice chest. I grab my backpack and head toward the stairs. A flash of sunlight is reflected off a passing car's windshield and through the living room. "Mom, Dad's home!" I yell, watching as his cruiser pulls into the driveway. <br />
<br />
I take the stairs two at a time and plow through my bedroom door, tossing my backpack into the corner unceremoniously. I grimace as I survey my room, cursing myself for being such a fucking slob. Bella will have a field day with this mess. A twinge of guilt bubbles inside me, knowing once she sees the chaos in here, she'll spend all weekend cleaning it. I can't have that. She should be partying her ass off this weekend at someone's graduation party, not washing my underwear. <br />
<br />
Stepping over several articles of dirty clothes, I make my way toward my desk and tear out a page from an old spiral notebook. Scribbling a quick note for Bella, I tack it to the mirror above my dresser and turn to meet my parents downstairs. <br />
<br />
As I reach the door, I stop as I get a sense that I've left something important behind for this trip. I make a quick, mental inventory of my packed supplies; solar lantern, fishing poles, my latest copy of American Entomologist magazine, and my favorite 'spank-bank' picture of Bella in a bikini from our trip to Florida last summer. Yep... everything I need is packed.<br />
<br />
I glance around my room, looking for anything that I may have missed. When my eyes fall upon my mirror, I smile at my love note. <br />
<br />
BugABoo- <br />
I know you miss me. <br />
Quit cleaning!! <br />
See you Sunday. <br />
Love, <br />
Edward <br />
<br />
I trip over my old gym shoes as I stumble toward the dresser. Placing a kiss to my fingertips, I reach my hand toward the paper and press my fingers to the message, transferring my love to my little BellaButterfly. <br />
<br />
Leaving my room, I plunder down the stairs and spend a few moments with Carrumba, rehearsing some new words I've been teaching her.<br />
<br />
Unlatching the door to her cage, I reach into the opening and raise my hand for her to climb onto. I bring her out and place a quick peck to her beak as she mimics the sound of a chaste kiss. She ruffles her bright green feathers and yawns widely.<br />
<br />
"Say BEL-LA. BEL-LA."<br />
<br />
Silence.<br />
<br />
"C'mon... BEL-LA. BEL-LA." She quirks her head at me, then leans down to pull on a loose string on my shirt sleeve. <br />
<br />
Damn.<br />
<br />
"Alright, Edward. Let's get a move on! I want to get there before dark," Dad yells from the kitchen as he's hauling the ice chest out to the minivan.<br />
<br />
"Yeah, okay. I'm coming." I give Carrumba a quick smooch on her beak again, tell her to be a good girl for Bella this weekend, and place her back in her cage. I give her a brief wave as I exit the living room, heading into the garage.<br />
<br />
"BUH-BYE!" she squawks.<br />
<br />
~*~*~*~<br />
<br />
A few hours into the drive, we pull off the highway and into a truck stop. Mom rushes inside to use the facilities, Dad pumps the gas, and I decide to send Bella a little text message, just a tiny reminder that I love her and I'll miss her. Not that there's a chance in Hell that she'd ever forget me, or vice versa. We'll never be apart anyway, so it's a moot point. <br />
<br />
A moment later, she replies with a snarky comment, telling me she doesn't miss me, but I know she does. She always tells me how lonely she is when we're apart. I counter her text with another sappy, lovey-dovey one, imagining the sparkle in her eyes and the way she bites her lower lip to prevent her wide grin from spreading. She's so beautiful when she smiles.<br />
<br />
My parents pile back into the car, and we set out onto the highway again. I send Bella one last text before I lose cell phone service, telling her to have fun this weekend and that I'll see her on Sunday. I kiss the picture of her on the screen of my phone before I power down and slide it into my dufflebag. <br />
<br />
<br />
Just before sunset, we arrive at the ranger's station, and Dad checks us in. He chats with one of the guys at the desk for a moment or two before we are back on the road, heading toward the cabin. <br />
<br />
We pull up in front of the rustic-looking cottage and Mom hops out, making a beeline for the front door. She makes quick work of opening all the windows and doors, airing out the place, while Dad and I bring in our luggage and supplies. <br />
<br />
Mom directs us with a wave of her hand as she holds the screen door open. "Just put the food cooler in the kitchen, guys. I'll work on putting stuff away and get started on dinner." <br />
<br />
"Awesome! I'm starved. What are we having?" I smile and rub my belly eagerly.<br />
<br />
"Well, Charlie gave us a couple of packages of ground bear meat, so I thought I'd make some chili?" She vollies a look between my father and I, gauging our reaction.<br />
<br />
I shrug, not really caring what we eat. "That's fine. Just let me know when it's ready." <br />
<br />
I turn and drag my dufflebag toward my room and toss it on the bed. Carefully opening the drawers to the dresser, I keep a watchful eye for any bugs hiding out inside. Not that I mind the bugs at all, but I just don't want to unload my underwear on top of a venomous scorpion. I can't have one of those things attacking my junk. Seeing that the coast is clear, I fill the drawers with my clothes and toss the empty bag in the closet. Remembering my picture of Bella stuffed inside my AE magazine, I flip through it's colorful pages quickly and retrieve the photo, smiling as I notice it was resting on an advertisement for an entomology convention in Albuquerque. I toss the magazine onto the bed to read later, and stuff Bella's picture under my pillow to, err, look at tonight.<br />
<br />
Readjusting my crotch, I turn off the light to my bedroom and amble out to help Mom in the kitchen.<br />
<br />
<br />
~*~*~*~<br />
<br />
Thursday morning, I stir awake to the alluring aroma of bacon and the sound of someone clanking pans in the kitchen. I flop over onto my stomach, covering my head with the pillow to block out the early morning sun as it filters in through my window, but I leave a little gap for my nose to relish the smell of pan-fried pork. YUM! A few moments later, my stomach growls and I shrug out of the blankets, and stretch like a cat. I glance in the mirror, running a hand through my hair and grimacing at the nightmare of locks on top of my head. Grabbing a pair of basketball shorts and tank top, I shuffle out of my room and into the bathroom down the hall to take care of my morning ritual. <br />
<br />
Freshly showered and hungry as a motherfucker, I make my way to the kitchen and find Dad sitting at the table alone.<br />
<br />
"Hey, Dad."<br />
<br />
He quickly glances up from his latest issue of Field & Stream and back down, turning the page. "Morning." <br />
<br />
I stack my plate with bacon, scrambled eggs, and toast, and plop down in the seat across from my father. Halfway through my breakfast, Dad asks if I want to join him fishing this morning. I agree, of course, anxious to try out my new fishing equipment my parents got me for graduation. <br />
<br />
After breakfast, we fill a bag with sandwiches, drinks, and Bella's fuckawesome cookies, and pack up the minivan. We send a quick wave to my mother, lounging in her hammock under the shade of the trees, reading her vampire-nonsense novel, as we speed down the rocky, dirt path toward the lake.<br />
<br />
The windows are open, and the wind is gusting through my hair, making it more of a disaster zone. I don't give a shit. It's just me and my dad - the boys club, as we used to call the times he and I would hang out alone. These are the times that I can belch and scratch myself as needed and not have to say 'excuse me' or try to be discreet when I have to take a piss. I can just turn my back and whiz. We talk about manly stuff like cars and fishing, or guns and sports; none of the emotional lovey-dovey stuff. Not that I hate the sweet romantic things, not at all. I love doing that shit with Bella, but it's more like when a woman says she just needs a 'girl's day' with her friends. Well, this is a 'guy's day', and I'm fucking stoked.<br />
<br />
Dad pulls into the open space near the lake, and we unload the back of the van, sprawling our supplies over the tiny beach. As we prep our lines to cast out into the water, my dad suddenly grows a vagina. <br />
<br />
<br />
"Edward?"<br />
<br />
"Yeah, Dad?" I move further toward the shore, finagling with the pole's reel.<br />
<br />
"I just wanted to tell you how proud your mother and I are of you."<br />
<br />
I whip my head around to look at him as if he's just admitted he's pregnant. "Uh, thanks?" For some reason, my response to his praise comes out in the form of a question. <br />
<br />
"You have grown into a very smart, caring, and compassionate young man, son."<br />
<br />
I swallow thickly. Edward A. Masen Senior is not the type of man to get all soft and heartfelt for no reason.<br />
<br />
He continues, "And I hope you continue to grow and become the strong, responsible, and loving husband that Bella will need you to be."<br />
<br />
"Oh, Dad! You're not going to give me the 'birds and the bees' talk again, are you?" I roll my eyes at him, silently begging for him to drop the discussion.<br />
<br />
"No, no. I just wanted to tell you that I love you very much, and I am honored to be your father, Edward."<br />
<br />
Well, shit. What does one say to that?<br />
<br />
"I, uhh... I mean, umm, thanks, Dad. That really means a lot." I stare at him in shock, or disbelief, or confusion... I don't know. He's never been the kind of guy to give a sentimental speech. Honestly, I'm in awe of what just happened. Fuck! I hope he's not about to drop a bomb on me. "Uhh, Dad? Is everything okay?"<br />
<br />
"Yeah, everything is fine. I just thought that I should tell my son how I feel, to let you know how much of a wonderful man you've grown up to be."<br />
<br />
I nod my head, acknowledging all that he's saying, but still a little weirded out about the entire conversation. After a moment of testing the line on the fishing pole and mulling over all the things he's said, I peer over my shoulder at him, watching as he situates his lounge chair in the sand. I put my pole down on the beach and touch his shoulder as he turns to face me.<br />
<br />
"Thanks, Dad. I love you, too." I wrap my arms around my father's shoulders in a man-like hug, clapping him a few times on the back.<br />
<br />
Seconds later, once the hug-fest is over and our vags have disintegrated, I snatch my pole from the ground, press the release lever, and cast the lure far out into the lake. Now, let the boy's day begin... bring on the fish!<br />
<br />
~*~*~*~<br />
<br />
On Friday, I spend the morning hiking the trails above the cabin, searching for spruce aphids or loopers, insects that are blamed for the destruction of the beautiful fir trees of the White Mountains. Wandering off the cleared paths, I scrounge the underbrush of the forest; uprooting fallen logs, over turning stones, and stabbing at loose soil clumps in the earth. Not satisfied with my discovery of a small mound of termites and a few black widow spiders, I continue my quest, finally managing to snaggle two bark beetles and an elusive, wooly aphid. I was excited as hell about that last one. <br />
<br />
The sudden squeal of the two-way radio attached to my hip causes me to trip and stumble against a pine tree, and I drop one of my specimen cups.<br />
<br />
"Motherfucker!"<br />
<br />
Thankfully, the lid was on securely and I didn't lose my tiny, winged prisoner.<br />
<br />
I snap the walkie-talkie from my waistband and mash the button, screaming into the mic, "Jesus! You scared the crap out of me, Mom! Quit hitting the whistle and just talk into it instead, okay?" Fucking-A!<br />
<br />
"Sorry, sweetheart. I didn't mean to startle you. I just wondered if you were on your way back for lunch? Your father wants to go into town and get a chicken salad sandwich from the deli, and wondered if you want one too. Over."<br />
<br />
I roll my eyes at the absurdity of her questioning me about chicken salad. I fucking hate that mushy shit.<br />
<br />
"No, Mom. I'll just make a sandwich with the cold cuts you brought to the cabin, alright?"<br />
<br />
"Okay, dear. So, are you on your way back yet? Over."<br />
<br />
I glance down at my watch, surprised it's already a quarter 'til one in the afternoon. "Yeah, I'm on my way."<br />
<br />
"I'll tell your dad to go ahead without you. Okay. Copy that, my little leech lover. Over and out."<br />
<br />
I can't help but to roll my eyes and chuckle at my silly nickname. Leave it to my parents to combine my love for bugs and their fascination with blood-sucking vampires, making it a term of endearment.<br />
<br />
Starting down the trail, I estimate it will take about forty-five minutes to get to the cabin, so I decide to take a shortcut through the forest, hopefully cutting my time in half. A half mile down the hill, I spot two deer in a small clearing. I silently creep toward them, careful to not make any noise to scare them. As soon as my foot touches down on the edge of the tree line, the mother fucking walkie talkie blares into the peaceful wilderness again. <br />
<br />
"Oops! Sorry, dear! I was just wondering if you were almost back at the cabin? Over."<br />
<br />
The deer leap off into the brush on the other side of the meadow, leaving me to contemplate throwing the damn electronic device against a nearby tree stump. I take a deep breath, reeling in my aggravation and let it out slowly through my mouth.<br />
<br />
Once I've beaten down my frustration, I respond back in the most pleasant voice I can muster, "I will get there in another ten minutes or so, Mom."<br />
<br />
"Okay, darling. I'll set up the picnic table and make you some lemonade."<br />
<br />
"Fine. See you in a few."<br />
<br />
I switch off the power and reclip it to the waistband of my shorts. Tentatively stepping into the small meadow, I survey the fringe, looking for any more deer lurking in the shadows. At the far end of the clearing, there's an outcropping of boulders, large and gray, with portions covered in soft-looking moss. I stride over to check it out and notice a conveniently situated stone, about hip high, and flat enough that I can imaging Bella's beautiful, naked body sprawled across it, her skin practically glowing in the bright Arizona sun. I can't wait to bring her back here, as my wife, and make love to her in the middle of nature. God, what an awesome idea.<br />
<br />
I turn to leave the meadow and notice partial view of the lake at the base of the mountain. A gentle breeze whips around me, carrying the scent of pine and grass with it. There is something magical about the forest. Now, living in the arid desert around Phoenix is nice, but I've always wanted to live some place filled with ferns pelted by rain, white-capped mountains in the distance, and the ocean nearby. That would be Heaven to me, as long as Bella was by my side, too.<br />
<br />
I spend the rest of the day with my parents watching DVDs and talking about all the changes happening this summer; my wedding, moving to Tucson, starting college. Mom gets a bit misty-eyed a few times, but thankfully manages to keep her emotions under control. I go to bed early, claiming the heat of the day and my long hike have worn me down, but really I just want to be alone with my girl. Uhh, well, with the picture of my girl, I mean.<br />
<br />
Saturday starts off the same as Friday, a delicious breakfast - courtesy of Mom - and a hike in the woods. This time Dad comes with me while Mom snuggles in her hammock, book in hand, sipping some lemonade. We are gone for most of the day, trekking to Mogollan Rim and back, when we radio to Mom, letting her know we'll be home shortly for dinner. She yells at Dad for going so far out of walkie talkie range, and he calms her down with apologies and promises to buy a longer ranged set next time. Then she turns her nagging toward me, bitching about my clothes all over the place, and how Bella will not be my personal maid in Tucson. I tease her about her new, teenage book fetish, and we all laugh. Typical Masen family behavior: Mom complains, Dad kisses her ass, and I make a smartass comment to break the tension.<br />
<br />
We make it back to the cabin just as Mom is setting the table. We enjoy a quiet evening together, recalling the fish we caught yesterday and the herd of elk we spotted on the hike today. Mom listens with rapt attention, living vicariously through our adventures and shuddering at the mention of the four foot rattle snake we crossed paths with near the lake. I turn in early for the night, eager for tomorrow morning to arrive and start our trip home, and back into the arms of my wife-to-be. <br />
<br />
~*~*~*~<br />
<br />
"...so lovely. "<br />
<br />
A sweet voice whispers in my ear, but I'm not sure if it's part of a dream or reality. I haven't climbed back into consciousness yet, so it must be a disembodied voice in my dream. Laying still, I wait for the sound to return, but it doesn't. The only thing I notice is the faint scent of vanilla and bergamot, sweet and fruity, and wonder if I'm remembering Bella's body lotion, or if Mom is trying to infuse the house with potpourri again. <br />
<br />
I slip back into deep sleep easily, returning to my dream of surfing in Hawaii, but now I'm being circled by man-eating sharks, swirling faster and faster, creating a maelstrom that sucks my surf board down it's vortex.<br />
<br />
"Whaddya say, handsome? Wanna come home with me?" the voice giggles from farther away.<br />
<br />
Now, there's a woman standing on the ocean floor at the bottom of the whirlpool, smiling at me with outstretched her arms, inviting me to her. It looks like Bella, but I'm not sure. Her hair is long and wavy like Bella's but her voice is different and it's too dark at the bottom of the sea to tell. The woman reaches out to me, touching my cheek softly. Her skin is cold and hard, not like the soft and warm skin of my fiancée. My heart rate picks up, and I feel uneasy, but I can't seem to tell why. The woman seems happy to see me, wanting me closer, luring me in with a wiggle of her finger. <br />
<br />
"Who are you?" I ask, my voice mumbled.<br />
<br />
Her smile gets wider as she takes a step toward me. Sharks are still circling around us, snapping their teeth at me as they come closer.<br />
<br />
"Me? Well, I'm your creator, sweetness," she coos, reaching closer to me and gripping my chin firmly with her frozen fingers, forcing me to look in her eyes. "And you will be my mate."<br />
<br />
I look at this crazy, undersea woman as if she's spoken Japanese with a German accent. Surely, she knows I am engaged to be married. There is no other woman for me than Bella.<br />
<br />
"You're absurd. Bella is my 'mate', and there's nothing you can do to change that. We're getting married in a couple of weeks." I glower at her as the wall of water starts to close in on us, the razor-sharp teeth of the sharks coming closer.<br />
<br />
"You're wrong, my precious," she says, slowly dragging her fingers down my neck and chest, hooking into the waistband of my shorts and pulling me against her body. "You belong to me." <br />
<br />
My breathing increases, and I feel a strange sense of unease wash across me as I stare at this crazy woman. Suddenly, she narrows her eyes at me, contemplating something and then vanishes, leaving me at the base of the vortex alone. The sharks have vanished too, and I wonder if this is my one chance to escape. I pick up my surfboard and head toward the wall of water, hoping that I can ride the upswing toward the surface when I hear a loud, blood-curdling scream.<br />
<br />
But it's not the dream woman's high pitched voice, nor is it Bella's. It sounds like... it sounds like Mom.<br />
<br />
I am jolted awake by another ear-piercing screech, but it's quickly cut off as a loud thud is heard from my parents' room. <br />
<br />
"Mom? Dad?"<br />
<br />
Nothing. <br />
<br />
I ask again, louder, "MOM?! DAD?!"<br />
<br />
The only sound from my parents room is a muted, childish chuckle.<br />
<br />
I toss my blankets to the side and scramble out of bed and toward the hallway. My door is open, which is odd, because I know I closed it when I went to bed. I take a few steps into the hallway, ready to knock on my parents' door to make sure everything is okay, when their door swings open and something grabs me by my throat.<br />
<br />
"Where do you think you're going, sweetness?" A woman's shrill echoes throughout the cabin. It's too dark for me to get a good look at her, because all I can concentrate on is the iron-grasp around my neck. She's strong, holding me captive with one hand, and walks me backwards toward my room.<br />
<br />
"Wha-Wh-..." I can barely breathe, much less speak.<br />
<br />
"Shhhhh," she tries to soothe me. "No questions yet, my precious, there will be plenty of time for that later."<br />
<br />
I struggle to breathe and remain upright as she easily lifts my body higher, leaving only my toes touching the floor. As we cross the threshold into my room, I grab the door jamb, halting her briefly. She sighs, letting go of my throat, allowing me to practically fall to the floor, but she scoops me into her arms.<br />
<br />
"I wouldn't let you fall, sweetness. I won't let anything hurt you... for all eternity," she snickers at her own joke.<br />
<br />
I claw at the door jambs, knocking my dresser mirror off kilter, desperate to escape her clutches. She pulls me closer against her chest, inhales a deep breath, and releases a low, feral-sounding growl from her throat. Suddenly, I'm tossed onto my bed and she's straddling my lap.<br />
<br />
"Don't try to fight me, sugar. You will only hurt yourself." She runs her hand gently along my cheek and jaw, leaning down to place a few kisses against my lips. Her mouth is cold and hard like icicles; her long, wavy hair shrouding her face from the moonlight streaming in from the window.<br />
<br />
I wrench my face away from hers, and she sits up, annoyed. "I told you not to fight me, boy." She scoots down further, straddling my thighs. Cupping her hand firmly against my junk, she snarls, "I'll take what's mine, if you won't give it up willingly. You'll end up like your parents if you can't behave."<br />
<br />
"MOOOOOM!! DAAAAAD!!" I scream.<br />
<br />
"Don't waste your breath, sweetness. They were collateral damage," she shrugs and encircles my wrists with her hands, pinning them to the pillow. "Well, actually, they were kind of like my appetizer... so I wouldn't kill you, my precious." She smiles innocently, as if what she's said makes perfect sense. <br />
<br />
What the hell is she talking about? She's fucking psycho!<br />
<br />
"Who the fuck are you?" I roar, struggling under her tight grasp.<br />
<br />
"I told you who I am, but you don't have to worry about any specifics for a few days, sweetpea." She grinds her pelvis against my crotch. "You'll be my mate, and we will have all the time in the world for talking and, uhh, other things." She giggles.<br />
<br />
I continue to struggle against her grip, but she just smiles at me, patiently waiting for my acquiescence. Once I'm exhausted, I give in. I'm never going to escape from this woman... this thing. She's alien, unhuman, and for some stupid reason, I need to know what she is.<br />
<br />
"What are you?" I whisper in defeat.<br />
<br />
