Future of the Past
By GoldenEyes
Disclaimer: I have no connection to Stephenie Meyer nor do claim to have written any of her works. This is purely a tribute. No copyright infringement is intended.
Okay, this is very important. We have some learning to do, everyone! Do you know what constructive criticism is? Can you spell that? Good, because I have received nasty reviews about this story, targeting my writing (which, frankly I don't really care about- that's your opinion, I appreciate your insight, just maybe without the use of swear words next time) and me as an author. Say whatever shit you want about my story, but don't tell me to fuck off and stop writing.
As for everyone who had reviewed minus the crude resorts to petty insults, thank you very much! I love getting reviews and learning from them.
AN- OMG!! You know what is soooo funny? People who have no life so they spend all their time sending anonymous flames. AHAHAha! And the best part is, they actually think they can tell authors to stop writing, after they say all the shit! Isn't that hilarious?! Like the author gives a crap!
On another note, I got another review, even if this story is sitting pretty much at the bottom of the Twilight section. Thanks, Chiaralou! I appreciate you taking the time to sift through to find this! Really great comments, too!! XOXO
AN: OOOh look, another new shiny AN. And you can't reply unless you come out of your anonymous shell. Goodbye.
It was drizzling, but to my ears it could have been a thunderstorm. A flat sheet of glass separated me from the world. But the one I had created was much better. I sat huddled in Jasper's lap, almost upside-down in his arms. My eyes were closed, smiling at the pressure of his wintry lips against my neck. This was the kind of moment I could spend eternity in. The gentle pit pat of the rain outside, the only one I really needed holding me. We were in harmony; the simple bliss of knowing we were each other's everything. He absentmindedly tucked a strand of wild black air behind my ear. "Jazz…" I murmured, reaching out with a pale hand to find his face, tracing the contours with cool fingers. It was all heaven-carved perfection. He grasped my wrist and pulled it to his icy cheek. I sighed. "I Love y-"
"WHERE THE HELL IS IT EMMETT?!"
My eyes jerked open, the requiem shattered, to find Rosalie standing in the doorway to the living room wearing nothing but a scarlet lace bra and underwear, and looking positively livid. I had forgotten she was even home. Her golden hair billowed in flames around her, her eyes narrowed eyes black as pitch. I could hear Jasper snicker. "What is it?" I muttered, frowning at her and peering over the couch.
"YOU SHOULD KNOW DAMN WHAT!" she strode in and threw cushions aside, plunking herself down opposite us, breathing fire. Her nails clawed at the embroidery of the armrests. "Where is it, Alice? You must have seen it!" She curled her marble fingers into tight fists.
I groaned, turning my self over so that I was upright. Typical Rosalie: angry, dramatic, and with no regard for privacy. I scowled. "You know, Rosalie, that my talent doesn't always show the exact whereabouts of your clothing."
From behind my lids, I could sense her rolling her eyes. "Alice! That's not fair! He's always saying I should wear less, but this is going too far! He hid it! All of it! I can't go to school like this!"
I smirked at the thought of the boys at Forks High staring at her. Still, the faster I got her out of here, then Jasper and I could resume. Even so, I have little patience for her when she's on this sort of tirade. She's the center of it all, regardless if it intrudes on ours. I could feel Jasper quivering with both our irritation. I crossed my legs and closed my eyes. "It's in the air vent in the attic," I said at last, settling back down.
"Are you sure?" she looked at me sceptically.
"Yes, Rosalie!" I hissed, "Now could you please leave!"
She groaned, but still stomped out and up the stairs, shouting threats. I'd hate to be Emmett.
I flipped back over to Jasper. "Sorry, where were we…?"
He chuckled. "You know, I've always wondered how that works, your visions." He gathered me up in his arms.
I traced the bluish veins at his temple, sighing. "It's not…well…you don't honestly want to listen to that, do you? We could-"
"Of course I want to hear!" He flashed me a seductive smile, "I want to know everything about you," He pulled me in closer.
I wound my legs around him and rested my chin on his shoulder. "Jazz…"
He swung around and bundled me to him, eyes sparkling. "Do tell, Alice,"
Well…" I began slowly, "It's not terribly exciting after you've had them as many times as I have, and they're rather difficult to explain…"
"Try," he whispered.
"Hmmm…well it starts with heavy darkness, all at once,"
"-And that's when I catch you?"
I nodded and smiled, remembering the many times when the visions have come on suddenly. "It's very disorienting," I added. "Then there's a flash of white light -Carlisle had a theory about that, something about time and light particles- and there's a scene before me. It's as clear as if I'm looking at you," I murmured in his ear. "Usually it's just a still image, like a photo. Sometimes it can be moving, when it's more definite. These often have sound, but it's like it's coming from the bottom of a well." I shrugged.
"Fascinating," Jasper murmured. "Still scientifically impossible."
I laughed. "Quite the anomaly, aren't I?"
"Aren't we all," he said with a grin. "I wonder…what was your first vision?"
I didn't have to think about that one. It was permanently imprinted upon me, and I would remember it forever. The best of my entire life. I pressed my lips to his, knotting my hands in his hair. I tasted his cool, sweet breath, and it was intoxicating. When drew apart, I wrapped my arms around him. "You," I said simply.