Note: Huge thanks to: ajr818 for beta'ing A Journey Through Time for me.
Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight. All characters belong to Stephenie Meyer!
B's POV.
Isabella Marie Swan was in her backyard on a deck chair in short-shorts and a bikini top, reading Wuthering Heights again on her Kindle.
She'd been left alone once again by her mother and new husband. They'd been gone a few days, and she had no phone call or even a small note to say when they'd be back or if they were coming back, like they normally had the decency to do.
Bella was used to her mother's behaviour and odd disappearances, but for some reason, this time, she felt quite hurt and isolated from her mother's new life. Phil was a good guy, but he had no interest in getting to know her. He only had eyes for her mother, and she him.
It was like she didn't exist half the time, hell maybe she didn't. She sighed; she really didn't want to move to the cold and dampness and the greenery of Forks, Washington. But she couldn't continue living on like this.
She'd give her father a ring in the evening if her mum and Phil didn't show up again for a third night.
It wasn't fair to her, and now her mother had a new distraction; she knew that she herself wouldn't be Renee's number one priority. Hell, she'd probably forgotten she existed entirely, too.
It wasn't a nice feeling; after all before Phil and all her other male interests, it was always her looking after her scatterbrained mother and dealing with her eccentric ideas. That were more often than not, way over the top or a definite big, fat no-go.
When she felt her skin start to blister a little, she decided to go back inside and change into some jeans and a t-shirt. She'd been out there long enough, lost within her own muse, as usual.
What bugged her most about this escapade of her mother's and Phil's was that they didn't even bother to tell her, nor did she hear or see them go. It was most out of character and completely off the rails. Who knows? Maybe they were off the rails, so to speak.
As Bella walked into the kitchen, she felt a strange shift in the air that made her skin tingle and the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.
What the...? she thought as she looked around the room, trying to figure out what caused this reaction to her; she'd never felt it before.
As she walked towards the coffee maker to make herself a cup of coffee, she felt a tug deep in the core of her belly.
Bella tried to fight the pull, her eyes fixed firmly on the coffee machine, ignoring the more obvious tingle over her skin, and the room start to give this strange glow. She'd almost reached the coffee maker when the tug in her belly got stronger, and it felt as though she was being thrown backwards.
Hell, for all she knew, she could be being thrown backwards as she'd closed her eyes for a brief second. Not even a second but kept them closed as she felt as if her feet were no longer on firm ground, or whatever was happening around her.
Edward's POV.
He was heading back from the bookshop with his usual newspaper, "The American Times," which he'd picked up from a free-stand on the way home, when he suddenly felt the air shift as he walked down an alley, dodging the odd bicycle left in a not so helpful position against the wall of a house.
Edward paused mid-step when a strange tingle sensation took over his body. He went to continue on walking, only to discover that he couldn't move his feet and almost fell flat on his face on the pebbly ground below.
He tried again; this time a little less forcefully but still a no-go. He rolled his newspaper up and glanced at his feet in confusion, wondering what the latest sweet was out there that could cause this kind of problem.
He cringed as an idea flooded through his mind. He hated getting his clothes any kind of dirty, especially walking socked footed in these alleys. Who knew what dirt or sharp objects lay on the ground before him?
Edward bent down to untie his laces and went to move his feet out of his shoes, and he succeeded. He felt a wave of triumph wash over him as he got his foot out of his shoe and went to step forwards, reluctantly going to place his foot on the pebble path, only to find he couldn't go any further than the edge of his shoe. He groaned.
He briefly checked if he'd had any alcohol today and came up with nothing, not a single drop. He'd only had what he'd made, and that was non-alcoholic. So what was happening around him?
Edward went to reach out with his hand, only to find a barrier in the way. Looking back over his shoulder, he noticed he was half way down the pebble alley, and all he could hope was some nice person who owned one of those bikes would come out and see him.
Just as he was turning around to look back in front of him, he felt a heavy weight collide into the side of him, and he went tumbling down, breaking through the... whatever the invisible blockage was that stopped him from moving and hit the pebble flooring below him.
He didn't even care in this precise moment that he's lying on a dirty pebble alley flooring; he'd have to thank whatever or whomever it was for crashing into him as he felt his feet no longer sticking to the ground.
Edward groaned as he heard another groan join him—a very feminine groan. He turned his head a little, only to find his vision clouded by what appeared to be a long main of hair from what he could see in the dimming light—beautiful brunette hair.
He did not know what to do as he lay there on the dirty cobble path. The stranger who crashed into him was clearly a woman and had passed out not long after their joint groan at the impact of the crash.
Could he call it a crash? Because he was pretty sure she didn't fall into him from walking past him; he was almost one hundred percent sure she fell from the sky as she collided with his shoulder, sending him flying to the ground.
One thing he knew for sure was that his feet were no longer stuck, and the air around him seemed normal. He didn't have that tingling sensation running through his veins anymore, and he could tell that whatever the barrier was that had stopped him from moving forwards was no longer in place. The only thing he felt was a warm feeling from where she lay across him.
Edward glanced up at the sky and noticed the clouds above were turning a dark blue and indigo colour, so he decided it was best he get moving before his parents sent out a search party. But what to do with the girl?
Should he leave her? A strange feeling washed over him that he couldn't put a name to, which he didn't understand, considering that he barely knew the girl who crashed into him, but at the tiniest thought of leaving this woman, his insides crawled, and it almost felt as if there was a strangled animal trapped inside of him that was ready to tear his own self apart at that small innocent thought.
What do I do? What do I do? he thought over and over again as he sat awkwardly, moving to cradle the girl's figure in his arms. He moved some of her hair away, ignoring her strange clothes and focused on her passed out but pretty face as he decided what to do with her.
He almost didn't care that he spent God knows how long, flaying on a dirty ground, and the sky above was almost dark, and the summer air had turned noticeably cooler.
He replayed the same question over in his mind before standing up.
Hey all!
What do you all think Edward should do? Follow his instincts or take Bella home?
I would also like to ask if anyone knows about concrete main events in history that took place in Chicago in 1917 - 1918?
I've tried looking, but Google's proving confusing. Plus I'm British and do not know much about American History.
Will appreciate any help.
Aine :)