Relishing my surrender, she leans toward my ear and whispers seductively, "I'm a vampire, sweetness, but you can call me Victoria."SweetVenom69http://www.blogger.com/profile/16891131791448534680noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2259876397494509092.post-90175851456847992462010-04-23T19:30:00.000-04:002010-09-16T14:22:31.306-04:00Chapter 5Playlist selection: <i>Anxiety</i> by Black Eyed Peas & Papa Roach<br />
<br />
Bella POV <br />
<br />
I toss the covers to the foot of the bed and throw my arms out to grasp onto Edward's body. I'm so happy he's finally home, and I just want to cradle him to me, kiss his mouth, and breathe in his scent. But, the body that sits next to me on the bed is not my fiance's, but my father's. My sudden movements practically knock him to the floor. <br />
<br />
Charlie? What's he doing here? <br />
<br />
“Whoa! Got a hot drink in my hands, Bells!” My father scolded as he lurched from the bed, holding the mug away from his body. <br />
<br />
I look at Charlie, confused. “Dad? Wh-Where’s Edward?” <br />
<br />
He sighs. “He’s not here, honey. We haven’t heard from them yet.” He sits the ceramic cup on the nightstand and wipes the spilled liquid from his hands onto his pants. Clearing his throat, he continues, “I take it that you didn’t hear from them last night either, huh?” <br />
<br />
“No,” I whisper, shaking my head slowly. He will be there, I tell myself. He has to be there. <br />
<br />
Tears collect in my eyes again, and I furiously blink, attempting to keep them from spilling. I slump down onto the mattress, inhaling deeply and praying that I can muster enough control to prevent a break down. <br />
<br />
After a moment of awkward silence, Charlie says, "C'mon, honey. Your mom is making breakfast... and you need to get ready for graduation." I nod, but don’t offer a reply, afraid if I open my mouth, I will scream or cry. <br />
<br />
I find my cell phone tangled within the blankets of the bed and notice there’s no response from Edward. I send him a quick text, begging for a reply, a phone call, a fucking smoke signal… anything! Slapping my phone shut, I reach for the mug of tea and shuffle toward the bedroom door. <br />
<br />
Downstairs, Carrumba is causing a ruckus in her cage. She has upturned her metal water bowl and is dragging it across the bars of the enclosure like a prisoner in from an old movie. <br />
<br />
“…GWAAAWWK! Hel-lo. Doo-doo-DOOOO!...” <br />
<br />
“Mornin’, Carrumba,” I mumble as I pass her cage, heading for the kitchen. She stops squawking and eyes me through the bars as I gather her food, a wooden cutting board, and a knife. <br />
<br />
The silence in the house is deafening, so I resort to talking to her while I’m assembling her snacks. <br />
<br />
“What’s going through that little bird brain of yours, huh? Are you wondering where your family is? Are you missing your beloved Edward as much as I am?” <br />
<br />
As I am slicing through an apple, I inadvertently cut my finger. “Mother fucking cock-monkey!” <br />
<br />
“MON-KEEEEE!” <br />
<br />
Shut up, bird. <br />
<br />
Sucking the drop of blood from my finger, I grimace at the metallic taste and wonder how wild animals can relish the flavor of a fresh kill. I couldn’t do it. I’d be the only vegetarian lioness on the prairie. <br />
<br />
I replenish Carrumba’s food dishes and clean up my mess in the kitchen. Glancing at the clock, I notice that it’s nine o’clock and I have to be at the graduation venue at 11:30. <br />
<br />
Slipping on my flip flops, I wave good-bye to Carrumba and exit through the front door, locking the dead bolt. As I trudge across the front lawn, I attempt a call to Edward’s phone. The connection rings once and then his voicemail picks up. My chin quivers at the sound of his silky voice and I dab my eyes, ridding them of the collected moisture. <br />
<br />
"Bella!" <br />
<br />
I turn to see Angela, her hair in curlers and barefoot, calling me from the front door of her house. She asks if I've heard from the Masens yet and I tell her 'no' and that I am extremely worried. Tightly wrapping me in a hug, she says a prayer for their safe return, and gives my shoulders one final squeeze before holding me at arms length and looking into my eyes. "He'll be here, Bella. I just know it." <br />
<br />
Giving her a small smile, I tell her that I will see her later and turn to continue through the yard and over to my house. <br />
<br />
<br />
~*~*~*~ <br />
<br />
Our classmates are gathered in the backstage area of the US Airways Center in Phoenix - the venue for our graduation ceremony. With nearly eight hundred seniors in our class, we needed a large arena to accommodate the graduates and their families. <br />
<br />
During rehearsal yesterday, we were instructed to pair up with a "walking buddy" for the processional as we enter the arena and take our seats on the main floor. Angela paired up with Ben, and Peter chose Charlotte, of course. Naturally, Edward would be my buddy, but I have a sinking feeling that I will be walking alone. And to make matters worse, the school administrators have opted to allow buddies to sit together throughout the entire event, instead of separating us into alphabetic order. Now, it seems I will be sitting by myself too. <br />
<br />
"...going to Andy's party tonight?" <br />
<br />
"My parents got me a..." <br />
<br />
"...heard back from ASU..." <br />
<br />
The lively voices of my classmates drone on like a distant thunderstorm. Their words rumble around me, muted, and don't make much of an impression. I can't concentrate on any of their conversations. My thoughts are distracted by a boy with emerald eyes, a wicked case of bed head, and the softest lips on the planet. <br />
<br />
"...and I are staying at the..." <br />
<br />
"Cancun, here we..." <br />
<br />
"...plans for the summer?" <br />
<br />
I look up at the boy standing behind me. He smiles, then redirects his attention to his blue graduation gown. His long fingers press against the polyester fabric, trying to iron out the wrinkles. I watch as they travel back up toward his head and adjust the tassel. <br />
<br />
"...Edward..." <br />
<br />
At the sound of his name, I whip my head to look at the squinty-eyed girl to the boy's left... his walking buddy. I think her name is Christine. <br />
<br />
"Huh?" <br />
<br />
"I said, 'Where's Edward?' I haven't seen him." <br />
<br />
"I, uhh, I don't know." <br />
<br />
"I thought I saw him over by the refreshment table," the boy said. "He's friends with Peter Weber, right?" <br />
<br />
"YES!" I shout, turning to frantically look for Edward in the direction of the reception area. I sprint from the group I was standing near toward the lobby doors and spot Peter as he nibbles on snack mix from the refreshment table. "Pete!" <br />
<br />
"Hey, Bells. You ready for this?" he asks, gesturing to our caps and gowns. <br />
<br />
"Yes and no," I shrug. He nods, popping a pretzel into his mouth. <br />
<br />
"Uh, Pete? Where did Edward go?" <br />
<br />
Peter furrows his brows. "Edward...? He's here? Where?" He cranes his neck around, looking for his best friend. <br />
<br />
"Someone told me that they saw you and Edward talking a few minutes ago..." <br />
<br />
"No. I haven't seen him since last week, Bella. You know that." <br />
<br />
He still isn't here. The roller coaster of emotions was really starting to mess with my head. Elation, disappointment, anxiety, and overwhelming dread have been wreaking havoc on my heart the last few days, leaving me feeling exhausted and weak. <br />
<br />
I practice deep breathing, trying to calm my fears, as I return to my position near the end of the line of students. My hands are shaking slightly, and the sense of foreboding is threatening to overtake my body. Deep breath in... Deep breath out... <br />
<br />
One of our teachers claps her hands to gain our attention and instructs us to get into formation. As the first sounds of Pomp and Circumstance begin, my chin begins to tremble, and I lose the battle to control my tears as one slips down my cheek. Christine notices my silent sob and envelopes me in a hug, assuming that I'm emotional over the significance of the day. Glancing toward the front of the line, I notice Angela staring at me as I try to regain my composure. She breaks away from Ben and runs to me, gripping me in a quick hug and whispering, "He'll be here," and runs back to her place in line. <br />
<br />
As the class of 2010 walks through the doors to the main floor of the arena, I can barely focus on my surroundings. Shouts and whistles from family members can be heard from every direction, but I mindlessly follow the couple in front of me. As we walk down the aisle and break off to our assigned rows, Christine slides into the seat next to me. <br />
<br />
"NOOO!" I slap my hand down on the metal chair, preventing her from sitting down. "This is Edward's seat... he'll be here." Christine furrows her brow, shrugs, and sits in the next seat." <br />
<br />
The school's principal scampers onto the stage and introduces the panel of guest speakers behind him. The Salutatorian and Valedictorian deliver their generic speeches, claiming this time as the beginning of our lives and all the opportunities that are in our future... blah, blah, blah. I can't pay attention to their incessant babbling. Nervously looking around, I pray that I will spot Edward sneaking into the arena and searching for me. But my prayers go unanswered. <br />
<br />
Lifting the skirt of my graduation gown, I rummage in the pocket of my dress slacks and pull out my cell phone. Christine notices my fidgeting and I glance at her, seeing her frowning at me. I roll my eyes, muttering that she should mind her own fucking business as I type out a quick text to Edward. <br />
<br />
WHERE R U? <br />
I'M IN THE LAST ROW. <br />
HURRY UP!!! <br />
<br />
The house lights dim and a slide show of pictures of students and events from our senior year is projected onto the oversized screen above the stage. Ushers stand at the end of the rows of students, signalling our turn to stand and exit the main floor to maneuver backstage. Before my row is called, I climb onto the seat of my chair, surveying the stands for my parents... and hopefully, Ed Senior and Elizabeth. No luck. I make a slow circle on the seat, nearly losing my balance, as I search the exit doorways and dark recesses all around the main floor for any sign of Edward. <br />
<br />
Nothing. Dammit! <br />
<br />
"C'mon, Edward, please!" I say to myself, not caring if anyone around me hears my desperate plea. <br />
<br />
As my row is escorted toward the backstage area, my hands begin to shake and I feel the prickling of tears forming in my eyes again. Where the fuck is he? I clench my jaw, grinding my teeth and tap down the threatening emotions. Deep breath in... Deep breath out... <br />
<br />
I vaguely notice the voice of our principal booming over the mic, announcing the graduates' names. <br />
<br />
"...Janet S. Chandler..." <br />
<br />
"...Ryan B. McCormick..." <br />
<br />
"...Aaron J. Parcovich..." <br />
<br />
Maybe they are stuck in traffic, or can't find a parking spot... <br />
<br />
"...Allison M. Nelson..." <br />
<br />
"...Benjamin S. Cheney..." <br />
<br />
Maybe Edward is rushing through the arena's lobby, looking for the best entry onto the main floor. <br />
<br />
"...Angela J. Weber..." <br />
<br />
"...Andrew B. Castillo..." <br />
<br />
Maybe he's standing next to the stage, waiting until his name is called to rush to the podium and receive his diploma. <br />
<br />
The line begins to move forward, and I mindlessly follow the person in front of me, winding around the backstage area in an S-formation. Peter and Charlotte peer back at me from their place in line with sad smiles. I return their smile and wring my hands together, fighting off the shakes again. Something is wrong, I just know it. <br />
<br />
My stomach is twisting, and I swallow the sudden reflux of bile in my throat. <br />
<br />
Maybe he's... maybe he's dead. <br />
<br />
"...Charlotte J. Keane..." <br />
<br />
"...Peter W. Weber..." <br />
<br />
No. No, he's not dead. He can't be dead. He's just... late. <br />
<br />
"...Christopher M. Yochem..." <br />
<br />
"...Lindsey A. Thompson..." <br />
<br />
My sandals clang against the metal stairs that lead to the stage. The red-haired girl standing in front of me steps around the curtain and into the spot light, crossing in front of the podium. <br />
<br />
"...Isabella M. Swan..." <br />
<br />
There's a nudge at my back and I whip around to jump into Edward's arms, but find myself staring into Christine's blue eyes. <br />
<br />
"That's you, Bella." She waves her hand toward the stage. "They just called your name." <br />
<br />
I slowly turn toward the curtain opening, moving one foot in front of the other, and come out onto the stage. Glancing at the panel of school administrators and guest speakers, suddenly I feel dizzy. The combination of my overwhelming emotions and the blinding spotlight causes me to lose my direction, and I stall midway to the podium. I look behind me, momentarily, hoping to see Edward next in line... but he's not there. I whirl around and scan the perimeter of the stage, but I don't see him anywhere. Tears spring into my eyes, and my chin begins to tremble. Principal Adams is smiling brightly at me and holds out his hands; one with a scroll, tied with a blue ribbon, and the other for me to shake. <br />
<br />
"Congratulations, Miss Swan." <br />
<br />
Robotically, I reply, "Thank you." <br />
<br />
I continue to the opposite side of the stage as the tears fill and blur my vision, my stomach knots and my heart begins to pound in my chest. <br />
<br />
"...Edward A. Masen..." <br />
<br />
His name forces the tears to fall, and I stop at the top of the descending stairs, turning to look behind me. Is he here? Has he shown up? <br />
<br />
Principal Adams repeats, "Edward A. Masen?" <br />
<br />
No Edward. <br />
<br />
He continues, "...Christine J. Brightman..." <br />
<br />
I stumble to the bottom step, gripping the handrail to steady my suddenly weakened knees. With my vision impaired, nausea coming in waves, and legs threatening to give out on me, I stagger to the first row of students, clutching the chair backs as I try to return to my seat. <br />
<br />
He didn't make it. <br />
<br />
Sobs erupt from my chest as I fight to return to my chair. My legs give away, causing me to collapse against the cool, concrete floor. My fellow classmates are probably wondering what the fuck is wrong with me, but I don't care. The only thing that matters is Edward, but he didn't show up. How could he do this to me? <br />
<br />
Paranoia rises in me, once again. Did he beg his parents to allow him to skip graduation because he didn't want to see me? Did he meet someone else while they were camping? He wouldn't do that to me, would he? <br />
<br />
Voices are shouting, and confetti and graduation caps are falling around me, but I can't seem to give a damn. My whole world is fading away, and these dumb, teenage dip-shits are celebrating? <br />
<br />
"Noooooo!" I yell, or whisper... I can't even tell anymore. How could he do this to me? If he wanted to leave me, why would he humiliate me at graduation? Couldn't he wait until afterward, when we were alone, to break my heart and destroy my soul? <br />
<br />
Unless... <br />
<br />
Unless something horrible has happened. <br />
<br />
"Bella?" Angela's panicked voice rings through my ear. "BELLA!" <br />
<br />
"I've got her, Ang." Charlie's voice is closer and eerily calm. His strong arms pull me to my feet and hoist me into his arms, bridal-style. "It's going to be okay, Bells. Let's get you home." <br />
<br />
<br />
~*~*~*~*~ <br />
<br />
<br />
I punch the button on the car door handle to roll down the backseat window. The warm breeze is soothing. My father raises his voice to speak over my loud sobs, "I'm going to drive to Apache County and meet up with one of my friends from the sheriff's office. I'll call him on the way and ask if he'll meet me at the national forest's ranger station. We've got to figure out what's going on." <br />
<br />
"I- I- I'm going w-with you." <br />
<br />
"No, Bella. I want you to stay with your mother in case they call... or come home." <br />
<br />
My shaky voice is stronger now. "No, Dad. I'm going with you." <br />
<br />
He ignores my declaration and turns to my mother, "Renee, when we get home, help Bella upstairs and get her into a bath or something. Get her to calm down somehow." <br />
<br />
"NO, DAD. I. AM. GOING. WITH. YOU!" <br />
<br />
"Bella, I need you to help your mom call hospitals, and someone needs to stay home in case they show up." <br />
<br />
Now I'm getting angry. The love of my life is missing, and he wants me to sit at home and make phone calls? No fucking way. <br />
<br />
I've gone from hysterically crying to screaming, "Would you want to sit around and make phone calls if it was your wife missing? Would you want to wait for someone to call or show up? No. You wouldn't. Well, neither do I. I am NOT sitting here waiting. I am going with you to find my fiancé, Dad." I huffed and crossed my arms across my chest, stubbornly refusing to give in. No. Fucking. Way. "Besides, if I don't come with you, then I will just take Edward's truck to go look for him." <br />
<br />
Charlie stews over my outburst, glaring at me in the rearview mirror with narrowed eyes. "Fine." <br />
<br />
"Fine." <br />
<br />
We arrive home, and I dash into the house, making a quick trip to the bathroom, and then to my room, packing an overnight bag. When I get downstairs, Renee is sitting at the computer in the kitchen, pen and paper in hand, and writing down hospital names and phone numbers on a legal pad. <br />
<br />
"Bella, you guys be careful. Do you have your phone charger for the car? Can you call me as soon as you get there?" <br />
<br />
"Of course, Mom. Thank you for not making me stay here. You know I would go insane." <br />
<br />
She smiles and kisses my forehead. "I love you, babydoll." <br />
<br />
"Love ya, too." <br />
<br />
I enter the garage and find Charlie rummaging through his gadgets, tossing items into his daunting, yellow tackle box... knives, rope, and flashlights. I climb into the passenger seat of the truck as he runs into the house for a moment and returns with two gun cases - one containing a .45mm Glock and the other, his sharp-shooter rifle. <br />
<br />
"Don't you think that's a little extreme, Dad?" <br />
<br />
"You never know," he mutters, more to himself than to me. "Now, let's get on the road." <br />
<br />
Renee wears a sad smile as she steps outside, waving goodbye, as we pull out of the driveway. <br />
<br />
An hour or so into our journey, and I'm fed up with the country music station blaring in the car; I reach for the volume knob and twist it. Charlie cocks me an eyebrow, silently asking, "What's up?" <br />
<br />
"Dad?" <br />
<br />
"Yeah, Bells?" <br />
<br />
"Um... What do you think is going on?" <br />
<br />
He releases a heavy sigh and grips the steering wheel tighter. "I don't know, hon." <br />
<br />
Silence ensues as we sift through the scenarios in our heads. Could they be injured and in a hospital? Maybe a gang of gypsies kidnapped them, holding them for ransom... or maybe they are lost in the wilderness of the national forest. Oh, God! What if they went hiking, and they all slipped and fell into a hidden cave, and they are screaming out for help!? What if Renee calls to tell us that they've returned home, each wearing embroidered Mickey Mouse ears from Disney World, and they simply lost track of time, forgetting all about graduation today!? <br />
<br />
Yeah, I know that last thought was ridiculous, but fuck it... I'm starting to lose my mind! <br />
<br />
Charlie flips the turn signal on and exits the highway, decelerating on the exit ramp. He pulls into a gas station and hands me a twenty dollar bill, asking me to get him a combo meal from the fast food restaurant next door while he pumps the gas. I return several minutes later, juggling super-sized sodas and a large bag of fatty, greasy goodness and slip into the passenger seat of his car. <br />
<br />
"...uh huh... right... We'll be there in another two hours... No... Just meet us at the ranger's station... Okay... great... Yeah, thanks, Randy." <br />
<br />
"Who was that? Your deputy friend?" <br />
<br />
"Yeah, uhh, he's going to meet us at the ranger's station." <br />
<br />
I nod, situating the food bag between us on the center console of the car and securing my seat belt. Charlie exits the gas station and turns onto the on ramp of the highway. As he merges into traffic, he clears his throat nervously. <br />
<br />
"So, um, Bella? I, uh... I filed a missing persons report for them." <br />
<br />
The muscles of my neck fail, and my head falls forward. Tears form in my eyes again, and suddenly the chicken sandwich in my hand has lost all it's appeal. I wrap it up, shove it back into the bag and turn to gaze out of the passenger side window. Rolling it down, I rest my elbow on the sill and prop my head up with my hand. My left hand is clawing into the fabric of the seat as I try to ward off another round of inconsolable crying. <br />
<br />
Charlie pats my knee awkwardly, unsure of how to handle delicate situations, especially when it comes to me. <br />
<br />
"I'm sure there's a logical explanation as to what's going on, Bella. I just thought we should do it because this is unusual behavior for any of them." <br />
<br />
"Yeah..." My voice is meek and muffled by my hand. <br />
<br />
He turns up the music again, using it as a distraction for himself, but it doesn't matter to me. My mind is a whirl of torment. So many questions, so many possibilities, and one overwhelming sense of dread. <br />
<br />
Two hours later, we arrive at the ranger's station of the Apache National Forest. Charlie helps me out of the car, wrapping his arm around my shoulders and pulling me against his side for support. Escorting me into the building, he leads me to a wooden bench against the wall, then turns to the reception desk. <br />
<br />
A young blonde man, wearing a muted green uniform shirt and dark pants, approaches my father at the desk. "Can I help you, sir?" <br />
<br />
"I'm Charlie Swan. I spoke with Ranger Tomlinson this morning, and I'm meeting an Apache County Sheriff's Deputy here." <br />
<br />
The young man nods as two muscular men emerge from a glass-walled office. <br />
<br />
"Hey, Charlie!" the taller man calls from behind the reception desk as he walks to greet my dad. They shake hands and Charlie turns to introduce me to Officer Randy Baker. I offer an unenthusiastic, sad smile from my bench. Someone clears his throat, and Randy snaps his head to the other man. "Oh! And this is Ranger Tomlinson." He points to the short, balding gentleman behind him and Charlie exchanges introductions again. <br />
<br />
"So, uh..." My dad looks warily over his shoulder at me, probably judging my current emotional breakdown level. "Can we talk in your office?" <br />
<br />
"I'm coming too!" <br />
<br />
Ranger Tomlinson and Randy appear shocked at my sudden outburst, and Charlie sighs. <br />
<br />
"Bells, why don't you wait here, while we discuss-" <br />
<br />
"I said I'm coming with you. We are looking for my fiancé and his family. You will NOT leave me out of the loop!" I fold my arms across my chest and march up to the reception desk. "Well? Are we going to talk in the office, or not!?" <br />
<br />
Charlie looks into the amused faces of the two gentlemen and shrugs his shoulders. "You heard the woman... let's all talk." He waves his hand toward the office and ushers me around the desk, holding me close to his side with his arm around my shoulders again. <br />
