Hey there. Fanfiction is my guilty pleasure and I seek solace in it. After reading my fair share of fics; I decided to come up with something of my own. Hope you enjoy.
I do not own the fabulous Twilight or any of it's assortment of characters.
It was a bad morning for me today…Once I woke up to the sound of Bon Jovi on my iPhone, I groaned, concealing my head in my pillow, and reaching over to shuffle with the controls. But the sound didn't quiet, it got louder. What the hell? I leaned farther to pull the cord out of the wall, and fell out of bed. Unfortunately, the clock and everything else on my nightstand counter went tumbling with me.
Oh God! My iPhone! My now empty glass of water lay next to my drenched wet phone. Panic started to set in as I held the sodden phone in my hand. I was dead. My recorded interview with Marc Anthony for today's column was in this thing. I took a deep breath, willing myself to calm down. Maybe it would dry out and be fine, I told myself. Yeah right. Because water and pricey electronic devices go so well together.
I silently prayed that I had remembered to back it up before leaving last night. . But after remembering the day that I had yesterday, I was almost positive I'd forgotten. Yesterday I learned that my co-worker slash ex-boyfriend had cheated on me over Leah Clearwater, an upcoming singing sensation. I don't know how the asshole had the courage on taking me on a freaking date and tell me the news. Being the bitch I was when needed, I poured the entire beer bottle -which he had bought- on him before I left. I didn't care if that bottle was worth several hundreds; as if he did not deserve worse.
I somehow managed to pull myself out of my internal sprawling and get myself ready for the day, wearing a black rayon skirt, a sky gray turtleneck top and black sling-back heels. Being a page ten gossip columnist is not that easy; especially if you were that for Seattle's most read newspaper. I really felt Aro Volturi, the managing editor plus my technical boss underestimated my journalism skills.
I didn't mean to whine but sometimes I wished he could give me the first page articles. Anyway now I'm not complaining as people actually read my page rather than disturbing deaths or government mishaps. Seriously, would one like to read alarming alerts or good ol'Hollywood gossip? In addition to the supposed fandom of my work, I also had the privilege to interview hotshot actors of the industry and get exclusive red carpet passes. In the midst of my profession, I also was writing a romance novel which was half way through.
As I put on my heels that my best friend Alice had recently given me for my twenty-second birthday, I heard Pablo, the Great Dane of my middle aged neighbor –Chelsea Afton barking loudly. Tuning myself out, I turned on the T.V and watched reruns of Friends on ABC as I ate my breakfast. It was pretty irresponsible of me as I was already running ten minutes late while I was expected to reach office sharply at quarter past nine. I grumbled at the thought of snobby Jessica Stanley, the Human Resources correspondent sending me another tardy message. Gosh! I get a lot of these now days!
After I finished my supper, I noticed that the barking continued. That was odd because Mrs. Afton usually silenced the canine.
Taking my purse and keys, I walked out of the apartment and locked the door. Meanwhile, Pablo's howling was getting louder as I stopped at the threshold of Mrs. Afton's pad. So, I rang the bell to notify her of her dog's barking. Maybe she slept in, I wondered. Yeah Right! As if someone could sleep through this commotion. And big chance if that someone was an early bird.
Even after ringing the bell several times I received no response. Then I noticed that her paper was still lying on the doormat. That was funny because when I left for work the newspaper was never outside. After some repeated knocks, she still did not answer the door .I tapped impatiently as I was running really late. Pablo, her Great Dane, however, continued to bark with renewed vigor.
So then I tried the handle of her apartment's main door. It was, oddly enough, I let myself inside. I was surprised to be greeted by her pets on the hallway. Still no sign of her!
I then went to her living room and when I reached there I gasped.
There lay an unconscious Mrs. Afton on her plush Persian rug FACEDOWN! How could someone ever hurt her was beyond my imagination. I mean that woman was a fighter.I remembered one of the times I went for ice cream with her and she practically murdered some cheapo who attempted to steal her purse.
So I just rushed to her side and I could tell that not only was she breathing but also had an unstable pulse thanks to those life-saving classes Aro had made us take last summer. I then dialed 911 and waited with her for the ambulance.
Meanwhile I fed Pablo, Trace and John-the latter were her Siamese cats- who all had become unusually silent after I had ten minutes later, the door bell rang and I stepped out to see who it was. Hallelujah, the ambulance and police were here.
As the paramedics took the poor woman away, the cops started investigating the place. Some official came up to me and started asking me questions. I politely answered all the queries of Sergeant Newton, which I read from the man's name tag before indicating that I was running very late for work.
The force had apparently come to a conclusion that some creep had knocked Mrs. Afton from the behind. There were no signs of forced entry; so it had to be someone she knew. I racked my brain for someone with that alibi. I couldn't think of anyone.
After all the commotion had ended, Sergeant Newton asked me if I knew any relative of hers, I replied that I only knew of one-her nephew whom I had no clue of, Felix Afton.
Please tell me what you think and review. Thanks for reading my story!