Sentimental Heart by She & Him
Bella had gotten used to her nothing. Numbness. She ate, drank, went to school, did her homework, made dinner for Charlie, and tried to sleep. She never did get a
full night in though, she had too many nightmares to do that. Always the same, since the day he left her. Every night.
Cried all night 'till there was nothin' more.
Sometimes, late at night, she would late the pain take over. When she was trying to solidify his eyes, his face, the way he looked in the sun. . .
She would wither. 'Just as delecate as he used to say' she would think as she sank to her knees in agony.
What use am I as a heap on the floor?
She knew why she sank to the ground almost every night.
She still loved him. With all her heart.
"And I'll make you a promise in return," he said. "I promise that this will be the last time you'll see me. I won't come back. I won't put you through anything like this again. You can go on with your life without any more interference from me. It will be as if I'd never existed."
Heaving devotion but it's just no good.
He said I would forget. How could he even think that? He made them leave. He had tried to distance himself before he left. He must have known. . .
Taking it hard just like you knew I would . . .
Every now and then -- every night -- I would stretch my hand out to find his -- as she usually would, had he been there -- but realizing he wasn't there. She'd sob into her pillow.
Oh, old habbits die hard.
She soon realized, that the waves of pain came from a gaping hole in her heart. Making it difficult for her hard to breathe. She seldom ever let someone get into her heart.
It was very fragile. Very sentimental.
When you got, when you got a sentimental heart.
It was a very rare occasion when she felt she belonged somewhere. And she had, when she was in the meadow. It felt right.
But, she supposed -- like his empty parking space ( which should hold a shiny silver Volvo ) -- that there would be something missing.
Piece of the puzzle and you're my missing part. Oh, what can you do with a sentimental heart.
The only part of her heart still intact was her parents, and the smallest sliver for her friends.
Oh, what can you do with a sentimental heart.
Did he know that she would cry? Break down? Had he ever realized how much she had cared? He must have. . .
Cried all night 'till there was nothin' more. What use am I as a heap on the floor? Heaving devotion but it's just no good. Taking it hard just like you knew I would . . .
She'd pass her old biology room, if there was no one there, she'd sit in her seat and put her hand on the back of his. She'd almost break down, force herself to go to lunch.
Always having orange juice -- lemonade reminded her of the first day she'd sat with him -- when she would stare at the Cullen table.
She could see all of whom she loved, staring at the cracks in the walls as if she wasn't there. But, in reality, they weren't there.
Oh, old habbits die hard. When you got, when you got a sentimental heart. Piece of the puzzle and you're my missing part. Oh, what can you do with a sentimental heart. Oh, what can you do with a sentimental heart. Oh, what can you do with a sentimental heart.
Isabella Swan couldn't believe of all the songs for the school to have chosen to play, it had to be the one that reminded her of him. She hid her head in her arm as she tried to force the thoughts from her mind. She didn't allow herself to think of any music. It just reminded her of . . .
She abruptly stood up, she heard gasps from Mike and Angela. Though, she didn't care whether they saw her tears or not, she didn't care what anyone thought about anything for that matter. She sprinted as fast as she could, which was remarkably fast for Bella, and managed to do it looking rather graceful. As opposed to tripping on the flat surface of the linoleum panneling. She got in record time into her old and comforting Chevy and drove off, ditching the last 2 classes of the day. Which were the two that reminded her most of him, English and Science.
In her haste to get home, she blew out the engine as she inched it to go to 70 MPH. She left her truck at a small baseball field, which caused her more pain. But she roamed through the small field nevertheless. As she reached the pitcher's mound, she heard her truck stop wheezing.
So many thoughts were buzzing through her head, she actually wanted to turn the radio on. She didn't look at it as she pushed the large round button for it to turn on. She didn't want anymore reminders. For about five seconds, the music soothed her and then she heard,
Cried all night 'till there was nothin' more.
She jumped and while doing so, hit the stero very hard with her knee. She frantically hit the power button,
What use am I as a heap on the floor? Heaving devotion but it's just no good. Taking it hard just like you knew I would . . . Oh, old habbits die hard. When you got, when you got a sentimental heart. Piece of the puzzle and you're my missing part. Oh, what can you do with a sentimental heart. Oh, what can you do with a sentimental heart. Cried all
She had finally hit it enough to where it stopped working. She rolled her head back on the head rest and sob/panted, her grip tight on the steering wheel. After what had seemed like hours, she jammed her foot down on the gass and went as fast as she could in her truck, until she was at Charlie's house.
Mindlessly, she went into the kitchen and started some enchiladas. When she put them into the oven to finish, she grabbed a garbage bag and made her way out to the truck, tripping twice. By her finger nails, she pryed out the damned stereo and shoved it into the garbage bag. She was attempting to shove the wretched thing in the trash can, when she heard Charlie's crusier around the corner. She quickly hauled up the stairs and into her bedroom closet before she heard the car door slam. She went to the bathroom after she shouted a " Hi Dad." down the stairs. After she ran water over her bloody finger nails, she cut them and put on black nail polish -- it was the only thing that didn't show the blood -- and went to examine herself in the full mirror before going downstairs and facing Charlie.
Her gray converse were double-knoted and her slim jeans went over the tops lightly. Her hands looked fine and matched the color of her jeans, pure black. Her tight, long-sleeved, cotton gray shirt was a bit wrinkly and Bella smoothed it, taking a deep breath before looking at her face. Her lips were red and raw from biting them so often, her hair was very dark - there was no sun in November - and her nose looked normal. What concerned her most was the eyes, they were lighter shade, amber if someone looked closely enough, she had gotten them because she got pink eye and wanted to hide it somewhat. There were heavy bags under them, proof of her reaccuring nightmare. And she, an albino, was whiter than she usually was. She noticed vagely that she had a bored expression on, as if nothing supprised her anymore, as if nothing was shocking. As she gazed at the mirror, she felt as if she could see the future that was lost to her forever. As she looked in her reflection, she saw what Alice had surely seen.
She saw a vampire.