<br />
Ranger Tomlinson flops down into his worn office chair as Charlie and Randy sit in the metal folding chairs across the desk. I stand out of the way, leaning against a bookcase near the corner of the room, and admire a detailed map of the national forest that hangs on the wall behind me. The three discuss the entry logs from the station, as well as strange occurrences in the area. <br />
<br />
Randy points to a map underneath the plexiglass on the desk. "We've received reports of a mauled auto mechanic from Eager and a handful of break-ins noted in Springerville within the last week. That's really unusual in these little towns." <br />
<br />
"Mauled?" <br />
<br />
"Yeah, uhh..." Randy briefly glances in my direction, but proceeds with his statement. "Like he was attacked by some kind of wild animal... or a vicious murderer. " <br />
<br />
"Whoa," Ranger Tomlinson replies. <br />
<br />
"Really?" Charlie looks a little excited. "What kind of animal? A bear?!" <br />
<br />
Randy shakes his head and glances at me again. "Um, no. Well, he wasn't hiking or hunting, actually... He was in his living room." <br />
<br />
Collective gasps echo throughout the room as the four of us contemplate the possibilities of wild animals breaking into a house to eat the inhabitants. There is silence for a few moments before Ranger Tomlinson interrupts our musings. <br />
<br />
"There wasn't any evidence of an animal in the house? No tracks? Fur?" <br />
<br />
Randy shakes his head. "The strangest thing was that the body sustained such horrific injuries - a missing arm, flesh ripped from his neck, a crushed leg - but there wasn't any blood. It was like it all evaporated or... was sucked out." <br />
<br />
"Huh," Charlie replies, ever the articulate one. <br />
<br />
Ranger Tomlinson bows his head to stare at his boots. "Damn." <br />
<br />
A few more moments of silence ensues until Ranger Tomlinson looks up quickly at Randy, and then to my dad. "You know... now that you mention there wasn't any blood on the scene, we had an incident over the weekend with a few of our deer being killed, but no blood was found near the bodies, either. One of the rangers found a small grouping of them in a meadow near one of the camp grounds. They weren't mutilated like that poor guy up in Eager, thank God, but the four of them had large tears in their necks - right through the jugulars - but it was like they were drained and the carcasses left to rot. What kind of animal would do that?" <br />
<br />
I have had enough of this talk about savage animal attacks and am desperate to get to the bottom of why we were here. Edward. <br />
<br />
"Dad? Can we revisit this thrilling conversation at another time? We have to get up to the cabin." My legs are bouncing uncontrollably, and I am biting my nails, anxious to get to to bottom of our situation. <br />
<br />
Ignoring me, they continue the discussion for a few more minutes before Charlie confirms the route to the Masen's cabin. He continues to try to persuade me to stay at the ranger station while he and Randy "go have a look see". Being the stubborn female that I am, I refuse to be left alone while they traipse around the trails, looking for my fiancé. <br />
<br />
After standing my ground for what seemed like an eternity, I declare that they are wasting precious daylight arguing with me about going up to the cabin. I have been there several times throughout the years with the Masens and know it is a long drive along the trails. <br />
<br />
Finally, Charlie, Randy, and I climb into Randy's SUV and set out to search for our friends. <br />
<br />
For the next twenty minutes, I'm tossed around the backseat of the vehicle, thanks to the rough terrain and Randy's unfamiliarity of the roads. We emerge from the tree covered dirt path and pull up into the open front yard of the Masens' cabin. <br />
<br />
The sun is fading in the sky, and the shadows of the trees surrounding the clearing creep across the grass, shading most of the property. Elizabeth's hammock is still sitting on the far side of the lawn. <br />
<br />
"Dad..." My voice wavers as I point toward the lawn furniture and miscellaneous camping equipment that are sitting in their typical places. <br />
<br />
"I see 'em, honey," he replies grimly. "I don't see their minivan. Maybe they left to get more supplies and will be back in a little bit. Why don't you sit here by the SUV while Randy and I check things out, okay?" <br />
<br />
He doesn't wait for my response and leaves to join Randy as he walks up to the front porch of the cabin. They chat for a minute, and Randy walks out toward the perimeter of the clearing, flashlight in hand. Charlie starts toward the opposite side of the cabin, peering in windows and then checking out the equipment sprawled across the property - a gas grill, lawn chairs, two ice chests. Feeling completely useless sitting here and twiddling my thumbs, I decide to head into the cabin. <br />
<br />
Maybe there's a note, or some clue. <br />
<br />
While my dad is around the back of the cabin, I sneak onto the porch and use my t-shirt to twist the door knob - just in case they have to dust for fingerprints or something. Suddenly the weight of that thought registers in my head, and my chest begins to ache. That heavy sense of foreboding descends upon me, and I fight to swallow the bile again. <br />
<br />
I push the door open, noticing a slight musky scent, but it's not overpowering. "Hello?" I whisper into the empty living room. "Hellooo?" <br />
<br />
No answer. <br />
<br />
The cabin is sparsely decorated, so I don't notice anything missing or out of the ordinary. As I creep further into the room, heavy footsteps are pounding on the front porch. <br />
<br />
"I thought I told you to wait by the car!" Charlie yells, standing with his hands on his hips. <br />
<br />
"I have to do something, Dad. But I promise, I haven't touched a single thing!" <br />
<br />
That seems to appease him somewhat. He nods and heads off toward the small kitchen area. I move in the opposite direction, heading for Edward's room. <br />
<br />
I push open the door, immediately noticing the sweet smell of Edward. I inhale deeply, quickly feeling a sense of calm wash over me. Basking in his tiny room, I wrap my arms around my body, wishing they were his strong arms squeezing me tight as he places a tender kiss to my temple. <br />
<br />
I open my eyes and notice the dresser mirror hanging unhinged from one side. That's odd. The wood around the disconnected piece is smashed and splintered, and on the wall next to it, there seems to be scratch marks and a dried smear of something. Huh? <br />
<br />
Not giving it another thought, I back away from the mirror, bumping my thighs into the bed. I sit down on the mattress and smile to myself, remembering the tryst Edward and I had in this room when I joined the Masens on a camping trip two months ago. Bouncing a few times, I recall how squeaky the springs were that night and how we had to keep very quiet, as to not wake up his parents. <br />
<br />
Looking at the rumpled bedding, I whimper, remembering the way he held the sheet around his naked body as he walked me to the bedroom door, kissing me goodnight, before I tiptoed back to the open sofa-bed in the living room. God, Edward is sexy wrapped up in a sheet. <br />
<br />
Running my hands over the soft fabric, I can never forget the texture of it on my skin as I gripped it tightly during my orgasms that night... all three of them. <br />
<br />
Finally, I reach up toward the pillow, recalling Edward having to bite it during his climax, to prevent himself from groaning too loudly. My memories are halted by a dark stain down the side of the pillow and onto the fitted sheet below. I stand and pull the pillow closer to me, trying to get a better glimpse of it in the fading light streaming through the windows. After a moment of deciphering, a realization hits me and I gasp, wide-eyed, and toss the pillow back to the bed roughly. <br />
<br />
Things happen so fast after that - a loud, panicked wail comes from the room beside Edward's, Randy hollers from outside the cabin, and I release a piercing scream... <br />
<br />
"NOOOOO!" <br />
<br />
"OH SHIT! CHARLIE, COME QUICK!" <br />
<br />
"AAHHHHHH!" SweetVenom69http://www.blogger.com/profile/16891131791448534680noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2259876397494509092.post-71160334991492419492010-04-23T19:29:00.000-04:002010-09-16T14:22:31.306-04:00Chapter 4Playlist selection: <i>Lonestar</i> by Norah Jones<br />
<br />
Bella POV <br />
<br />
I'm pulled into consciousness by the piercing light of the Arizona sun shining through my window. My mouth is parched and the sheets cling to my body like a second skin. Why the fuck is it so hot in here? Blindly reaching toward the bedside table, I sweep my arm across its surface, searching for the ceiling fan remote control. I knock over a little bud vase, spilling water and the flower that Edward picked from his mom's flower garden to the floor. <br />
<br />
"Shit." <br />
<br />
I grab a discarded t-shirt from the floor beside my bed and mop the mess quickly. Tossing the soaked shirt in the general direction of my closet, I climb out of bed, peeling the sheets off and stripping the mattress. Finding a hair tie on my dresser, I pull my hair into a loose bun on top of my head and slip on a pair of denim shorts and my bathing suit top. I stagger to the door of my room and open it swiftly, praying that a cool gust of wind from the hallway will hit me square in the face and squelch this ridiculous heat. No such luck. <br />
<br />
"Mom?!" I yell from the landing at the top of the stairs. "MOOOOM!" <br />
<br />
"WHAAAAT?" Her voice echoes from downstairs. <br />
<br />
"What's wrong with the A/C?" <br />
<br />
"Broken!" <br />
<br />
No shit. Queue eye roll. <br />
<br />
"Is someone coming to fix it?" <br />
<br />
"Nope. Do you know how much they charge for weekend emergencies? Your father is working on it." Great. That means that it's not going to be fixed anytime today, and he'll break some crucial piece that costs more than the damn weekend fees. <br />
<br />
I dart down the stairs and through the kitchen, hoping to stop the madness before it truly starts. "Who gave him tools? You know he's not allowed to have any work tools!" <br />
<br />
Charlie, also know as 'The Great Destructo', has been banished from using ordinary shop gadgets to fix anything. He's a genius with weaponry and spackle, but he's a danger to himself with power tools and screwdrivers. <br />
<br />
"He borrowed them from Ed this morning. You know that I can usually convince him to call a professional before he gets going on a project, but he was already working on it when I got up this morning, so..." <br />
<br />
Ed? They're back? <br />
<br />
"They're back!?" My face breaks out into a face-splitting grin as I jog out of the garage, hoping to see their minivan in their driveway. <br />
<br />
"No. He just used the spare key and went into their garage," she yells from the kitchen. <br />
<br />
My smile is quickly replaced by a deep frown as I notice no recent vehicular activity at the Masen's home. I turn and shuffle back into the kitchen, heading straight for the fridge. After pouring myself a glass of orange juice, I stand in front of the kitchen window and make plans to occupy my time today. Feed Carrumba, check out a few florists with my mother, and finish my laundry. Speaking of laundry... Renee is mumbling to herself and rustling around in the laundry room, probably cursing the washing machine again. <br />
<br />
"Mom! I'm going over to feed the bird, then we can go to the flower shops this afternoon. Okay?" <br />
<br />
"Yeah, sure," she says, yelling over the loud clanking of coins being tossed around in the dryer. "Anything to get out of this sweatbox." <br />
<br />
I head up the stairs to find some flip flops and a t-shirt and grab my discarded bed sheets from the floor, shoving them in the laundry chute. "Look out below!" I shout, listening for them to hit the basket at the bottom and laughing when Renee starts cussing again. <br />
<br />
It's late morning and the intense sun is blaring down on my skin as I walk through the Weber's front yard, heading to the Masen's. Pausing at the front porch, I notice a faint sound coming from inside. No. No, it's not just a sound, but a voice. Edward's voice. The hell? <br />
<br />
I quickly wrangle the keys and burst through the door, startling Carrumba as she is perched in her cage. <br />
<br />
"GWAAAAAWK!!" <br />
<br />
"Sorry, bird." I scramble through the first floor, searching for the owner of that velvety voice I would know anywhere. "Edward?" <br />
<br />
Nothing. <br />
<br />
"Hello? Anyone home?" <br />
<br />
Nothing. <br />
<br />
Convincing myself I was hearing things, I shake my head quickly and enter the kitchen, looking for Carrumba's food supply. The house is quiet other than the sounds of my washing and chopping of fruits and veggies for the bird and occasional sounds of it clambering around in it's cage. I've always wanted to have a pet, but was always shut down by my parents. Renee is allergic to cats, Charlie doesn't want to deal with the dog poop in the backyard, and I refuse to clean the grime and sediment in a fish aquarium. The one pet we never considered was a bird until the Masens got one, and then we decided we could come over to visit it whenever we wanted to get our pet-fix and didn't have to deal with the care and clean up. <br />
<br />
Carrumba is a very quiet bird, at least when I'm around. I've only heard her make a few sounds, but Edward tells me she hardly shuts up. Maybe I frighten her. Hell, I'm more scared of her - what with the strong beak and sharp talons... <br />
<br />
Placing the slices of apple and a handful of whole peanuts in her bowl, I carry them over to her cage. She sits on the highest branch of her enclosure, eyeing me warily. I try not to pay much attention to her, not wanting to create a dive-bomb situation because she's annoyed by the sound of my voice or whatever. I replenish her water bottle and head back to the kitchen, cleaning up my mess. <br />
<br />
I find a pad of paper and pen in the junk drawer next to the pantry and write a quick note, letting them know that Carrumba was fed this morning and the dishes in the dishwasher are clean. Leaving my message on top of the counter, I slip past Carrumba as she loudly cracks the shell of a peanut. Just as I'm pulling the door closed, I hear the voice again. <br />
<br />
"Buh-bye." <br />
<br />
I stop in my tracks for a moment and peek my head back inside the house, looking for anything that could explain the disembodied voice of Edward. <br />
<br />
"Hello?" I call out into the empty house, waiting for a response. <br />
<br />
Nothing. <br />
<br />
Nothing. <br />
<br />
"Buh-bye." <br />
<br />
Carrumba. Of course! She's a damned parrot, for fuck's sake! <br />
<br />
I walk over to her cage and watch her as she wipes the remnants of an apple slice from her beak onto her branch. "Bye-bye, Carrumba." <br />
<br />
She says nothing, watching me retreat back to the door and closing it behind me as I step onto the front porch. I twist the key in the lock and hear a faint murmur from the other side. <br />
<br />
"Buh-bye." <br />
<br />
~*~*~*~ <br />
<br />
At the dinner table, Renee passes the casserole to my dad and they argue about future home improvement projects. "I don't understand you sometimes, Renee. We live in the desert. Why would we need rain gutters?" <br />
<br />
I tune out the majority of their conversation, quietly sulking because I have not heard from Edward yet today. Usually they are home in the late afternoon, but I haven't even gotten a text message letting me know they are enroute. <br />
<br />
I interrupt their banter without a care. "Have either of you heard from the Masens today?" I look up from the chicken and rice mush on my plate and into the blank faces of my parents. <br />
<br />
"Usually Edward calls or texts me when they are on their way home, but I haven't heard from him yet. Neither has Peter." I had called Peter this afternoon to see if he'd gotten word of their departure time, but he said he hadn't talked to him since Wednesday at lunch in the school's courtyard. <br />
<br />
They shake their heads and my dad mumbles that they probably stayed at the cabin a bit later since Edward doesn't have school tomorrow. I nod slowly, trying to convince myself that his suggestion is the most logical. <br />
<br />
I excuse myself from the table and stumble upstairs, looking for my shoes and wedding bouquet brochures from the florists we stopped by earlier in the day. My parents are still bickering at the table when I return downstairs. <br />
<br />
"I'm going to feed the bird again, since we don't know what time they'll be home." <br />
<br />
"Okay, honey," my mom replies, carrying her dinner plate to the sink. <br />
<br />
"I may hang around over there for a bit, in case they show up before it gets too late. I'll just watch a DVD or something." <br />
<br />
She waves her hand dismissively and I leave through the garage door and scamper through the lawns to the Masen's front porch just as the sun is starting to set in the western sky. I listen quietly and smile as I hear Edward's beautiful voice emulated by Carrumba as she talks to herself in her cage. <br />
<br />
"Hel-lo. Good girl. Step up. Waahka doohoo boo GAWWWK!" <br />
<br />
She shuts up the moment I enter the living room. I slip her bowls from the cage's trap doors and replenish the apples and peanuts, tossing in a hand full of dried chili peppers. I hand her a long, green bean pod through the slats of the cage. She extends one creepy claw and grasps it with the talons. She tears into the flesh of the pod with determination, rooting out the tender beans inside. <br />
<br />
I leave Carrumba to her dinner and flop down on the leather couch. Opening the folder of brochures, I spread them out across the coffee table and separate them into piles. After making my selection of the perfect wedding bouquet, I collect all the piles and put the winning brochure on top and wrap a rubber band around the stack. I toss the bundle back into the folder and leave it on the table as I make my way to their DVD collection. Snuggling into the soft leather cushions, I pull Grandma Masen's quilt from the back of the couch to cover my legs as I hit 'play' on the remote control. <br />
<br />
I'm startled awake by an awful sound and I bolt up from the couch in alarm. It's Carrumba, and she's going ape-shit in her cage. Suddenly, I realize there's bright sunlight shining in through the living room window. Is it morning, already? Did the Masens come home last night? Why didn't Edward wake me up? I hurry up the steps to his room... nothing. I knock on the door to the master bedroom... nothing. Down to the garage... no minivan. Where are they? <br />
<br />
I grab my cell phone and try calling him but it goes straight to voice mail. Getting the same result with calls to Liz and Ed Senior's cell phones, I frantically call my mother at home. <br />
<br />
"Hello?" <br />
<br />
"Mom! Have you heard from them yet?" <br />
<br />
"Bella? Why are you calling me from your bedroom? Come downstairs. I made some muffins this morning." <br />
<br />
"No, mom. I'm still at the Masens. I fell asleep on the couch, but they never came home last night. Have you heard from them?" My voice registers an octive higher with each spoken word. <br />
<br />
"Uhh, no, babydoll. Not yet. You want me to call Liz? Maybe they-" <br />
<br />
"No. I already tried." I let out a shuddering breath and asked the one question that I didn't want to have confirmed. "Do you think something happened to them? An accident?" <br />
<br />
"I doubt it, sweetie. Liz is scheduled off from the salon today, but I don't know if Ed took off as well. Maybe you should ask your dad if he requested a vacation day or something. Maybe they decided to spend and extra day since school is out." She was quiet on the other end of the line for a moment as her comments tumbled around in my brain, attempting to make sense of it all. "Look, I'm about to head into work. Why don't you call me later when you hear something, okay?" <br />
<br />
We say our goodbyes and I hang up the phone. I swiftly feed Carrumba and sprint back to my house, forcefully dodging the increasing anxiety I feel. <br />
<br />
Busying myself by scrubbing floors and dusting the tchotchkes, I try to fight off the panic that something terrible has happened to them until I can’t take it anymore. I snatch my cell phone from the confines of my bag and dial Edward’s number again. <br />
<br />
It’s Edward… I’m busy! Leave a message. BEEP! <br />
<br />
“Baby? I’m starting to get worried. I thought you were going to be home yesterday, but I haven’t heard from you. Call me as soon as you get this message, okay?” I pause, battling the overflow of tears. “I love you.” <br />
<br />
Hesitantly, I close my phone and grip it tightly to my chest as a renegade tear escapes and speeds down my cheek. God, please, let him be okay. <br />
<br />
The rest of the day is spent aimlessly pacing the house and mumbling little prayers to God, asking for Him to protect Edward and keep him safe. I call my father in the afternoon and beg him to contact the ranger’s station to investigate. <br />
<br />
“Bella, honey, I will call tomorrow if we haven’t heard from any of them.” <br />
<br />
“NO, DAD! THIS IS NOT NORMAL! Use your policeman investigative skills or something! Put out an A.P.B.!” <br />
<br />
“Look, Ed had already taken today off, so maybe they plan to come home later today or in the morning. He’s on the evening patrol tomorrow, so I’m not going to file a missing person’s report because you can’t get a hold of your boyfriend, ” He reprimands in his ‘Officer Swan’ voice. <br />
<br />
“Fiancé,” I quietly correct, picking at an imaginary thread on my shorts. <br />
<br />
“Whatever,” he huffs. “They’ll be back before the graduation ceremony. There’s no way Ed and Liz are going to miss it.” <br />
<br />
“Yeah…” I whisper, defeated. <br />
<br />
“Why don’t you spend some girl-time with Angela until you hear from him? You know… get a pedicure or go see a movie or something.” <br />
<br />
I know I’m probably overreacting. There haven’t been any visits by highway patrolmen, delivering bad news; no solemn three A.M. phone calls from a hospital’s emergency department. Liz and Ed had apparently scheduled off work today and maybe they had something special planned for Edward as a surprise graduation gift. While these thoughts help to alleviate my worry, the nagging feeling that something has gone amiss continues to smolder in the pit of my stomach. <br />
<br />
“Okay, Dad,” I sigh, resigned. “Do you promise to call tomorrow if we don’t hear from them?” <br />
<br />
“Yes, now I’ve got to get back to work. I’ll see you around dinner time, Bells.” <br />
<br />
For the next twenty-four hours, Angela hardly leaves my side. She understands my anxiousness can reach epic proportions when Edward is away, and now that he seems to have gone off the radar, it’s reaching a cataclysmic level. We spend time between the three houses watching movies, teaching cuss words to Carrumba, and trying out hair styles and make-up for the graduation ceremony, anything to keep my mind distracted... it doesn't help. The unmistakable, gut-feeling of misfortune continues to burn inside of me. <br />
<br />
When Charlie arrives home from work on Tuesday evening, his face bears a slight panic as he maneuvers through the kitchen door and into the living room. He glances at me briefly, but diverts his eyes over to my mother as she chews on her fingernail. She’s been sitting on the couch, staring out the front window for the last three hours, not once does she pay attention to the television. <br />
