Hey everyone! It's Mel AKA Point of Reason. Yeah, you know that one amazing author, your vennela? Well... I'm kind of doing a joint story with her.
And this is it. Well, it's the preface of it.
Chapter one is done, but you don't get it until Saturday. XD
Anyway, this is kind of what we thought would happen if Charlie didn't just let Renée go. What if he went with her? Well, since you know that Edward and Bella's relationship is all fated and such, you don't have to worry. Edward will make his appearance. XD
Anyways, let us know if it's a success or a bomb idea! I think it's pretty good, myself.
Oh yeah, and the whole thing will not be in the third person point of view. It will switch to Bella's after the preface.
Okay? Okay.
Love,
Mel and Vennela
Preface
Renée stared grimly out of the kitchen window. She had been trying to focus on finishing the dishes, but something outside had caught her eye. What was it? Oh, yeah – rain. It was raining. Again. It was always raining in Forks. Renée could hardly stand it! Renée felt it bringing her down a little bit more, every day.
Charlie was late coming home from work again – of course. The day she wanted him to get home on time more than any other, he was later than usual. Renée sighed and scrubbed harder at the burnt residue of last night's lasagna – she'd never been much of a cook – trying to scrub away her fury. Usually she was fairly tolerant of Charlie's demanding job. She would wait to eat until he returned, and then they'd sit down and have a conversation.
But today, his being late ticked her off to no end. The night that she had finally decided to make him decide what was more important in his life – this wretched town, or her. She'd have one last conversation about this subject and that was it. No more pleading, no more begging, no more anything.
She heard Bella crying from the upstairs bedroom. She raced up the stairwell to her daughter's blue room.
Bella was the one of the few good things that had come out of this marriage so far. Renée had never regretted that part of the marriage. She had never exactly regretted the marriage to Charlie either.
She regretted what Charlie had become.
She had wanted to move to somewhere sunny, free, but he had insisted that they move to Forks, to take care of his sick parents. His parents had freaking died five months into their marriage and the Charlie Renée had fallen in love with had been erased from the sober brown-haired man. Now and then, her Charlie would come out. 'Now and then' being once in a blue moon. He would come home from work when it was dark outside. She still hadn't complained.
But the cage finally got to her. She had grown up free, the beloved daughter of two happy-go-lucky people. She had always been free; her parents had trusted her enough to be limitless.
Even the thought of being in Forks for the rest of her life brought violent fear to her. She couldn't stand it. It was so gloomy, as if Death were always looming about. As if something bad would happen any second. The rain made the skies look like they had endless tears to shed.
She had painted the kitchen yellow, a feeble attempt to bring sunlight into the house.
It had bombed.
Renée reached over and lifted Bella from the crib. Bella needed to have her diaper changed.
Renée choked with pleasure every time she saw Bella. She had never thought about children until she found out that she was pregnant. Now, to think that Bella was her baby, her own flesh and blood…
Her baby…
Charlie's baby…
Charlie…
Charlie was, essentially, selfish. He refused to move, no matter how much Renée beseeched him. He insisted that this place held too many memories to let go of – that he couldn't leave his dead parents. Renée became livid every time she even thought of his ludicrous arguments.
She had had enough.
Enough of this unfortunate, secluded town, enough of Charlie not appreciating her, enough of this stupid, stupid gloom, enough of the same boring faces that showed up again and again, and enough of the damned rain.
The tears of anger, desperation for freedom, and grief started pouring.
Just like the idiotic rain pitter-pattering against the windowpane.
That was it. She refused to stand this one more second. She had no need to. As soon as Bella's diaper was changed, she marched to her closet, threw the minimal amount of clothes needed for a week or so on her bed and started scrambling for a duffel bag.
As Renée stuffed the clothes in the bag, her thoughts wandered to Charlie. How would he feel when he came home to an abandoned house? Not that he would care, he would just eat the stupid sandwiches in the fridge and go to sleep, thinking that she probably went grocery shopping, not bothering to wonder why someone would go shopping at that time.
He didn't care much about her anymore.
Renée filled Bella's bottle with milk and put that and her pacifier into the bag and zipped it closed.
She picked Bella up and settled her in the crook of her arm and marched down the stairs, wiping her eyes and grabbing the car keys. She opened the door.
There stood Charlie.
They looked at each other for a moment. Her husband was taking in her tear-streaked face. His eyes flickered to the duffel bag she was holding.
Well, here goes nothing… "Charlie… I can't do this anymore."
As soon as the words had left her mouth, she felt the need to look at the ceiling, at the floor, out the window – anywhere but at Charlie's face. "I'm… I feel like I'm trapped, Char. I need to get out! Forks… it's just… not for me. And I can't be here, Charlie!" Her voice raised a few octaves and the volume increased as a slight touch of hysteria crept into her desperate pleas. "And I won't let Bella grow up here. She needs to be in an environment where she can have some kind of experiences in her life. Forks doesn't have enough to offer. I'm leaving. And… if you don't come with me… the house isn't the only thing I'm leaving behind," she choked out.
Charlie stared at her for the longest time. Finally, in a strangled, tortured voice, he rasped, "My parents…"
"Are dead," Renée finished for him.
They stared at each other for a little longer. Finally, she moved past him and wiped her flowing eyes again.
"Bye, Charlie. Nothing personal, okay?"
She felt a hand reach out and take hold of her wrist.
"Just let me go, Charlie! It didn't work out, okay? I really hate Forks!" Renée screeched. She hated his grip. She hated grips in general, grips, holds, cages, nets-
"Wait…" he said. "I-I'll come with you."
Renée stopped short. She whirled around, a manic smile lighting up her face. "Really?" she whispered, daring to let her hopes get up.
Charlie's grim face broke into a small smile. It didn't quite reach his eyes, though. "Yeah, really. We'll go… someplace sunny. It'll be a nice… a nice change."
Renée's heart started beating much faster. It was as if the sun had finally broken out of the clouds in Forks.
"All right. I'll call a moving truck-"
"No, leave all the stuff here, Renée. We'll take very little. Let's sta-start over somewhere else."
Renée didn't have the emotional capacity to feel much guilt for making Charlie leave his beloved hometown, so she merely threw her arms around his neck and her lips onto his, thanking him with the most passionate kiss that she could muster.