<br />
“Uhhh, Renee? Can I talk to you for a minute?” My dad nervously skirts around my chair to grab her hand, pulling her to stand, and leads her to the kitchen. I strain to listen to their conversation from my spot in the recliner in the living room. <br />
<br />
“…called… station… no records...” <br />
<br />
“…When?” <br />
<br />
“…Sunday afternoon…” <br />
<br />
“…no signs… tell her… at graduation…” <br />
<br />
After a few silent minutes, my parents return to the living room, wearing identical worried looks. My stomach plummets and I have the sudden urge to hurl all the pizza that Angela and I had earlier today. My mother gently sits on the arm of the recliner and drapes her arm across the back, ready to offer emotional support. Charlie stands awkwardly in front of me, shifting his weight from foot to foot. <br />
<br />
“Bells?” <br />
<br />
Oh God, no. No. No. NO! Tears fill my eyes and my dad’s tall figure blurs into a ripply form. <br />
<br />
He continues, “I called the ranger’s station this evening. They said they haven’t seen the Masens in a couple days, but that doesn’t necessarily mean something has happened.” He hurried through that last sentence, hoping to reassure me before the dams holding back my tears explode. <br />
<br />
“Okay…” I reply meekly, letting him know I understand and am still in the conversation. Sometimes I get lost in my own head when I start to panic. <br />
<br />
“There was an entry in their gate log that indicated their van left the national park on Sunday afternoon, but there were no entries for them returning. The ranger I spoke with said that sometimes they miss logging vehicles as they come or go because they get a phone call or are out running patrol on the public park facilities.” <br />
<br />
“Alright, that makes sense… but where have they been for the last two days?!” <br />
<br />
“I don’t know, honey. I called the Apache County Sheriff’s office, and they haven’t gotten any reports of them. Maybe they planned a secret side trip before coming back home.” <br />
<br />
I nod my head slowly. This was the same conclusion I came to, but it just doesn’t feel right. I know something is wrong. <br />
<br />
“What if we’re wrong, Dad?” My wavering voice betrays my stoic façade. “What if something terrible has happened to them? You know they would have told you or mom if they had a surprise for Edward and wanted to keep it from me!” <br />
<br />
“Sweetheart,” Renee interjects softly, “Let’s give them the benefit of the doubt and not stress any more about it until tomorrow. We know they would never miss Edward’s graduation… or yours, for that matter. When they show up before the ceremony, you will see that all this worry and anxiety was for nothing.” The hand that was lounging across the back of my chair moves to run through my hair. It’s soothing, but doesn’t squelch my worry. She stares deeply into my eyes and offers a motherly smile, willing me to accept her rationale as truth and that all my anxiety is unnecessary. <br />
<br />
My father bends to place a rare kiss on my hair and squeezes my shoulder, then retreats to the kitchen, scavaging for leftovers. Renee offers a lingering, one-armed hug and rises from the arm of the recliner to return to her post on the couch, staring out the window. I can tell my parents are starting to get worried. It's unusual for their best friends to not tell them about their plans, regardless if they were trying to keep it a secret from Edward or me. It just doesn't make sense. <br />
<br />
Trying to heed my parents' advice, I attempt to focus on anything and everything that won't remind me of Edward. I look to the floor and notice a discolored spot next to the stairs - a stain made by Edward when he accidently spilled grape juice on the carpet four years ago. Over to the photo collage frames above the entertainment center - pictures of the Masens and my family at Disney World when Edward and I were eight. Down to the discarded pile of mail, laying on the coffee table - a utility bill, Renee's attempted crossword puzzle from the Sunday newspaper... and a bridal magazine. <br />
<br />
Fuck! I can't take this anymore. <br />
<br />
"I gotta get outta here, Mom." A tear escapes and runs down my cheek as I lurch from the recliner and out the front door. "I'll be at the Masens!" <br />
<br />
I run through our front yards, stumbling over Mrs. Weber's garden decor and plowing through Liz's flower beds, my vision clouded by the rampant stream of moisture flowing from my eyes. Crashing into the front door with a loud 'thud', I faintly hear Carrumba reciting her nightly ritual - practicing her human vocabulary and mixing the words with her birdly squawking. I smile internally, hearing her sounds mimic Edward's voice. It's heart-wrenching, but still somewhat comforting. <br />
<br />
The key slides into the lock easily and I quietly open the door, not wanting to startle her. Tip-toeing through the foyer, I peek around the wall and watch her climb around her tall, steel cage. She jingles the tiny bell that's attached to the rope toy hanging from the roof. "Hel-lo. Tank yooo. Powaah wahh boo GAWWW! Car-rum-ba good girl." I giggle at her last statement and she whips her yellow-headed, green-feathered body toward my hiding place. "Hel-looo." <br />
<br />
I slowly approach her cage, smiling, hoping she will continue her rambling. "Hi, Carrumba." <br />
<br />
Silence. <br />
<br />
Stupid bird. <br />
<br />
The sunlight has faded, and shadows of the tall shrubbery in the backyard dance across the windows. I close the blinds to the dining room and kitchen windows, and pull the shades in the living room. Settling into Ed's favorite spot on the sectional sofa, I click on the television, hoping to occupy my thoughts with a cheeky sitcom or brainless reality show. An hour later, I huff in frustration because there's nothing to watch and turn off the t.v., making my way up the stairs to Edward's bedroom. <br />
<br />
His laundry piles are still scattered across the floor, blocking the path to his desk. Stepping over them, I slide into his desk chair and hit the power button on his computer. It whirrs and wheezes to life, revealing a picture of a hairy caterpillar on the login page. Typical. I type in his password and drum my fingers on the keypad, waiting for his desktop to appear. I laugh loudly when I see the image of he and I at the county fair last year, arguing over whether to get separate bumper cars, or ride together. I complained because I couldn't reach the pedals, so I wanted to ride together. He agreed that that was the same reason he wanted to ride in different cars... so he could ram into mine. Ass. Angela had secretly taken the picture as we were standing in line for funnel cakes. Edward and I didn't even realize she had snapped the camera and captured us in our usual banter until she taped a 4x6 glossy print to my locker the following Monday at school. <br />
<br />
I don't even realize I'm crying again until I feel a drop of something hit my hand. Glancing down at my skin, I notice the tear drop resembles a lopsided heart and I frantically wipe away it's existence . From anger? Worry? Sadness? I don't have a clue, but I'm tired and I need to relax and try to get some sleep before the graduation ceremony tomorrow. <br />
<br />
I climb into Edward's bed, pulling his dingy, blue-plaid comforter up to my face and inhaling his scent. It's musky, maybe from sweat and who knows when he last washed the sheets, but I don't care. It's just so him, and to me... it smells like Heaven. <br />
<br />
~~**~~**~~ <br />
<br />
"...Bella?" A deep voice croons softly in my ear. <br />
<br />
"Hm." <br />
<br />
"Bella? C'mon, get up." I feel a dip in the bed as someone sits next to me. <br />
<br />
"No." <br />
<br />
"Baby... please? At least let go of the blanket." <br />
<br />
"No, I'm too comfy. Snuggle with me?" It's so early in the morning that my brain is fuzzy as I pout to that familiar voice. My face is buried in Edward's pillow, and my words come out muffled. <br />
<br />
He gently laughs, "You're going to strangle yourself with them. C'mon..." A warm hand gently grasps my fist, trying to loosen my grip on Edward's comforter from around my neck. Fingers are softly running through the matted locks of my hair and a waft of fruity fragrance permeates my senses. <br />
<br />
"I brought you some Earl Gray to help wake you up." <br />
<br />
"With cream and two sugars?" <br />
<br />
"Mm-hmm." Edward always knows how much I love my English Breakfast teas in the morning, especially if I've had a long night. <br />
<br />
I smile widely into the bed linens and whirl myself out of bed toward him, wanting to either hug him fiercely for coming back to me or beat him senseless for keeping me worried for days... maybe both. <br />
<br />
"Edward!" <br />
SweetVenom69http://www.blogger.com/profile/16891131791448534680noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2259876397494509092.post-84408583945991935562010-04-23T19:28:00.000-04:002010-09-16T14:22:31.306-04:00Chapter 3Playlist selection: <i>Passenger Seat </i>by SheDaisy<br />
<br />
Bella POV <br />
<br />
<br />
I am standing alone inside of a dressing room, wearing a strapless bra and a scratchy petticoat as my mother and future mother-in-law browse the racks of gowns for my perfect dress. Apparently, the bride's opinion is unnecessary. This is the ninth store today, and I am getting really fucking tired of shopping. I've been dragging my feet about this particular scavenger hunt, simply because I want to pick something on display at the store and have it hemmed or altered, if needed. No custom, designer gown. No several thousand dollar price tag. Just an off-the-rack wedding dress with a penny-pincher's sales price. There's no sense in spending so much money on something I am going to wear once. It's ridiculous how much weddings cost. Maybe I could forego my perfect wedding and Edward and I can get hitched at the courthouse. At least there I could wear a tee shirt and shorts while we say our vows. <br />
<br />
"Try this one on, Bella." Elizabeth's voice calls through the door as the sales associate, Gianna, slinks in to help me put it on. I roll my eyes at the sight of the bulky contraption of lace and rhinestones. <br />
<br />
My mother shouts from farther away, "What do you think about cathedral trains?" I ignore her question; due to the fact I have told her three times today that I don't want a train on my wedding dress. <br />
<br />
Gianna makes quick work of all the little buttons up the back of the dress and turns me around so that I can see myself in the dressing room mirror. I grimace as I look from my reflection to her face and I see her smirk. <br />
<br />
"Just remember this is your day. Don't let them dictate anything. Moms can be wickedly manipulative when it comes to their daughter's wedding," she whispers conspiratorially. <br />
<br />
"Yeah, try having two moms." <br />
<br />
She offers a smile in understanding. <br />
<br />
"What style are you looking for? Maybe I can save you from trying on more tacky gowns." She looks down at the dress and tugs on the skirt as she smiles at me in the mirror. <br />
<br />
I try to describe the style that I've always imagined as perfect for me and tell her what I did like about the dresses that I had already tried on through out the day. She winks at me and walks out of my fitting room, and I follow her, feeling like she is going to lead me to a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow. <br />
<br />
"Oh, don't you just look like a princess!" my mother exclaims, clapping her hands in delight. Immediately, I growl at her and spin on my heels, tredging back into the dressing room to rid my body of the offending garment. I refuse to wear anything that makes me look like a princess...especially on my wedding day. I hate being called that. <br />
<br />
Gianna returns from the cavern of gaudy dresses with an ivory gown - strapless, light embroidery, and no train. She helps me into it and at first glance, my eyes well with tears. This is the one. It's perfect. A small smile plays at my lips as I look at Gianna's reflection in the mirror and mouth my thanks. She nods and offers a tiny, smug smile and exits the room, allowing me to present myself to my mothers. <br />
<br />
I hear simultaneous gasps as their eyes fill with moisture and wide smiles spread across their faces. <br />
<br />
"Bella, it's beautiful," my mother whispers. Elizabeth nods, speechless. <br />
<br />
I turn to Gianna. "I'll take it." <br />
<br />
Gianna schedules me for my next fitting and bags up my dress as the cashier rings up our purchase. Elizabeth argues with my mom about paying for half of the cost of the gown, insisting that I am the daughter she never had. Renee finally agrees after convincing Elizabeth to allow her to pay for Edward's tux. <br />
<br />
We scamper back to Renee's car, stuffing my dress in the trunk, and head home. After dropping Elizabeth off at her house and a quick "hello-goodbye" to Edward, we pull into our driveway as my dad meets us in the garage. <br />
<br />
"Hey, ladies! How was your trip?" He smiles brightly, dropping a kiss on Renee's cheek. <br />
<br />
"Productive," I say as I pull my oversized garment back from the trunk. "I'm glad we're home, though." <br />
<br />
"Hungry!" My mother chimes in, exaggeratedly rubbing her belly. <br />
<br />
"Oh, yeah? Well, that's good to hear. I'm going to throw some steaks on the grill." <br />
<br />
"Sounds good, Dad. What else are we having?" <br />
<br />
"I don't know. What goes well with bear meat?" <br />
<br />
Ugh. Fucking great. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
~*~*~ <br />
<br />
I ace through two final exams and at the end of the day, I clean out most of the junk from my locker. School will be over in two days, and I don't want to have to bother with it on my last day. Edward meets me after school and helps cram my stuff into both of our backpacks. I never realized how much crap one can acquire during a school year. <br />
<br />
We meet up with Angela, Peter and Charlotte at Dairy Queen and discuss summer plans over ice cream and chili dogs. We talk about the milestone of graduation, some wedding plans for Edward and I, and Charlotte's up-coming trip to France. <br />
<br />
Edward and I climb into his truck and drive home so we can study for our next round of finals. <br />
<br />
"What exams do you have tomorrow?" <br />
<br />
"English Lit and Calculus. You?" He scrunches his nose when I mention my literature class. He doesn't understand my interest in books. If it's not science or bugs, it's of no interest to him. <br />
<br />
"American History and Spanish," he grimaces. <br />
<br />
I nod my head in acknowledgement, but don't keep up the conversation, feeling the impending depression seep in, knowing he's leaving for a trip without me. It's stupid, I know, but I am just so lonely when he's away. I kiss him goodnight on the cheek when he drops me off at my house and watch as he pulls into his driveway, shutting off the engine. I blow him a kiss and a wave and head into the house to hit the books. <br />
<br />
Taking a break from studying, I recruit my mom to come with me to the grocery store to pick up a few ingredients for the Masens' cookies. We return a while later, Renee heading to the living room to watch American Idol while I trudge up the stairs and flop down on my bed amidst my school notes and books. <br />
<br />
I'm startled awake in the wee hours of the morning by a nightmare. <br />
<br />
Edward had disappeared and I got a ransom note from his captors. They were keeping him hostage deep within a forest, threatening to turn him into a monster if I didn't give them Elizabeth's recipe for chicken gumbo. I started crying because I didn't know where Elizabeth kept her recipes. I ran from my room and through the living room - which was a tropical beach - and down the street to the Masen's house. I tore through their kitchen - which resembled my high school cafeteria - searching for her recipe book when I found nothing but packages of frozen bear meat. I screamed out Edward's name, knowing that I have failed and he will be turned into a monster and collapsed onto the kitchen floor next to the stove and cried. <br />
<br />
Catching my breath and wiping away the escaped tears, I notice that I'm still in my jeans and t-shirt, at the wrong end of my bed. My textbooks are spread around me and my lecture notes are crumpled and tangled in my bedspread. I scan the room for my alarm clock and find it on the floor next to the nightstand. I must have kicked it off the tabletop in my sleep. I pick it up and notice it's 4:23am. There's no way I am going to fall asleep again, knowing I would normally have to wake up in two hours. Resigned, I stagger into the bathroom and shower, allowing the hot water to loosen the kinks in my neck from my awkward sleeping position. I dry off and dress for the day, gathering my school stuff and relocating to the kitchen table. <br />
<br />
I toss some frozen waffles into the toaster, and as I wait for them to crisp, I reorganize my study guidelines into piles. I settle into a chair and review my notes for today's exam. An hour later, Charlie staggers into the kitchen to make himself a pot of coffee. <br />
<br />
"Mornin'." <br />
<br />
"Morning, Dad." <br />
<br />
"Exams today?" <br />
<br />
"Yep." <br />
<br />
He doesn't make any further comments but nods his head as he measures the coffee grounds and pours them into the filter. He heads back up the stairs to get ready for work. Charlie's not a morning person. Renee comes downstairs in a flurry a few moments later, frantically searching for her work smock. I point to the laundry room and begin to pack my stuff up and prepare to meet Edward for our daily ride to school. <br />
<br />
School is uneventful today. Exams, goofing-off, lunch, more goofing-off. Edward hangs out at my house after school and we make out on the couch for a little while in the middle of the afternoon. He's laying on top of me, kissing my neck and chest as his hands swiftly unbutton my denim shorts. I buck my hips to gain some friction against his hand as he slides his fingers inside my panties and into my wet folds. I can feel his hardness grinding against my leg, and I reach to untie the drawstrings of his basketball shorts. He raises his hips so that I can get a firm grip on his gloriously rigid cock, and we begin moving in tandem, creating the sensations that can propel us into ecstasy. The sound of Renee's car pulling into the driveway thwarts our plans, and I laugh as Edward grumbles about being cockblocked by my mother. I straighten my hair and clothes as he pulls me to sit on his lap to help hide his raging boner. We snuggle for a while until he decides to head home and study for the last of his finals. I walk him to the front door, kissing him goodbye and telling him I'll call him later. <br />
<br />
After a dinner of pizza delivery and soda, I decide now is a good time to make the cookies. <br />
<br />
"Jesus fucking Christ. Why can't people stop moving shit around in here?" I grumble to myself as I shift items around in the kitchen pantry. "Come out, come out wherever you are..." <br />
<br />
"Bella, what are you doing?" <br />
<br />
"Looking for the bottle of vanilla extract that I bought last night and put it on this shelf, but now it's gone." I rise to my tippy-toes to look over the top of the various boxes of stuffing mix and Hamburger Helper on the shelf in front of me, but don't find what I'm looking for. <br />
<br />
"You mean this?" I crane my neck to find my dad holding up a small box and giving it a little shake, rattling the tiny bottle inside. <br />
<br />
"Yeah. Where was it?" <br />
<br />
"Next to the flour." He nods towards my baking paraphernalia spread across the countertop. <br />
<br />
"Oh. Thanks." <br />
<br />
Charlie stands quietly, watching me as I mix the ingredients from memory. I've been making these cookies for years and it takes me only a few moments to toss them together and scoop onto a cookie sheet. I slide the metal pan in to the preheated oven and set the timer on the stove. <br />
<br />
"So," he draws out, "tomorrow is the last day of high school, eh?" <br />
<br />
I don't say anything, just nod my head as I dunk the mixing bowl into the sink, cleaning the remnants of the cookie mixture from the sides and place it in the drying rack. The kitchen is silent other than the sounds of splashing water. <br />
<br />
A few minutes pass, and my mother enters the kitchen to join us, sliding a chair across the linoleum. "Bella, we have a little graduation gift for you." <br />
<br />
I turned to face my parents, finding they both look sheepish, knowing I don't particularly care for gifts and surprises. Renee outstretches her arm towards me, in her hand sits a box wrapped in Class of 2010 paper. <br />
<br />
"Mom...Dad..." <br />
<br />
"Just open it," Charlie complains. "We thought you could take it to school tomorrow and get some pictures or whatever." <br />
<br />
"It's not a camera, Charlie," my mother corrects. "It's a camcorder, Bella. Open it!" Her eyes dancing with excitement. <br />
<br />
I smile and hug them, thanking them for the very thoughtful gift. Charlie suggests I take it to any graduation parties I may go to, to thwart any illegal activities amongst the party-goers. Renee slaps his shoulder and tells me to get some footage of my friends, and then she will record the graduation ceremony next week with it. I smile to myself as I think of things that Edward would like to use it for and quickly shake my head to dispel those thoughts, especially as I am standing in front of my parents. <br />
<br />
Later on, I take a quick shower, throw on my pj's, and duck under my covers. I grab my cell phone and make a quick call to Edward. <br />
<br />
"Hey, lover boy." <br />
<br />
"Hey, sexy beetle," he purrs into the phone. "You ready for tomorrow? This is it... our last day!" <br />
<br />
"I know," I reply wistfully. <br />
<br />
We are quiet for a few seconds, both of us lost in our own thoughts. I suddenly remember my parent's graduation gift and I tell Edward about the camcorder. He teases me about all the videos we will be making once we move to Tucson. I quickly change the subject, and we talk about his camping trip tomorrow and the plans for me to feed the Masen's bird while they are gone. <br />
<br />
After a few minutes, we make lovey-dovey kissing noises in the phone at each other, and I tell him I will meet him in the morning. <br />
<br />
<br />
~*~*~ <br />
<br />
<br />
The alarm blares, and I dart out from under my blankets as if my bed was on fire. I feel excited...thrilled...ecstatic that today is our last day. I dress quickly and tumble down the stairs, practically running into Renee in the kitchen. <br />
<br />
"Oooff!" <br />
<br />
"Looks like someone's excited to go to their last day of high school." Renee is smiling brightly, small tears forming in her eyes. "My little girl is all grown up!" <br />
<br />
"Aw, mom, don't cry," I choke out as she squeezes me in a hug. We stand in front of the refrigerator as she starts to sway slightly, like she's rocking a baby. <br />
<br />
"I'm a proud mother, Bella. Let me have my moment." She embraces me tighter and relents with a sigh as I feel a warm drop of wetness on my arm. <br />
<br />
Thankfully, she releases me and shoves me toward the front door, pushing the camcorder and a large container of cookies into my hands, and tells me tonight we will go out for a celebratory dinner. I smile and nod, afraid if I speak I would cry along with her, and exit the house. <br />
<br />
I fumble with the video equipment as I amble over to Edward's house. As I reach their driveway, I finally get the signal that it's recording, and I aim the lens towards their garage. Ed Senior is stealing a kiss from Elizabeth just before climbing into his police cruiser. He rolls down the window and waves at the camcorder as he drives away, and I pan back to Elizabeth as she closes the door to her minivan, headed out for last minute errands. <br />
<br />
"He's in the kitchen, Bella," she informs. "Go on in." <br />
<br />
I waltz into their house and find Edward bent over in the kitchen, his head in the refrigerator. <br />
<br />
"Hey, mom, where's the sliced turkey? I want to take a sandwich for lunch?" He doesn't notice that it's me who walked into the house, and I quickly activate the camcorder again, zooming in on his glorious behind as his head is inside the fridge. He looks up quizzically, wondering why his mother didn't answer him, and smiles once he realizes it's me...with the camcorder. <br />
<br />
"You know, Bella," he lowers his voice seductively, "if you wanted to stay at home all day and make videos, I would gladly skip school." <br />
<br />
"Not a chance, Romeo. I want to get some footage of our friends acting crazy and stuff today. So, hurry up with your turkey sammich and let's get a move on!" I toss the plastic container of cookies onto the counter and turn toward the front door. <br />
<br />
He shrugs his shoulders passively. "Okay... your loss." <br />
<br />
We've climbed into his truck when I power-up the camcorder again. I shoot video of the front of his house as we pull out of the driveway - the blue, country style shutters on the front and the colorful flowerbed by the mailbox. I pan the view to include the interior of Edward's truck - the dashboard, ancient stereo, and torn vinyl seats. Finally, I aim the lens at the beautiful, young man sitting to my left and I smile uncontrollably. His face is serious as he concentrates on his driving, but a small grin plays at the corner of his mouth as he tries to ignore me watching him through the view finder. After a moment, I pan down his body, and zoom in on the tattoo on his wrist. The skin there is still healing, but the image of the letters stand bold against his flesh. I reach my hand out and pull his wrist toward my lips and plant a tender kiss there. <br />
<br />
I continue shooting footage as we drive, passing the park at the end of our street, the convenience store on the corner where we used to get slurpees as kids, and our elementary school. As we sit at a stop light, Edward leans over to kiss me, and I attempt to angle the camcorder toward our heads, as it makes noises, trying to automatically refocus. I make a mental note to check it later to see if I got a good shot of our kiss, or if I inadvertently zeroed in on my forehead or his nostrils. The light turns green, and Edward turns into the parking lot of our high school, pulling into his usual parking space. I hit the power button, wanting to save battery life, and cram the device into its protective bag. <br />
<br />
Edward wraps his arm around my shoulders, pulling me to sit next to him on the bench seat of the Chevy and kisses my hair tenderly. <br />
<br />
"I love you, lovebug." <br />
<br />
"Love you too, pookie." <br />
<br />
"I hate it when you call me that," he whines. <br />
<br />
"I know. That's for calling me 'princess' the other day." I stick my tongue out at him and smile, exiting the truck. He meets me at the back of the truck and walks me to my first class, as he has everyday since our first day of school together - twelve years ago. <br />
<br />
<br />
~*~*~*~ <br />
<br />
<br />
Angela and I reach the courtyard and spot our friends sitting at the same patio table during lunch that we've sat at all year. Edward's back is to us and Peter is across from him, talking to Charlotte. I sneak up behind Edward and wrap my arms around his head, covering his eyes with my hands. <br />
<br />
"Guess who?" I ask in a creepy, deep voice. <br />
<br />
He laughs and pulls me around to sit on his lap, kissing my lips and telling me he always knows it's me. Angela strategically sits next to Charlotte so she can get a better view of her life long crush, Ben, who sits at a nearby table. We tease her every day about her stalking tendencies, but she denies it vehemently. Edward pulls the camcorder from it's bag and films our friends - and in Ang's case - the object of her obsession. We pass it around, giving each of us a few moments to play with it, recording various people and views of the school from our usual place in the courtyard. <br />
<br />
"Oh!" Edward exclaims. "Before I forget... here, Bella." He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his set of keys. "My mom is picking me up after my final exam next period, so you'll have to drive yourself home." <br />
<br />
"Oh, yeah," I mumble, the depression already setting in. <br />
<br />
"Don't forget to feed Carrumba tonight." <br />
<br />
The Masens bought an Amazon parrot several years ago. Edward Senior refused to allow Elizabeth to get a cat, and they both denied Edward's suggestion of a terrarium for his beloved bugs, so when I piped up and suggested they get a bird, it seemed like the perfect solution. Ironically, the bird has, for lack of a better term, fallen in love with Edward and gets angry when Elizabeth or Ed Senior tries to get near her. She occasionally tolerates me, but only when Edward isn't around. Thankfully, when I come to their house to feed her when they are camping, she stays quiet in her cage and I can clean it and replenish her water and food supply unscathed. <br />
<br />
"Yeah, sure. You guys are coming back on Sunday, right?" Lord knows I don't want to deal with that crazy bird for very long. <br />
<br />
The sound of the bell ringing signals the end of our lunchtime. Edward packs my camcorder into its bag, holding the handle out for me. He gives me a tight bear hug and kisses me breathless before whispering that he will miss me and to take good care of his baby - his truck. I roll my eyes and smile, kissing him one more time before heading toward my fifth period class. <br />
<br />
"I LOVE YOU, BELLA BUG!" Edward shouts across the courtyard as he enters the science building. I smile and shake my head at his silliness and make my way to English class. <br />
<br />
The final bell of the day sounds and an explosion of students enter the halls, cleaning out their lockers and hugging friends, wishing them a great summer. I escape to where Edward's truck is parked and hurl myself up into the cab. I've driven it before, but I'm always nervous. It's so large and bulky and the clutch is very sensitive. I crank the key in the ignition and pull out of the space, nearly clipping the car next to me and running over two freshmen. <br />
<br />
I make it home without any further incidents and settle into Charlie's favorite recliner, turning on the television. A while later, I hear the faint chirp of my cell phone indicating an incoming text. I fish it out of my bag and find that it's from Edward... <br />
<br />
Miss me yet? ;) <br />
~E <br />
<br />
<br />
Nahh. =P <br />
U miss me yet? <br />
~B <br />
<br />
<br />
Always. <br />
Even when u r with me. <br />
~E <br />
<br />
<br />
I smile and press the phone to my chest, clutching it close to my heart. He always knows exactly what I need to hear. <br />
<br />
<br />
Almost to cabin - so no service. <br />
Love you. See you Sun. <br />
XOXO <br />
~E <br />
<br />
<br />
Love you too. <br />
Have fun. <br />
XOXO <br />
~B <br />
<br />
<br />
I power down my phone and snuggle into the recliner, lifting the footrest and pulling the afghan off the back to cover my body. I imagine it's Edward's arms wrapping around me, holding me against his chest as we both inhale deeply, breathing in each other's scent. I close my eyes to revel in my daydream and drift off into a late afternoon nap. <br />
<br />
An hour or so later, Renee wakes me up as she clambers into the house, returning home from work. We plan to meet up with Charlie at my favorite restaurant for dinner, and then the three of us will go bowling, much to my dad's disappointment. Charlie sucks at bowling. Renee, on the other hand, bowls a near perfect game every time. The woman may not be able to figure out the washing machine cycles, but she's a genius with an eight pound ball and ten pins. <br />
<br />
On Thursday, I spend part of the day talking with a realtor in Tucson, scouting rentals for when Edward and I start at the University of Arizona in the fall. In the afternoon, I spend a few minutes at the Masens' house feeding their bird, washing the few remaining dishes in the sink, and tidying up Edward's room, separating his worn clothes into color piles for the laundry. I chuckle to myself as I pull his socks from the pant legs of his jeans. This is a wifey thing to do. I'm going to be someone's wife in a few short weeks. Edward's wife. <br />
<br />
The thought both thrills and terrifies me. What if one day he wakes up and doesn't recognize me as the same Bella he's known all his life? What if he decides that he doesn't want me anymore? A sharp pain stabs me in the chest as my worry starts to escalate into paranoia again. That's when I glanced up at the mirror above his dresser and notice a small piece of paper taped to the reflective surface. <br />
<br />
BugABoo- <br />
I know you miss me. <br />
Quit cleaning!! <br />
See you Sunday. <br />
Love, <br />
Edward =) <br />
<br />
I smile uncontrollably, knowing how well he understands me. I clean when I'm anxious, worried, or have something on my mind. It doesn't surprise me that he's picked up on that after all these years, and he knew I'd be contemplating a complete over-haul on his messy bedroom while he was away. <br />
<br />
Saturday evening, I find myself in my bedroom, standing in my underwear and wavering between the flowery sundress and the blue one, when Angela knocks on my bedroom door. <br />
<br />
"Yo, ho! You ready to go?" <br />
<br />
"Gimme one minute!" <br />
<br />
I can hear her theatrically tapping her toes against the hardwood floors, pretending she's getting impatient for me to exit my room. I snatch the blue dress, fling it over my head, slide into my favorite sparkly flip flops - for added flair - and meet Angela in the hallway. <br />
<br />
"Let's get this party started!" She whoops as we speed past Renee and Charlie in the kitchen. <br />
<br />
"Bella!" My dad calls from the pantry closet. "Don't forget to take your camcorder. And keep it clean... no convicting evidence, ok? And no drinking and driving!" <br />
<br />
I smile at Charlie's attempt at a PSA, kiss him on the cheek, and grab my video recorder's bag from the countertop. Angela and I climb into the car, where Peter waits in the backseat with a case of beer under a blanket. <br />
<br />
"Where'd you get the beer?" I ask, eyeing the neighborhood pastor's children warily. <br />
<br />
"Stole it from our dad's not-so-secret-anymore secret hiding place under the stairs. He's got about twenty cases in there!" Peter's eyes light in excitement at his newly discovered treasure. <br />
<br />
We arrive at Charlotte's house, an adobe-style two story in a fancy, gated community, and hear the music thumping through all the open windows and squeals and splashes coming from the pool area of the backyard. We walk through the house, surveying the debauchery, while Peter confiscates my camcorder and films our classmates as they enthusiastically wave at the camera in their inebriated states. Angela and I make our way out to the back patio, finding a few of our fellow students jumping from the low rooftop of the house into the pool below. <br />
<br />
"Those dumb fuckers are nuts!" I thumb over my shoulder in the direction of the jumpers. <br />
<br />
"What do you expect, Bella? They're jocks," she deadpans. <br />
<br />
We find a couple of lounge chairs and settle in to watch the morons do "cannon balls" and "nut-crackers" into the pool, and I notice a few classmates snuggled together around the patio - kissing and groping, blissfully unaware of others around them. I sure wish Edward was here with me. His warm arms would be holding my body close to his as his soft, wet lips travelled down my neck, placing tender kisses against my skin. <br />
<br />
I must have groaned out loud, lost in my own thoughts of Edward and me, because Angela abruptly asks what's wrong. Before I can even form an answer to express the emptiness I feel when he's not around, she concludes that I miss him and tells me to look at the bright side: he'll be home tomorrow and we'll never have to be separated again. Her kind words break through my emo-ness, and I make it my goal for the rest of the night to enjoy myself. <br />
<br />
An hour or so later, a shit-faced Peter passes off the camcorder to Angela, and she and I squish onto the loveseat in Charlotte's living room, watching the footage on the small video screen. Keg stands, horrific Karaoke attempts, roof-jumping jocks, and public gropings are mostly the evidence filmed of the party, but one part in particular hits me like a ton of bricks. It was a shot of me, from across the pool. My face was slightly blank, my lips turned downward in a frown, as I was thinking of Edward and missing him terribly. This evidence has me feeling so completely alone - even when surrounded by fifty drunk and disorderly people - seeing myself so down and sad, knowing Edward was spending time with his family away from me. I know it's childish and extremely selfish to want him all to myself, but I just wish he was here with me tonight to celebrate our high school graduation with our friends and not slumming it in a cabin with who-knows-what lurking in the woods. <br />
<br />
We leave the party a half hour later, pouring Peter into the backseat of Ang's car and rolling the windows down in case he decides to hurl on the way home. He sings Pour Some Sugar on Me at the top of his lungs and rubs his hands up and down his body like he's washing himself in the shower. I can't deny it, it's some funny shit, and I pull out the camcorder to document his foolishness. Ang and I are encouraging his hilarious, drunk behavior by playing DJ with the stereo and joining in on the singing. <br />
<br />
Angela pulls into her driveway and shuts off the car, turning to look in my direction. <br />
<br />
"What are we going to do?" she asks, nodding her head towards a passed-the-fuck-out Peter in the backseat of the car. <br />
<br />
"I say... leave his ass here." <br />
<br />
"We can't leave him in the car, he'll suffocate or something." <br />
<br />
"Ang, it's warm outside with no chance of rain. We'll leave the windows down." <br />
<br />
So that's what we decide to do. We roll the windows down, cover him up with his beer case blanket and close the doors. Smirking at each other, knowing that he will be pissed and confused when their father finds him asleep in Angela's car the next morning before church. I say good night to Angela, offer a quick, longing glance at the dark Masen house, and amble over to my house, next door. Once inside, I scramble up to my room, slip in to my pj's, and tuck myself into bed, relishing the thought of being in Edward's arms again tomorrow. SweetVenom69http://www.blogger.com/profile/16891131791448534680noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2259876397494509092.post-89841487110437672392010-04-23T19:27:00.000-04:002010-09-16T14:22:31.307-04:00Chapter 2Playlist selection: <i>Brown Eyed Girl</i> by Van Morrison<br />
<br />
Edward POV <br />
<br />
<br />
I stride out of the garage, tossing a half-assed salute to Charlie, and climb into the cab of my truck. I can't help feeling a little dejected that Bella didn’t want to come with me to the sporting goods store. We have our entire lives to run errands and have cutsie lunch dates together, but knowing how hectic the next few days were going to be has me feeling a tad bit needy. <br />
<br />
I fire up the engine and rev it a few times - knowing it ruffles Charlie’s feathers - and back out of the driveway, narrowly missing their rickety mailbox, and forge ahead towards the shop. <br />
<br />
Pulling up in front of the store windows, I notice Todd’s shitty clown car in the parking lot and smirk. He’s worked at this store for several years and has become good friends with my parents, since we basically keep the store in business with all the camping we do. <br />
<br />
The door chimes alert him of my arrival, and I send Todd a quick wave and head towards the camping equipment section. He finishes with his customer at the register and makes his way over to where I am browsing the lanterns. <br />
<br />
“Hey, Edward! Need a new lamp, huh?” <br />
<br />
“Yup, a solar one if you’ve got it.” <br />
<br />
He nods and points to the few they have in stock and carries my selection towards the check out, telling me that my father stopped in yesterday to pick up some supplies and informed him of our plans go to our cabin in the woods this coming week. He asks me if the Swans are coming with us this time, but I shake my head ‘no’ and relay Bella and Renee's plans to interview florists for the wedding. Smiling and rolling his eyes, he launches into a story about when he and his wife were getting married and all the planning and decision-making that was involved. <br />
<br />
About fifteen minutes into the saga, I glance at my watch and notice I am going to be late for my appointment with Marcus. I thank Todd for his help with the lantern and trot out to my truck. The engine roars to life and I peel out of the parking lot, speeding down the busy street toward Rise of the Phoenix tattoo shop. <br />
<br />
I find a parking spot a few blocks away and pull up against the curb. I dodge a couple of cars as I cross the street and hop over the storm drain and up onto the sidewalk. As I reach the shop, my hand hesitates on the handle of the entry door and I suck in a ragged breath. <br />
<br />
Once I go through with this, there’s no turning back. This is for life. <br />
<br />
I exhale sharply and wrench open the door, and I'm immediately assaulted with a barrage of images plastered to the walls – colors, symbols, portraits, and cartoon characters - art that people have adorned on their bodies. <br />
<br />
A tall, burly man, with too many piercings in his face to count, asks me if he can help me. I tell him I have an appointment with Marcus and he checks the schedule book by the register. I confirm my name and he escorts me to a small room in the back, informing me that Marcus will be in shortly. <br />
<br />
Somehow I feel like I’m at the doctor’s office, the draft of cold air from the A/C chilling me to the bone. I sit nervously on a chair in a tiny room, waiting for the one person who will perform a little procedure to alter my body for the rest of my life. My heart is pounding in my chest and my hands are beginning to sweat. I rub them vigorously on my jeans just as the door swings open and a short man with two full sleeves of tattoos on his arms waltzes in and plops down on the rolling stool next to my chair. <br />
<br />
“So you want a tattoo, huh, son?” <br />
<br />
“Yes, sir,” I respond as my voice cracks and I nod my head fervently. <br />
<br />
He smirks at me and holds his hand out for the paper I have in my hand. He pulls it from my shaky grip and reviews it briefly before asking where I want it placed. I point to the inner area of my left wrist, and he raises his eyebrows at me in surprise. <br />
<br />
“You know that’s a very sensitive spot, son. Are you sure that’s where you want to put it?” <br />
<br />
My traitorous voice squeaks as I reply with a stuttering "Y-yes," and I internally berate myself for acting like such a pussy. <br />
<br />
He tells me he will be right back and takes my image with him, closing the door behind him. I release a long-held breath and try to reign in my nervousness. I know this will hurt like a bitch, but it’s worth it – she’s worth it. That’s enough encouragement to get a grip on my anxiety as Marcus comes back in with a smaller version of my image and tells me to sit back and relax. <br />
<br />
Easier said than done, my friend. <br />
<br />
I watch as he sets up the ink wells and opens a new needle for the gun. He explains the entire procedure to me as he runs a razor over the tender flesh of my wrist to remove any hair and applies an antiseptic. <br />
<br />
“What does this say, by the way?” He asks as he is positioning the transfer of elegant script to my skin. <br />
<br />
I can’t tell him the truth about the translation or he would think I was queer or something. So I tell him it’s Latin for pimp daddy, automatically feeling guilty for lying to a man who could knock me into next week with one little sweep of his fist. I swallow thickly as he looks up at me with wide eyes and scoffs. <br />
<br />
Changing the subject, he points to the image now transferred to my wrist and asks if the positioning is perfect. I concur and he informs me that this will “hurt like a mother” and proceeds to pin down my forearm with his free hand as he fires up the tattoo gun and starts with the agonizing torture. <br />
<br />
Thirty minutes later, I've been instructed on after-care and handed a goodie bag of lotion and coupons to come back for more "work". I pay the cashier and practically skip out to my truck and call Peter to brag about my ink. He tells me he’s on his way to the mall to pick up a graduation gift for his new girlfriend, Charlotte. I warn him that if he runs into Angela and Bella to not mention my tatt, as this will be my present to Bella. He doesn’t question that last statement, and for that I am grateful. <br />
<br />
I had just gotten home and was showing off my new tatt to my dad when I get a text from Bella saying that she and Angela are on their way back from the mall. I tell her to have Ang drop her off at the park and I'd meet here there. A few minutes later, I leave the house and walk the quarter mile through the neighborhood and wave to some of the guys on the basketball court as I pass through. Sitting nervously in the gazebo, I wait anxiously for my lovely bride-to-be to arrive and anticipate her potential freak out over my gift for her. We've both discussed how stupid it is to get someone's name tattooed onto your body, but this is very special to me and reminds me of Bella, so I think she will appreciate it. I hope. <br />
<br />
I hear a car door slam shut in the distance and my heart starts doing somersaults in my chest. All of a sudden I am so nervous about her reaction I feel I might puke. I take deep breaths, trying to calm down, but every second that passes, my heart rate increases. <br />
<br />
Suddenly, she's standing at the opening of the gazebo and I freeze like a statue. She looks at me with wide eyes and I pull her to me and kiss her to alleviate the anxiety for both her and me. I sit her down on my lap and before I have a chance to break the news to her, she spies the bandage and freaks out. <br />
<br />
"Oh my God, Edward. What happened?" she asked, her voice shaking in alarm. <br />
<br />
"I'm fine, doodlebug. It's half of your graduation-slash-wedding gift, remember?" <br />
<br />
"Slicing your wrist is not a gift I want from you, Edward," she chides, knowing full well I would never do something like that. <br />
<br />
"Take off the dressing and look for yourself." <br />
<br />
She looks up at me quizzically as she gently holds my wrist in her lap. Slowly, she removes the medical tape holding the bandage to my skin and pulls back the dressing. Holding my arm up to the light of the street lamp in the distance, she squints to read the words inscribed on my body. <br />
<br />
"Danaus plexippus?" She turns to face me with furrowed brows. "What the fuck does that mean?" <br />
<br />
"It's the scientific name for the Monarch butterfly, Bella." I smirk at her, knowing once that sinks in, she will probably cry...happy tears, of course. <br />
<br />
She stares at my wrist for a few minutes, not saying a single word and then she looks back at me with tears in her eyes and hugs my neck something fierce. See...do I know my girl or do I know my girl?! <br />
<br />
"Edward, oh my God. That is the most... the most... romantic...crazy... I- I- I don't know what to say." She twists her body so that she is straddling my lap and lavishes my face with sweet kisses as the tears continue their descent down her cheeks. "I don't know how to tell you how much it means to me that you would mark your body with something that represents me...us!" <br />
<br />
I put my hands on her ass and pull her pelvis closer to mine and smirk as she notices my erection pressing against her belly. <br />
<br />
"Edward...," she reprimands, her breathy voice betraying her sentiment. <br />
<br />
"Hmmm?" I murmur into her neck and plant a soft kiss below her left ear, nipping at it ever so slightly. <br />
<br />
"Baby..." <br />
<br />
I smile, knowing she's getting a little turned-on and I rock her hips harder into my crotch to help intensify the sensation. "I can think of something that will tell me just how much it means to you." <br />
<br />
She pushes weakly against my shoulders and attempts to give me a stern look. "Edward." <br />
<br />
"Bella," I whisper against her lips as she tightens her arms around my neck. <br />
<br />
She isn't trying to push me away; in fact, she's pulling my body closer to hers. Her breasts press firmly against my chest and she releases a quiet hum against my mouth. I tear my lips away from hers, only to travel them down the line of her jaw, across the tender flesh under her chin, and over to her other ear. My teeth graze her earlobe gently as she tightens her fingers in my hair. Her breaths become heavier and she tips her head back, exposing more of her vulnerable neck to me. <br />
<br />
"Oh, yes...," she breathes. Oh, how I love to get her worked up. <br />
<br />
Of course, this only spurs me on. I trail one hand up to her hair and use it to guide her head in the perfect position so that I can lavish her neck with more wet kisses. She slowly grinds her pelvis against me, torturing me beyond sensibility. I grip her hip tighter with my other hand and coax her into a steady rocking motion, allowing for better friction for both of us, but knowing I only want to please her right now. I don't want to blow a load in my shorts, having to walk all the way back to my house in sticky clothes. <br />
<br />
"Oh my... God..." <br />
<br />
Yes. <br />
<br />
I press my lips harder into her neck, applying a little suction but not enough to bruise her, and groan as I feel the moist heat from the center of her thin, cotton shorts rub against me. Her breathing becomes more erratic and the sound of her muted moans wreaks havoc on my self control. I am seconds away from bending her over the railing of this gazebo and fucking her senseless. <br />
<br />
Somehow, I reign in those primal urges even as her breathing gets heavier. Her hips continue to rock with determination and I pull my hand from her waist down to the center of her body, pressing my thumb against her clit through her clothing. A few more passes of her body over my erection and she's whimpering my name. <br />
<br />
"Edw..Edward...I'm...I'm gonna..." <br />
<br />
"Yes, baby. Let go," I whisper breathily, my mouth hovering next to ear. <br />
<br />
I return my lips to her neck and firmly press my teeth against her flesh as her body tenses and shudders in my lap. I hold her body against mine as she comes back to the here-and-now, and chuckle as she smacks my shoulder playfully when she realizes what we did and where we did it. <br />
<br />
"I can't believe you got me off at the park. I feel like such a perv." She scrunches her nose at me, stifling a smile. <br />
<br />
"You are a perv," I reply with mock disgust. <br />
<br />
She giggles and climbs off my lap, pulling my hand to help me stand. "But you biting me at the end, yeah, that was hot!" <br />
<br />
I wrap her in a monstrous bear hug, kissing the top of her head, and lead her out of the gazebo and through the soccer field. <br />
<br />
We are quiet for most of the walk to our homes. Occasionally, I wonder what is running though her mind, but mostly I'm recalling the day I proposed to her. <br />
<br />
It was three days before Bella's eighteenth birthday and Renee had taken her and Angela out for a Sunday brunch to celebrate. My mom had one of those terrible, summertime colds that kept her in bed, swimming in a sea of used tissues, for several days. I used her head-fog to my advantage and asked where my grandmother's engagement ring was hidden. I had already snooped around in her jewelry box, but it wasn't in there. Mom's eyes crossed as she struggled to raise her head off her pillow and pointed in the general direction of her closet. <br />
<br />
I flung open the closet door and flipped on the light, making a dash towards the corner shelf behind the Halloween costumes. Ha! I should have known it was hidden in the "safety deposit wok". <br />
<br />
My mom had gotten the quirky, electric appliance for a wedding gift and never used it. For some reason, she had placed it in her closet and began putting sentimental items inside of it, hiding them under the large, dome lid - jewelry, my first straight-A report card, my first detention slip, a picture of me and Bella running through a water sprinkler in the backyard when we were little, and my grandmother's engagement ring. My Nana had promised me, before she passed away, that she was leaving it for me to give to my future wife - Bella. <br />
<br />
I reached into the wok and picked up the tiny satin pouch that held the diamond solitaire and walked out of the closet, through my parents' bedroom, and out the front door. <br />
<br />
I wanted to do this the proper way and ask Charlie for Bella's hand, so with Nana's ring in my pocket, I scurried over to the Swans' house and found Charlie asleep in his leather recliner. He was startled awake by the click of the front door as it closed and smiled, offering for me a seat with the wave of his hand. <br />
<br />
Reluctantly, and with quite a bit of silent contemplation, he gave me his blessing on one condition... that we wait until after we have graduated high school to get married. I agreed to comply with his request and told him I wasn't planning on asking Bella yet, but that I wanted to get the formalities out of the way for when the time was right. He smiled then, and gave me a pat on the shoulder as he led me to the front door, encouraging me to wait until far, far into the future. I knew that what I had planned - in regards to when I was going to ask Bella to marry me- was going to piss him off royally. <br />
<br />
Three days later, the morning of her birthday, Bella arrived at my house at her usual time, expecting to ride with me to school. I told her we were skipping school and I drove her to IHOP. What can I say? My girl loves pancakes. After breakfast, I took her to the park at the end of our street, knowing we wouldn't get caught by our parents at this hour. They all had already left for work, including my mom who had recovered from her illness. I parked the truck by the basketball court and led her to the large willow tree by the lake. As she relaxed her back against my chest, sitting between my legs, we overlooked the water in the cool shade under the tree's umbrella. I hadn't prepared a long speech or any other grand gestures, so I pulled the small pouch from my pocket and held it up in front of Bella's face. She took it and opened it, peering inside, and then looked up at me. <br />
<br />
"What's this, Edward?" <br />
<br />
"It's a ring, ladybug." <br />
<br />
"I know that, jackass," she chided, rolling her eyes. "It looks expensive. You didn't have to get me anything for my birthday." <br />
<br />
"I didn't spend a dime and it's not specifically for your birthday. It just happens to be your birthday when I wanted to give this to you." <br />
<br />
She didn't say anything, just looked with confusion at my twisted explanation. I didn't want to drag this out much longer. I was a little impatient and wanted to do it right at that moment. As I was mustering up the last of my courage, she settled herself against my chest again, facing away from me and staring intently at the diamond ring in the palm of her hand. <br />
<br />
"Will you marry me, Bella?" I whispered softly in her ear. <br />
<br />
Her body stiffened and she gripped the ring tightly in her hand. It seemed like eternity before she responded, but finally she released a deep breath and turned slowly to face me. When her eyes met mine, a few tears escaped and traveled down her cheeks and she smiled and nodded. <br />
<br />
"Yes." <br />
<br />
I kissed her gently, not trying to get her worked up, but to let her know how much I loved her and needed her in my life forever. Pulling her body tightly against mine, I slid my Nana's ring onto Bella's finger and kissed it like I had seen in old movies. <br />
<br />
We sat under the tree, wrapped in each other's arms for a little while longer until she told me she wanted me to take her to my house. I led my new fiancee to my truck and drove to our street. Bella was very quiet during the three minute drive and when I parked in the driveway, she scooted over to exit from the driver's side door and grabbed my hand, pulling me toward the house. I unlocked the door and opened it for her to enter ahead of me, and she continued to pull me through the living room, up the stairs, and into my bedroom. <br />
<br />
I was internally giving myself a high five, assuming we were going to be making out, but to my surprise, Bella had a better idea. <br />
<br />
That was the day we lost our virginity... to each other. It was a beautiful day. <br />
<br />
As we reach her driveway, she finally speaks, pulling me from my reverie. <br />
<br />
"Thank you," she says sheepishly. "For both." I can't see her beautiful blush creep across her cheeks due to the darkness outside, but I know it's there. <br />
<br />
Answering my unasked question as to what "both" she was talking about, she reaches down to my bandaged wrist and pulls it up toward her lips. <br />
<br />
"This," she says, placing a loving kiss over it. "And this..." She makes a pointed look down her body. <br />
<br />
Oh. <br />
<br />
"You're welcome...for both." I smile rather smugly. <br />
<br />
As we reach the middle of her front yard, I swoop down to pick her up around her thighs and fling her over my shoulder. With her head close to my ass, she laughs like a loon as I imitate farting noises with my mouth as I climb the stairs to her front door. I barge through the entry, startling Renee and Charlie as they sit on the couch watching the news. <br />
<br />
"Jesus Earl Christ, Edward... what are you doing to my daughter?" Renee jokes as I haul Bella through the living room like a caveman. <br />
<br />
"Edward! Put me down or the wedding is off!" <br />
<br />
Smirking, I ignore Bella's futile attempt to intimidate me as I flip her right-side up and drop her into the recliner in the corner. Renee laughs, making her way to the kitchen as Charlie scowls, attempting to focus on the TV. <br />
<br />
"Charlie, I brought your daughter back for a few more weeks. Just keep in mind that she's on loan to you until July fourth... after that, she's all mine!" I point at myself with both of my thumbs, grinning like a Cheshire cat and wagging my eyebrows. He grumbles and sneers a few times before he gets up to join Renee in the kitchen. Bella rolls her eyes at my jackassery and jumps up to give me a parting kiss and a promise to see me tomorrow after the "Great Wedding Dress Crusade". I kiss her lips tenderly and whisper my love, reminding her that all my teasing of the evening was just that...teasing, and that I love her more than anything else in the world. She smiles and grabs my arm, bringing it to her lips, kissing my tattoo again. <br />
<br />
"I love you, Edward." <br />
<br />
"Love you too, baby. G'night." <br />
<br />
I close their front door behind me as I leave and trek back down the block toward my parent's house. <br />
<br />
**~**~~** <br />
<br />
Sunday. <br />
<br />
What the hell am I going to do today? Mow the lawn? Play some b-ball in the park? Study for this week's final exams? Pack for our camping trip? I decide to do all of those things, in that order. Cutting the grass in record time, I leave the weed-whacking and edging for my dad. I hate doing that shit. I don't bother to shower because Peter is meeting me at the park at noon to play some one-on-one. <br />
<br />
At 12:20 pm, he shows up. <br />
<br />
"Dude! Where the fuck have you been? You live a half block from the park. Why are you late?" <br />
<br />
"We got home from church late and I was talking to Charlotte," he snaps back defensively. <br />
<br />
"Oh." I can't blame the guy, I'm late half the time from talking to Bella. <br />
<br />
We rough-house on the court for about forty-five minutes before Bella calls to tell me that they have stopped for lunch and plan to hit a few more wedding dress stores this afternoon. I wish her luck and tell her she'll be gorgeous even if she shows up to the ceremony wearing a garbage bag. She scoffs and tells me she will call me later. <br />
<br />
Peter complains that he has chores to do at home and we end the game with me whipping his ass - as usual - and we head back to our houses. Once back home, I shower, nuke some leftover pizza, and sit down and cram for the Biology exam tomorrow. I fucking love Biology, especially when we are studying insects. <br />
<br />
Around dinner time, Bella calls to say that after nine stores, they have found her perfect dress and are on their way back home. I pack up my books and notes, satisfied that I have saturated my brain cells with scientific jargon and head to the garage to pack our camping supplies. <br />
<br />
As I am stuffing the third sleeping bag into the back of my mom's minivan, I get a text from Bella. <br />
<br />
We're turning into the neighborhood. <br />
Are you home? <br />
-B <br />
<br />
I quickly type a reply. <br />
<br />
Yes. Are you stopping by our house? <br />
I want to see your dress. <br />
-E <br />
<br />
I receive her response as the headlights of Renee's car sweep across our lawn as she pulls into the driveway. <br />
<br />
NO WAY! Not until July 4th. ;) <br />
~B <br />
<br />
Not letting that deter me, I dart out to meet the car, waving hello to Renee and kissing my mother on her cheek as she climbs out of the passenger door. Bella leans out the backseat window, shaking her head as my roaming eyes scan the back seat for a garment bag. <br />
<br />
"We hid it in the trunk, Mr. Snoopy. You know it's bad luck to see it before the wedding, Edward!" <br />
<br />
I smile. She knows me too well. I lean into the car window and kiss her quickly, telling her that I will see her in the morning for our daily ride to school. She nods and wishes me sweet dreams. I watch as Renee backs the car out of our driveway and pulls into theirs, two houses down. <br />
<br />
Refocusing on my previous task, I turn into the garage and notice my mom taking a quick inventory of the minivan, looking for any equipment I may have missed. I try to break into casual conversation about her day and playfully ask about Bella's dress - whether it's strapless and if it shows a lot of cleavage. She playfully smacks the back of my head and tells me to forget about the dress for now and to help her with making a list of the food for us to pick up before the trip. First item on the list...Bella's potato chip cookies. <br />
SweetVenom69http://www.blogger.com/profile/16891131791448534680noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2259876397494509092.post-90128186960210589822010-04-23T19:24:00.002-04:002010-09-16T14:22:31.307-04:00Chapter 1Playlist selection: <i>I'm Yours</i> by Jason Mraz <br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">Bella POV </div> <br />
"Blood...I hate blood," I murmur to myself quietly, hoping that he won't hear me. "Why can't he clean this fucking mess by himself?" <br />
<br />
I am far beyond seething. I realize that I am so wrapped around his little finger that I can't tell him I don't want to do it anymore. He expects me to help, says it will help us bond. I despise the fact that he looks forward to this time together. I have no intention of being supportive of his vicious attack on a precious life, but he blatantly ignores my protests that it's wrong - inhumane. <br />
<br />
"It's only for a few more weeks," I tell myself, silently praying that I will never have to deal with this shit again. The sooner I get to Tuscon, the better. This is one thing I will never miss about living with him. <br />
<br />
The only thing. <br />
<br />
I snatch the long, rubber gloves from the under the kitchen sink and bolt through the screen door into the garage. I slide my hands into them, inspecting for any holes in the material. I don't want this blood on my hands. <br />
<br />
I grimace as I reach into the back of his truck, dutifully avoiding the gun case, and locate the flimsy, yellow toolbox that harbors the one thing that truly disgusts me about his new form of "entertainment". I carry it to the utility sink by the work bench and gingerly remove the razor-sharp, hooked knife with my fingertips, laying it on the plastic bag next to the wash basin. I try to keep the gore from tainting anything it touches. The offending knife was my gift to him for Christmas last year, and I never thought I would be the one asked to dispose of the evidence of its use - the disembowelment of his latest victim. I know that I can refuse if I want, but I can never say "no" to him. <br />
<br />
I breathe through my mouth so I don't smell the blood and fight the urge to gag as I notice the tiny, jagged remnants of torn muscle still stuck to the blade. Oh, God...there's even some black hair still caught in the handle as it was violently ripped from the body. I close my eyes and count to ten in order to refocus my thoughts to the task at hand and keep the nausea at bay. <br />
<br />
Bleach...I need bleach. <br />
<br />
I frantically search the cupboard next to sink and sift through the various cleaning products, not finding what I really need. I wonder if Windex will work. I decide I'd better stick with what I know and continue my fruitless searching. <br />
<br />
Where's. The. Fucking. Bleach?! <br />
<br />
"Hey, can you turn on the hose now?" His voice breaks me from my sanitizing frenzy, and I shudder slightly, registering how light and carefree he sounds. It's as if he's completely oblivious to the ferocity and cruelness of his actions. <br />
<br />
"Sure." My voice reeks with repulsion. <br />
<br />
I turn on my heel and glare daggers at the back of Charlie's head as I see him standing on the bed of his pick-up truck, hose nozzle in hand, preparing to spray the partially coagulated blood into the yard. I stalk toward the spigot, twist the knob all the way to the left, and cringe as I notice the red smudges on my glove. My stomach heaves as I swallow the eruption of bile in my throat. I head back into the garage to clean and disinfect both myself and the tainted weapon he used for this despicable act. <br />
<br />
Charlie continues excitedly, "You should have seen him, Bells. Once he saw me, he took off like a bat out of hell, but I shot him in the neck before he got too far." He whips his head towards me with a face-splitting smile, apparently very proud of his most recent accomplishment. "We'll be eating him for months!" <br />
<br />
"Great," I mutter, even more nauseated at his last comment. <br />
<br />
"Bear meat is really good. We've got enough in the freezer now to last us until next year!" he exclaims. <br />
<br />
It's times like this that I seriously consider converting to vegetarianism. As far as I am concerned, the meat in my freezer comes from the grocery store and no furry, gentle creature had to be sacrificed and gutted to produce the delicious pot roast that Renee is making for dinner tonight. I know that's not reality, but it makes me feel better not having to imagine or actually witness the remnants of fur, entrails, and blood littering the front lawn. <br />
<br />
As I hijack the bleach from the laundry room to clean the knife and disinfect the fuck out of the sink, I hear a familiar rumbling coming from the driveway and I smile uncontrollably. All revolting thoughts of my savage father vanish as my knight in shining armor arrives on his trusty steed - or more appropriately in my case, in his crappy Chevy truck. <br />
<br />
Edward's unruly, auburn hair shines in the intense Arizona sun as he climbs out of the cab of the truck and saunters over to me with a wide smile and eyes sparkling with happiness. <br />
<br />
"Hello, my beautiful fiancée," he says a bit louder than is necessary and turns to boldly tell my dad, "Don't worry Charlie, I won't violate her while you're home." <br />
<br />
No one can get a rise out of my father like Edward. He winks at me as Charlie growls and narrows his eyes at Edward. I smirk at his ballsiness and lean in for a chaste kiss on the cheek. Surely, Charlie can deal with that amount of affection. <br />
<br />
Although my dad is Edward's godfather, there is no doubt that he would have hand picked Edward as the perfect man for me to marry. However, just the thought of any guy claiming me as their own is enough to send Charlie's aneurysm-burst level to Def-con 5. Edward is acutely aware of this and is taking his life in his own hands. The coloring in Charlie's face is reaching a radiant purple. <br />
<br />
"Calm down, Charlie. You know I'm just messing with you." <br />
<br />
Charlie only grunts and snarls in response, apparently regressing back to his Neanderthal ways. <br />
<br />
Unfazed by my dad's death glare, Edward flashes me a crooked smile. <br />
<br />
"What are you doing today, Bella bug? Wanna come with me to the sporting goods store? I need to get a new lantern." <br />
<br />
"What's wrong with the one you bought last month?" <br />
<br />
"Nothing. I just want to get a solar powered one," he shrugs and picks up the now sanitized hunter's knife as I lay it down to dry on a towel. Eyeing it appreciatively, he yells, "Hey, Charlie, is this the Alpha Hunter that Bella got you for Christmas?" <br />
<br />
As my dad's color fades slightly, he nods and replies with an articulate "yep" and turns to finish spraying down the bed liner of the truck. His miraculous evolution back into a chatty Homo sapien is truly astounding. <br />
<br />
Edward places the blade back on the towel and raises an eyebrow at me, indicating that I never answered his earlier questions. I remind him of my plans for the day and that Angela will be here in an hour to pick me up. He bats long eyelashes and asks if he could at least see me this evening when I get home. I smile brightly at the thought of being with him later today, and then I smile even wider knowing we'll have all the time in the world together once we move to Tuscon and start college in the fall. <br />
<br />
"Text me when you ladies are on your way back, and I'll meet you here. I have some early graduation-slash-wedding gifts for you." <br />
<br />
"What?! Edward, you know how I feel about gifts." <br />
<br />
"Don't worry, they aren't expensive. Actually, I have to order one of them, so I will save it for before the wedding. But the other one, I really have to get today because the guy is moving to L.A. this week, and I heard he is the one to get it from," he said cleverly trying to not give away too much information. <br />
<br />
It drives me nuts when he does this. <br />
<br />
"Just spit it out, Edward! What are you buying me today?" <br />
<br />
"Nu-uh, Princess, you'll just have to wait and see," he smirks, knowing how much the nickname perturbs me. He will never let me live down my innocent misinterpretation of the erotica book we found under his parent's bed. <br />
<br />
"Fine, Captain Cryptic," I spit back at him while poking him in the chest, "just for that smart ass comment, I won't make you any of your favorite potato chip cookies for your camping trip." I cross my arms over my chest and lift my chin defiantly. <br />
<br />
He gasps in mock surprise, knowing full well that I will never follow through with my pitiful threat. Renee and I have been baking those cookies for the Masens to take on every camping trip since Edward and I were three years old. There's no way I'll stop the tradition now. <br />
<br />
Which reminds me...I will need to make them Tuesday night. Crap. Just one more thing to add to my already hectic week. <br />
<br />
This Wednesday is the last day of our senior year of high school. Traditionally, Edward and his parents wait to camp until the school year is over, but this year our fathers have a law enforcement conference in Las Vegas the week following graduation, so they decided to leave this week instead. Once graduation is behind us, we'll be focusing on wedding plans, and there won't be time for a camping trip then either. <br />
<br />
I internally sigh knowing we'll be apart for four, whole, bleak days. Aside from these camping trips, Edard and I have spent some part of every day together since we were born. Needless to say, when he goes on a trip without me, I'm utterly miserable. I know they will be back on Sunday, but I feel so empty, so incomplete, when he's gone. Thankfully this time, graduation parties and wedding plans should keep me plenty occupied while the Masens are traipsing around the Apache National Forest. It's only about five hours away from Phoenix, but it might as well be on the other side of the world. I know, busy or not, I'll be counting down the hours until he comes home. <br />
<br />
Jesus, is it normal to be so pathetic when you're in love? <br />
<br />
After a tender parting kiss and a playful swat across my ass, Edward turns toward his monstrosity of a truck, sends a quick salute to Charlie, and climbs into the cab. He cranks the engine and revs like an annoying street racer. He can be so adorably irritating sometimes. I watch him pull out of the driveway, cringing as he nearly hits the mailbox, and wave to him as he drives down the street. <br />
<br />
<br />
~*~*~ <br />
<br />
A little more than an hour later, Angela and I pull into the parking lot of the mall and make a quick stop at the food court. <br />
<br />
She's a Sbarro junkie. <br />
<br />
I make a meal out of a fruit smoothie and we set off on our shopping expedition. As we exit one of our favorite boutiques, we run into Angela's twin brother, Peter. The Webers moved into the neighborhood five years ago, and live in the house between ours and the Masens. It was no surprise that we all became great friends. Their father, Pastor Weber, will preside over our nuptials in a few short weeks, and Angela will be my maid of honor. Peter is going to be Edward's best man. One big, happy neighborhood. <br />
<br />
Edward and I have chosen to have a very small, private ceremony. Only a few family and friends will gather to witness our union at the neighborhood park at the end of our street. The ceremony will be held in a charming gazebo by the lake and the following reception will be held by the picnic area a few yards away. I never wanted a huge, lavish wedding, and Edward couldn't give two shits. He'd be happy if we went to Vegas and were hitched by an Elvis impersonator or eloped at the court house. I, at least, want some small semblance of a traditional wedding - some flowers, a cake, white wedding gown, and all the superstitious things you're supposed to wear...or do...or not do. I want all the hoopla but on a much, much smaller scale. I'm actually going to make my own cake, Elizabeth will organize the food for the reception, and Renee insists on having a florist make a bouquet. I'd be happy with some flowers that we pick from the backyard the morning of, but she vetoed that idea. Whatever makes her happy, I guess. <br />
<br />
"Hey, girls!" Peter walks toward us with a small jewelry store bag in his hand. I eye it skeptically. <br />
<br />
"What's in the bag, Peter?" <br />
<br />
"Oh...uh...It's actually...uh...a little something I picked up for Charlotte," he mumbles and blushes minutely. <br />
<br />
"Really? So things are getting serious, huh?" <br />
<br />
"Yeah, Bells, I think they are. Maybe next year you and Edward will be coming to our wedding." <br />
<br />
Angela and I gasp in shock at the same time. She's obviously just as surprised by his comment as I am. Peter and Charlotte have only been dating for a month or so, but it's apparent that he's completely smitten. Jesus, I hope that's not an engagement ring in the bag. <br />
<br />
"So, what's in the bag?" I silently thank Angela for unknowingly reading my mind and persisting with my previous question. <br />
<br />
"Um, it's a charm bracelet." <br />
<br />
He hesitantly pulls it from a box inside the bag and holds it up for us to see. <br />
<br />
"Oh, it's so pretty, Peter. I'm sure she'll love it." <br />
<br />
He blushes again and quickly replaces it in its packaging. His face suddenly changes from bashful to excited as he looks up to me with twinkling eyes. <br />
<br />
"Bella, have you seen Edward this afternoon?" <br />
<br />
"No. He stopped by the house this morning, but he said he had something he had to do later today. Why?" <br />
<br />
"Oh, uh, no reason," he blurts out suspiciously trying to backpedal, "Well, I guess I'll catch you girls later. Tell Edward to stop by, okay?" He turns quickly and speeds toward the food court. <br />
<br />
"Okay," I mutter, more to myself and Angela since Peter is already out of hearing range. I turn to her and she shrugs her shoulders, both of us confused by his weird behavior. <br />
<br />
As we make our final purchases at the mall, I send a quick text to Edward: <br />
<br />
Hey handsome. <br />
About to leave mall now. <br />
What time are u coming over? <br />
~B <br />
<br />
Ten minutes later, Ang and I are in the car on the way back home when my cell phone chirps, alerting me to an incoming message: <br />
<br />
Hi beautiful. <br />
Have Ang drop u off @ park. Meet me at gazebo. <br />
See u in a few mins. <br />
~E <br />
<br />
<br />
I climb out of Ang's Corolla, promising to call her tomorrow after "The Great Wedding Dress Crusade" with Elizabeth and Renee, and make my way through the soccer field toward the lake. The sun is starting to set and the light is fading quickly. I don't like being alone in the park after dark. I get creeped-out, conjuring imaginary creatures lurking in the shadows - like vampires or giant, mutant wolves. I hope Edward is here already. <br />
<br />
As I make my way to the gazebo, I notice a figure sitting on the bench inside. His silhouette is partially hidden behind the wood railing, but the unmistakable sight of Edward's wild hair shines like a beacon to me. I step inside and he looks up at me with a small, worried smile on his face. <br />
<br />
He stands and I notice he's wearing a white, long sleeved, buttoned shirt, which is odd, since it's the end of May and still in the nineties outside. He seems hesitant to approach me, and I don't understand why. My heartbeat quickens and I feel anxious that he hasn't uttered a word to me. For some reason my brain propels itself into paranoia. <br />
<br />
Is he having second thoughts about marrying me? <br />
<br />
Did he meet someone else? <br />
<br />
Did something happened to someone in his family? Or my family? <br />
<br />
As I'm formulating more ridiculous scenarios in my head, he steps toward me and wraps his arms around my waist. He leans in to place a soft kiss on my lips, apparently trying to deflate my increasing anxiety. I look up into his eyes and see that his expression is lively but cautious. Taking me by my hand, he pulls me back toward the bench and onto his lap. The cuffs of his shirt ride up his arm slightly, and I notice the white bandage over his wrist. <br />
<br />
I gasp, "Oh my God, Edward, what happened?" <br />
<center></center>SweetVenom69http://www.blogger.com/profile/16891131791448534680noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2259876397494509092.post-7565594316450091962010-04-20T22:52:00.001-04:002010-09-16T14:22:31.307-04:00Chapter 7<b>WARNING: This chapter contains disturbing scenes related to death. If you are sensitive to this subject, please skip to the very end of the chapter or wait for the short, edited recap at the beginning of next chapter. You have been warned. </b><br />
<br />
Playlist selection: <i>Slipped Away</i> by Avril Lavigne<br />
<br />
Bella POV <br />
<br />
OhmyGod. OhmyGod. OhmyGod. "AAHHHHHH!" <br />
I stare, wide-eyed and in horror, at the blood-stained linens of Edward's bed. Something terrible has happened to him, I just know it. Scenarios flash through my mind - a bloody nose, a cut on his hand. While these may be logical explanations, my heart screams otherwise. I just know within my soul that he's been hurt, tortured, or - Oh God... killed! My mind battles between a spastic freak-out and complete shut-down. It's a fine line to walk right now. I'm unsteadily teetering on the edge of sanity. <br />
<br />
"DAD!?" My voice is shaky and strained. I move away from the bed quickly, back-stepping toward the door of the room and clutching my shirt as I struggle to catch my breath. <br />
<br />
"BELLA! STAY WHERE YOU ARE!" Charlie shouts from down the hall. <br />
<br />
The panic in my father's voice propels my feet into motion, and I run down the corridor toward him. "But, Dad, there's blood!" I shriek, putting emphasis on the one word I can't believe I'm saying. I fucking hate blood. <br />
<br />
My feet come to a screeching halt at the doorway of Elizabeth and Ed Senior's bedroom. Charlie is standing next to the bed, one hand covering his mouth and nose, appearing to fight the urge to puke, the other propping his body against the wall. But that's not what causes me to stumble and cling to the doorjamb, grasping the wood to support my suddenly wobbly knees. That would be the stench wafting toward me from inside the room. It's nauseating, and it permeates my nostrils and seeps through my taste buds, burning it's undeniable identity into my brain. It's a familiar, but rancid scent. It reminds me of a dead armadillo roasting on the asphalt in the hot Arizona sun... the smell of death and decay. <br />
<br />
"Charlie! I need you out here now!" Randy yells from outside. The French doors leading from the bedroom to the backyard are open, revealing a terrified Randy standing in the middle of the yard, clutching his holstered gun against his hip. <br />
<br />
My father turns to me briefly, tears forming in his eyes, and says in his 'Officer Swan' tone, "Bella, please don't touch anything. Just stay right where you are. You don't want to come in here." <br />
<br />
I nod, fearing if I open my mouth I will scream or cry. My brain is still teetering on which route to take. Should it remain eerily calm and suppress all my emotions or allow the pain and fear to show through? <br />
<br />
Pulling the collar of my shirt over my nose like a mask, I attempt to breathe out of my mouth and filter out the putrid smell of the room. <br />
<br />
My eyes lock on Charlie as he scurries around the bed, hops over something on the floor on the other side of the room, and takes wide steps through the patio door. I lean a little into the bedroom, trying to follow him with my eyes as Randy leads him somewhere in the backyard. My body moves of its own accord, maneuvering around the furniture and stopping at the door as I spot Randy pointing out several objects in the grass. He leads my dad a few feet into the tree line, where I see my dad's body stiffen, then collapse to his knees and expels the contents of his stomach into the bushes. <br />
<br />
I tear my eyes away from him, allowing him a moment of privacy while he's sick, and glance around the room. <br />
<br />
Blood. There is so much fucking blood. <br />
<br />
Dark, red smudges trail from the center of the bed, down the side of the sheets, across the floor, and through the open doorway. I gasp and my hand flies up to cover my mouth as I take in the details of the room: bloody hand prints and splatters on the walls, clumps of auburn hair still attached to flesh on the pillows, and tattered clothing with similar dark stains like that in Edward's room. <br />
<br />
Edward. <br />
<br />
Oh my God, NO! <br />
<br />
As I turn to bolt from the room, I stumble backwards, bumping into the chest of drawers and knocking a few items off the top shelf. The sound of metal clanging against the wooden floor causes me to divert my gaze toward my feet and notice a small, gold ring. Just as I am bending to pick up the trinket and put it into my pocket, something catches my eye under the edge of the bed. It's hidden by the mattress' shadow, and I can't tell what it is, so I reach blindly into the shaded spot and pull out a firm, yet pliable piece of material. I move it into the light shining from the ceiling fan, needing to get a better glimpse of it, and screech at the top of my lungs. I drop the mangled, severed finger to the floor, watching it bounce and roll back under the edge of the bed. I stand frozen, unable to run from this nightmare room until Charlie and Randy rush back into the room through the patio door. <br />
<br />
"Bella! What?! What happened?" Charlie grabs my arms as his panicked eyes search mine. I stare at him, unblinking, and point toward the space under the bed. <br />
<br />
"F-F-F-Fin-Finger..." <br />
<br />
"Shit, Charlie. Get her out of here!" Randy yells. <br />
<br />
The realization that "yes, something horrible has happened" is finally settling into my head. There's no denying that shit. Ten million levels of fucked-up has happened here, and I've been trying to give it all the benefit of the doubt. I should have stuck with my gut instinct. <br />
<br />
Up to this point, I tried to rationalize everything, not wanting to believe all the clues: <br />
<br />
Missing persons? Masens could have gone on an extended vacation. No, they were dead. <br />
<br />
No communication? Batteries died in the cell phones. No, they were dead. <br />
<br />
Blood? Nosebleeds. A lot of them. No, they were dead. <br />
<br />
Fuck, Swan... what does it take for you to get the big picture? Severed fingers, apparently. <br />
<br />
Shock wins the battle in my brain, because I suddenly find myself sitting in the passenger seat of the truck, not recalling leaving the master bedroom. Randy's fumbling with the CB radio, calling for help, I think. Charlie is standing inside the opened passenger door, rubbing my back in soothing circles and whispering soft apologies, "I'm so sorry, baby... so sorry." <br />
<br />
I look up into my dad's eyes, noticing the red puffiness around them, and I reach my arms up, wrapping him in a hug. It's true... they're gone. <br />
<br />
"He promised he'd never leave me, Daddy. I love him so much." The tears start to flow now, but these are not the worried and panicked tears from the last few days. They are unfamiliar to me, ones of heartache and the destruction of my soul. <br />
<br />
He continues with his chant, "...so sorry, baby..." <br />
<br />
Randy offers my dad the driver's seat while we wait for the ranger and crimes scene investigators to arrive, but Charlie declines, not wanting to break our embrace. We hold each other for a long while, through bouts of sobbing and sniffling, until several sets of headlights shine in the rapidly darkening sky. <br />
<br />
A caravan of law enforcement vehicles emerge from the tree-shaded dirt road and park at the far end of the driveway. Randy rushes over to meet one of the deputies, points toward the cabin and the backyard, then returns to Charlie and me in the truck with the officer in tow. <br />
<br />
"Hey, Charlie? This is Officer Ronson. He's going to talk to you and then to Bella." <br />
<br />
Charlie squeezes me tightly. "Yeah, I know the protocol." He loosens his grip and looks down at me. "Bella? This officer is going to ask us some questions about what we found here today and about what's been going on before and after the Masens left. Are you going to be okay to do that alone? Some of them might be very personal questions about you and Edward." <br />
<br />
Just the mention of his name sends a searing pain through my heart, but I stare blankly at my dad and nod in response. He pulls away, giving my hand one final squeeze for support, and walks with Officer Ronson toward his patrol car. Randy is talking with two men at the front of the truck. The younger of the two is dressed in a dress shirt and tie. His hands are perched on his hips, exposing his badge on his belt and gun in his shoulder holster. The older man is dressed more casually, but carries the same badge and gun, and is writing in a small notebook. <br />
<br />
Randy gives them a report of the scene, but only a few words stand out among the rest: decomposition, gaping wounds, torn apart, missing limbs. <br />
<br />
NO! God, NO! Not my Edward... no! That wasn't Edward's finger, was it? <br />
<br />
I crumple against the tailgate of the truck; the weight of what Charlie and Randy saw in the woods causes me to collapse further to the ground. <br />
<br />
"Sweetie? Are you alright?" A deep, masculine voice says to me, but the sound is muffled and distant to my ears. I peer up at the familiar voice, faintly recognizing Ranger Tomlinson as he grips my arm and helps me to stand. "C'mon, let's stand up, hon." <br />
<br />
He sets me back into the open bed of the SUV, wrapping his arm around my shoulder to prevent me from tumbling out of the truck again. We are quiet for several moments, when I notice flashes of bright light flickering from inside the cabin. <br />
<br />
"Wh-What's going on?" My voice is hoarse and shaky. It's a rhetorical question, really, but I point toward Edward's window. <br />
<br />
"Oh, they are taking photos of the crim-, err, bedrooms." <br />
<br />
I close my eyes as he quickly corrects his slip, knowing what he was going to say. My father is a cop, for Christ's sake! We've watched all of the detective shows for as long as I can remember. I know that's what is happening inside the cabin, I just don't want to believe it. <br />
<br />
"The crime scene," I whisper to no one. <br />
<br />
Ranger Tomlinson gives my shoulders a gentle squeeze just as Charlie returns, wiping his eyes with the back of his hands. "Bella? Are you ready to answer some questions now?" Dad nods his head toward Officer Ronson and holds his hand out for me to take. He helps me off the truck bed and walks me toward the patrol car where the officer is talking with one of the detectives who was interviewing Randy earlier. <br />
<br />
As we approach, the detective gives me a sad smile and turns to head toward the cabin. <br />
<br />
"Miss Swan? If you will come and sit here?" Officer Ronson points toward the passenger seat of the cruiser. "I have a few questions to ask you." <br />
<br />
My father starts to extricate his hand from mine, but I grip his palm tighter, reaching with my other hand to enforce my tight grasp. <br />
<br />
"Bells, honey, he needs to question each of us separately. I'll just wait for you over by Randy's truck, okay?" <br />
<br />
I glare up at my father, tears streaming from my face, and now angry that he's going to leave me with this person who will ask me sensitive questions at a point when my sanity is in jeopardy. Oh, hell no. <br />
<br />
"NO!" I demand, my voice more harsh than I intend for it to be. After a few seconds, I try a new tactic - begging. "Please say you will stay with me, Daddy? Please?" <br />
<br />
He peeks up at Officer Ronson, gauging his response, and then nods. "Alright." <br />
<br />
The officer wastes no time and jumps right into the barrage of queries: How did I know the 'victims'? How did I know they were missing? When was the last time I saw them? Did Edward and I have an argument? Did I touch anything when I went inside the cabin? Did I touch or move the bodies? <br />
<br />
At first, I want to vomit over the thought of "the bodies", ripped to shreds and decomposing in the backyard. Referring to Edward and his parents as if they are mere objects and not real people, sounds so cold and heartless. The memory of holding that mangled finger in my hand causes a sudden shiver to rush down my spine. That was a part of a living, breathing human being. Someone I cared about and loved. It could have belonged to any one of them, and it was rotting away under a bed in a cabin in the middle of a god damned forest! I know the officer needed to stay emotionally detached from the situation, a stranger probing into our private lives, asking about someone that was special to me, but he didn't appear to be too sympathetic. Aren't there supposed to be grief counselors here? <br />
<br />
I answer all of his questions, some in detail, some in short, clipped answers. Others I can't even answer at all. To those inquiries, I plead to my father with my eyes, begging him to answer for me because it's too painful to think about right now. <br />
<br />
His final question sparks some life into me: Are there any recognizable features on Edward's body that would be easily identifiable? <br />
<br />
I was going to deny any visible markings, other than a few random freckles. He didn't have any noticeable scars or birthmarks... but he did have a new tattoo. <br />
<br />
"YES!" I shout, nodding my head furiously. I run my fingers over my left inner wrist. "He just got a tattoo right here. It was Latin for a Monarch butterfly; I don't remember how it's pronounced." <br />
<br />
"Okay, that helps. Anything else?" Officer Ronson scribbles diligently on his notepad and glances up at me expectantly. I shake my head 'no', and he directs Charlie over to a van to do my fingerprints since I had touched stuff inside of the cabin. Later, Charlie sets me back into the back of Randy's truck, waiting for word that we can leave to go home. That's all I want to do... go home and crawl into bed, fall asleep, and forget this entire day ever happened. It's hard to believe that several hours ago, I walked across the stage to accept my high school diploma, and now, I'm at the possible murder scene of my fiancé and his parents. <br />
<br />
This is the worst day of my life. <br />
<br />
Somehow, all of this drama doesn't trigger another breakdown. No tears, no rapid heart beating, no nausea. I'm either in complete denial, shock, or I'm just completely fucking numb. That last part scares me. <br />
<br />
A short time later, another van arrives and Charlie tries to distract me by asking random questions and pointing in the opposite direction. Sometimes I think he still sees me as an eight year old girl, needing to be sheltered from unpleasant things. Well, I'm not eight; I'm eighteen. I know there are dead bodies in the backyard, one of which may be Edward's. A part of me wants to run behind the cabin and see for myself if it is really Edward that's been torn to pieces by a wild animal. But I couldn't live with that being the last image of his beautiful face, his silky hair, and sparkling eyes that I would get to see. As much as I need proof for my own sanity, I don't want to tarnish the memory of Edward by seeing any more blood, mangled limbs, or decomposing flesh. <br />
<br />
And still, I feel nothing at the possibility of his corpse rotting away a few feet from where I sit. I just don't want to believe it. It's not happening. It's not real. <br />
<br />
Several more flash bulbs flicker through the night sky as officers and investigators collect more evidence and photographs of the surroundings. Several black garbage bags are taken from the cabin and placed into one of the vehicles; I assume they require further analysis. One of the detectives approaches us, detailing my dad and Randy with a list of the items that were removed and informing us that we are now free to return inside the cabin if we wish to remove any personal items. I am tuning out most of their conversation, lost in my own head and denial, when I notice a gurney being wheeled from the backyard, weighted with a bulky, black bag strapped to it. <br />
<br />
"Oh, God!" I wail, turning my face into my father's chest. <br />
<br />
Charlie glances over his shoulder to see what has upset me. "Jesus," he whispers, wrapping me tightly in his arms and rocking side-to-side. "I'm sorry you had to see that, baby. So sorry." He holds me for a few moments as they load the gurney into the coroner's van, and we watch them pull away, heading down the dark, dirt path. "C'mon, Bells. Let's see what we can salvage from inside, okay?" <br />
<br />
Charlie ushers me toward the cabin, weaving around investigators and through police-taped areas. Inside, there are several black powdered smudges along the door knobs and frames and a large biohazard sign taped on the door to Elizabeth and Ed Senior's room. Thankfully, Edward's room is not closed off, and I shuffle in, wary about touching anything. <br />
<br />
"They are already finished with their investigation in here, Bells. You can look around and take what you want, okay? I'll wait for you in the kitchen." Charlie nods his head in the direction of the main living area and leaves me alone in Edward's room. <br />
<br />
I run my fingers across the top of the dresser as I take in the mess the police made in here. More fingerprint dust along the door jamb and mirror, his bed stripped of its linen and pillow, bagged and tagged for analysis. I sigh sadly, wanting to have been able to hug that pillow and inhale his comforting scent all night, but I will have to settle for the rapidly fading one back in Phoenix. The nightstand holds his usual items: a tube of strawberry Chapstick, a tiny notebook with a figure-eight scribbled on the cover, his favorite sportsman watch, a pocket guide book of regional insects, and a crinkled picture of me in a bikini?! <br />
<br />
What a perv. I smile sadly to myself. <br />
<br />
I take the items and stuff them into the pocket of my shorts and turn to rummage through his closet. Shirts. Shorts. Hiking boots. Sneakers. The usual. In the corner of the closet, I notice Edward's duffel bag. Pulling it out, I sit on the edge of the bare mattress, checking the pockets and main compartments. Inside, I find a cluster of dirty, smelly clothes, probably worn while he hiked or fished with his dad. In one of the side pockets, I find his cell phone. I swallow the lump in my throat, knowing this was what he touched the last time he texted me. He probably kissed my picture on the caller ID before he turned it off. Peter always gives him a hard time about how "whipped" he is over me. I mash the power button on the phone and the screen comes to life. Edward's name pops up on the screen as the phone greets its owner, vibrating and chirping its "hello". I smile at the familiar sound, letting the memory of him picking the welcome ring tone because he said it reminded him of me, wash over me. He's so romantic. <br />
<br />
Was, I correct myself. He was romantic. <br />
<br />
"You ready to go, Bells?" Charlie calls from the hallway. <br />
<br />
"Yeah, gimme a minute." <br />
<br />
I empty my pockets and stuff all of his belongings and clothes into the duffel bag. I meet my dad in the kitchen as he's bent over the ice chest, shoving food into it. "Looks like they didn't eat all the bear meat..." <br />
<br />
Ugh. I can't... I don't... Jesus. <br />
<br />
I leave Charlie to his scavenging as I walk outside the front door, noticing Elizabeth's hammock near the treeline. I smile to myself, remembering a motherly chat she had with me a few years ago, when she tried to get Edward and I closer in our relationship. She laid down next to me on the hammock and rocked us back and forth, telling me that she noticed how Edward was looking at me differently. I questioned her about what she meant exactly, but she only smiled and said, "You've grown into a beautiful young lady, Bella. Edward's noticed." <br />
<br />
A flutter of pages from a nearby open book breaks me from my reverie. <br />
<br />
What's this? <br />
<br />
I pick up the novel, and flip it to the back, reading the synopsis. <br />
<br />
"Vampires?" I scoff. Figures. <br />
<br />
Suddenly, the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end and a chill shoots through me. I have the eerie feeling that I am being watched, but chances are that no one from inside the cabin would notices me by the hammock. It rested just against the edge of the yard in a corner, hidden behind Randy's truck. I shrug off the sensation and scamper back onto the porch, just as Charlie is wheeling the cooler out. <br />
<br />
"Let's get on the road, kiddo. We've got a long night ahead of us." <br />
<br />
We pack Randy's truck with the Masen's belongings and say goodbye to the cabin. It questions my belief in fate that the nicest, most loving family were viciously attacked in the one place they saw as their refuge from the harshness of the real world. They came here to escape the pressures of day-to-day life in the city, to unwind and relax, to seek out the beauty of nature and, in Edward's case, to capture it in little jars to study. But even in their little piece of heaven, here in the forest of the White Mountains, some evil creature savagely attacked these innocent people. <br />
<br />
I could understand if the Masens were out hiking and stumbled across a mountain lion's den, startling the animal and causing it to naturally defend its territory. Maybe even if they were to accidentally get between a mother bear and her cubs, causing her to lash out and kill them to protect her young. But for it to enter the cabin? Surprising them in their sleep and ripping their bodies to shreds? Dragging their corpses out of the cabin and into the woods? No. I don't believe an animal would do that. Jesus, what if they had still been alive when they were being pulled out of bed? <br />
<br />
Fuck. <br />
<br />
No, I can't think about that. I won't think about that. <br />
<br />
Whatever has stolen the life of my best friend - the man I was destined to marry - and the lives of his parents, has ruined all of our lives. One family wiped out, annihilated, the other left empty, broken, and forced to suffer without our loved ones forever. It's a tragedy any way you look at it. <br />
<br />
The three of us file into the truck and take a moment to watch the few remaining investigators and detectives. They quickly store the evidence and pack their equipment into the van before taking a final sweep of the property. As they move behind the cabin, out of sight from our point in the driveway, Charlie turns to look at me from the front seat. We stare searchingly at each other for a moment before he nods once, silently asking if I'm ready to go. I close my eyes briefly, release a heavy sigh, and nod in agreement. "Let's go, Randy," Charlie says quietly. <br />
<br />
As we pull away from the cabin, I lay my head against the glass of the passenger window, staring at the last place my Edward had been alive. Alive. It's still unfathomable to me that he's gone. The bright lights from the investigation crew start to fade into the night. I reach my hand up, touching the glass to try to hold onto him as long as possible, not wanting to let him go. Our trek down the dark, bumpy, winding road of the mountain seems like it takes seconds instead of nearly a half hour. As the tires of Randy's truck hit the smooth asphalt at the base of the mountain, I finally close my eyes and drop my fingers from the window. <br />
<br />
He's gone. <br />
<br />
As we pull into the parking lot of the ranger's station, Charlie speaks grimly, "Sweetie, I'm going to call your mother." He takes a deep breath to gather his emotions and lets it out slowly through his mouth, whispering, "I need to be the one to tell her." I nod and open the door, climb out of the truck, and automatically begin to transplant our cargo into Charlie's truck. My actions feel robotic as I concentrate on the current task at hand and don't pay attention to the goings on around me. I vaguely notice Ranger Tomlinson meeting Charlie in the parking lot and pulling him toward the building. I couldn't tell you the content of the conversation; my brain feels so cloudy, yet empty, that I can't focus on any meaningful thought. <br />
<br />
Once Randy and I have transferred all the cargo into Charlie's truck, I climb into the passenger seat and pull my knees up to my chest. Several minutes pass and I glance in the side mirror, spotting Charlie sitting on the curb of the sidewalk. His shoulders are shaking lightly and his cell phone is pressed to his right ear. I don't envy him at this moment. I can't even imagine how he deals with giving families the bad news as a police officer, much less dealing the same news to his wife. He's probably glad he didn't have to come home and break the news to me too; I was here and saw the gruesome scene first hand. Poor Renee, all alone at home in Phoenix. <br />
<br />
Charlie stands up quickly, snapping the phone shut and wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. Releasing a heavy sigh, he climbs into the cab of his truck, and offers me a small smile. He buckles his seatbelt as he pulls out of the parking spot of the ranger's station and out of the Apache-Sitgreaves National Forest. <br />
<br />
The radio plays for a distracted audience of two, the gentle twang of country music only masking the deafening silence in the car. We are lost in our own minds, replaying the last few hours over and over in our brains, or as in my case, contemplating my future -or lack there of- as we merge westbound on Highway 60. <br />
<br />
It's late - a quarter past midnight - and I'm completely exhausted. Today started out with the short-lived relief that I thought Edward had come home to find me in his bed this morning, but the disappointing reality was that there was still no word from the Masens. The entire graduation ceremony was a wash. I couldn't tell you what our Valedictorian said, or if I had even walked across the stage. Finding Edward was my focus, and everything else was background noise... like this fucking country music. <br />
<br />
I find myself suddenly frustrated with the slow, sad tune trickling through the speakers, needing loud, head-banging music to drown out my thoughts and to keep the tears at bay. I reach toward the knob and turn it, bypassing Mexican and hip-hop stations, until I land on classic rock. Nodding my head approvingly, I glance up at Charlie, gauging his response, before I crank up the volume. We are jamming to the sounds of Motley Crue as we cruise down the highway. The windows to the truck are rolled down, allowing the warm summer breeze to gust through the cab. The roads are dark and lonely, a sporadic street lamp illuminating the asphalt every mile or so. God, I'd hate to get stuck out here, in the middle of fucking nowhere. <br />
<br />
"OH, SHIT!" <br />
<br />
BANG! <br />
<br />
The car jolts and swerves sharply to the right, coming to a sudden stop on the gravel shoulder of the highway... right in the middle of fucking nowhere. <br />
<br />
What the...? <br />
SweetVenom69http://www.blogger.com/profile/16891131791448534680noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2259876397494509092.post-43028419563824420652010-02-27T12:01:00.000-05:002010-09-16T14:22:31.307-04:00Prologue <br />
Bella POV <br />
<br />
Resting my forehead against the sun-warmed glass of my bedroom window, I stare out toward the front yard, seeing nothing and everything at the same time. He was my whole life - my past, present, and future - but now he's gone forever. <br />
<br />
A heart-wrenching sob erupts from my chest as I realize how intertwined our lives had always been. Our mothers met in high school and had been the best of friends ever since. Both became cosmetologists, bought houses in the same neighborhood, and married cops. They were even pregnant at the same time. Throughout our lives together, Edward and I had to endure two sets of parents embarrassing us with praise, reprimanding us at will, and punishing us as their own. Because of that, we stuck together - sometimes as best friends, other times as partners-in-crime. <br />
<br />
My eyes focus on a florist delivery truck as it pulls into our driveway to unload another round of drab and morbid "sympathy" arrangements. It reminds me of the botanical gardens that Renee and Elizabeth took us to when we were eight years old. I had loved seeing all the interesting plants and pretty flowers. There were so many different kinds, and in every color imaginable. Some smelled bold like perfume or sweet like fruit, while others gave off foul odors, like rotten garbage. There were even some plants that lured insects and ate them. I always thought those were kind of creepy, but they happened to be Edward’s favorite. <br />
<br />
“Look at this one, Bella!” Edward pulled me over to a scary display of bug-eating plants. “It smiles really pretty at the bug to attract it in and then 'WHACK'!” He clapped his hands loudly to punctuate the force of the plant’s attack. “It kills it by squishing it and drinking its blood!” He looked back at the freaky plant with pure amazement. “It’s like a vampire plant!” <br />
<br />
“Ewww, Edward, vampires are so gross!” <br />
<br />
“Nuh-uh! Vampires kick ass!” Edward retorted a little too loudly. <br />
<br />
“Edward Anthony!” Elizabeth scolded, “Let’s go wash your mouth out before I feed you to those plants!” She grabbed his left ear and dragged him toward the far side of the gardens. Edward spewing apologies the entire way. <br />
<br />
“Looks like the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, Liz!” Renee chided and shook her head as she watched her godson being hauled through the crowd of people. <br />
<br />
“Don’t encourage him, Renee!” <br />
<br />
Edward’s parents had always been obsessed with vampires. Every year they host an extravagant Halloween gala, deck themselves out in vintage costumes, and even quote scenes from their favorite vampire novels for guests. They owned nearly every book ever written and every movie ever made that pertained to vampires. <br />
<br />
I smile to myself, thinking about the time when we were ten and had found a book under his parents’ bed titled Vampire Erotica. We didn’t know who this “Erotica” person was, but Edward thought she was a vampire superhero, while I imagined her as a princess. As we perused the book, we quickly discovered the lack of pictures, and I was very disappointed because I wanted to see an image of Princess Vampire Erotica's castle. Edward tried to read the story out loud, but the words and phrases didn’t make any sense to us, even though they were clearly English. He thought it was written in a secret code or riddle, but neither of us could decipher it. <br />
<br />
So many memories. <br />
<br />
My smile turns quickly back to tears as I realize that every single memory I have involves Edward in some way. He was there for everything... every day, every milestone, every first. <br />
<br />
When I turned sixteen, my dad finally allowed me to start dating. It was really a formality for his sake, since it was obvious that our lifelong friendship had blossomed into an innocent romance over that summer. For our first official date, Edward took me back to the botanical gardens. He said he remembered how much I enjoyed going when we were little and thought it would be the perfect place. <br />
<br />
And really, it was... perfect. <br />
<br />
As we walked through the gardens, I marveled at the assortment of plants and array of flowers. The gentle mist from the sprinklers caused a slight fog that floated throughout the enclosure, making it look so beautiful and peaceful - mystical, even. I imagined us living in a place where lush grass covered the landscape, soft moss blanketed the trees, and dainty wildflowers grew in hidden meadows deep within the woods. Things didn’t grow like that in Phoenix. Everything was so dry and hot, hard and prickly - all cactus and scorpions. To me, the desert looked so...so dead. I wanted soft and leafy, rich with greenery and blooms. I wanted a magical forest. <br />
<br />
“C'mon, Bella, I want to take you to see the butterflies," Edward released a lopsided smile as he grabbed my hand and pulled me into the butterfly exhibit. <br />
<br />
"Okay." I smiled back, gripping his warm hand tighter. <br />
<br />
As we entered the enclosure, our eyes widened and mouths gaped as we took in the sight of hundreds of fluttering Monarchs. Butterflies were one of the few things we could both appreciate. To me, they were like tiny, precious fairies or angels, delicately flitting around and sprinkling their pixie-dust pollen between plants and flowers. To Edward, they were bugs, and he loved bugs. He had such a fascination with insects that he was aspiring to be an entomologist. <br />
<br />
"I knew you would like it here," he beamed, and I wondered if he thought of this on his own or if Elizabeth gave him the idea. <br />
<br />
A splash of orange and black dashed between us and landed upon my left shoulder. Edward lifted his hand towards it, and it gently crawled up onto his wrist. He wrapped his other arm around my waist and pulled me closer into him as he told me about the life cycle and diet of the Monarchs, bringing the creature closer to me for a better look. <br />
<br />
"Oh, it's so beautiful," I whispered, admiring its delicate wings. <br />
<br />
"So are you, Bella." <br />
<br />
As the butterfly flew away, I looked up into Edward's piercing, green eyes. My cheeks blushed a vibrant red at his compliment, and his eyes flickered between my eyes and my mouth. Slowly, he reached up to cup my cheek, planting a sweet, tender kiss on my lips. <br />
Yes, it was definitely the perfect first date. <br />
The creaky sound of my bedroom door opening obliterates my trance, and I realized I've sunk down to the floor beneath my window and curled into a fetal position. <br />
<br />
"Bella, honey," my mom calls as she steps across the room and kneels beside me on the floor. "It's time to go. The service won't be very long, and then we can come right back home, okay?" <br />
<br />
With my body on autopilot, I don't even register that I'm being lifted to my bed, my shoes being slid onto my feet. I gaze blankly up at my mother's offered hand to stand and pull her into a tight hug. <br />
My voice, raspy and withered with emotion, I cry, "He's gone, Mom...they're all gone." <br />
SweetVenom69http://www.blogger.com/profile/16891131791448534680noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2259876397494509092.post-58440547192073993362010-02-02T20:40:00.001-05:002010-02-02T20:42:21.482-05:00Gynazole - by Mrs.TheKingFunniest motherfuckin' story I've ever read!! There's sharting, pervy Emmett, and Olive Garden mishaps. Funniest. Shit. EVER! If you need to piss your pants... this is the one that'll make ya. It's a total riot.SweetVenom69http://www.blogger.com/profile/16891131791448534680noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2259876397494509092.post-88294746426972269842010-02-02T20:35:00.002-05:002010-02-02T20:36:36.992-05:00Yes, Mr. President - by CourtRose<a href="http://s904.photobucket.com/albums/ac244/sweetvenom69/?action=view¤t=YMP.jpg" target="_blank"><img src="http://i904.photobucket.com/albums/ac244/sweetvenom69/YMP.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket"></a><br />
Who wants a romp in the Oval Office with President Cullen!? **waves arms in air like a maniac** ME! ME! Please and thank you. =D This little fic is hawt... I should know because I'm helping to beta this masterpiece!! WOOT! WOOT! CourtRose has all sorts of wicked little plans for The Chief, you don't want to miss this wild ride.SweetVenom69http://www.blogger.com/profile/16891131791448534680noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2259876397494509092.post-5226939224277958582010-01-18T11:19:00.001-05:002010-01-18T13:44:01.842-05:00SINFUL THOUGHTS - by readingmama<a href="http://s904.photobucket.com/albums/ac244/sweetvenom69/?action=view¤t=sinfulbanner.jpg" target="_blank"><img src="http://i904.photobucket.com/albums/ac244/sweetvenom69/sinfulbanner.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket"></a><br />
This story has a great - and by "great", I mean hawt - UST buildup... and THANK GOD EDWARD IS ADOPTED - that's all I'm gonna say! WIN!! =) <br />
OH, AND IT'S COMPLETE, TOO!! DOUBLE WIN!! =D A must read!SweetVenom69http://www.blogger.com/profile/16891131791448534680noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2259876397494509092.post-61855521633656062682010-01-16T21:38:00.001-05:002010-01-16T21:40:00.593-05:00La Canzone della Bella CignaI'll admit, I don't know shit about music, singing, or opera... but a few chapters into this story and I'm hooked. I thought it was AH, but I was pleasantly surprised. A few lemons, some drama, and a new education into the performing arts and I'm a fan. Check it out!SweetVenom69http://www.blogger.com/profile/16891131791448534680noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2259876397494509092.post-62209229731215514692010-01-16T21:34:00.001-05:002010-01-16T21:40:00.600-05:00CARAVAGGIOThis fic is hawt, hawt, hawt!! Edward is a troubled artist, commissioned to paint a portrait of Bella. He wants to paint her naked and in a VERY naughty position. <br />
LEMONS ARE FUCKHAWT! OMG. A must read!SweetVenom69http://www.blogger.com/profile/16891131791448534680noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2259876397494509092.post-80964589192729651862009-12-29T17:40:00.001-05:002009-12-29T17:43:43.225-05:00Emancipation Proclamation - Chapter 64 - WisdomI love how kharizzmatik switches up the POVs... I was expecting this chapter to be in Bella's POV, but instead it's Carlisle's. I loved hearing the history between Carlisle and Elizabeth. Put a whole new spin on this story. Elizabeth was a slave?!!? Say wha-? This story never ceases to amaze me.SweetVenom69http://www.blogger.com/profile/16891131791448534680noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2259876397494509092.post-77685647443805313842009-12-26T09:08:00.000-05:002009-12-26T09:08:50.234-05:00Late Night Encounters - by kyla713 Chapter 8 AnxietyThis chapter fast forwarded really quickly. I wasn't expecting them to actually meet in this chapter... maybe a few more in between his invitation to NYC and them actually meeting, but it makes me "anxious" to see what happens now that they are seeing each other in person. *Silently praying for steamy smexy-times ahead*SweetVenom69http://www.blogger.com/profile/16891131791448534680noreply@blogger.com0