Hey all, when you get to the italics, listen to the song 'Let Go' by Frou Frou to really get into the story. Only if you want to though. Thanks
The night before my transformation-- I was scared. I offer congratulations to anyone who has ever before felt the sting of vampire venom in their veins and still anticipated more of it raging through their blood. I am not that strong. But yes, I was anxious. Not that I would have ever said so aloud to anyone, most of all my ever-present angel, Edward, who hovered at my elbow night and day searching for any sign of distress. I'd like to think I successfully hid any nervousness. I know better though. I was nervous, and it was not for fear of living alone . . no, I knew Edward was and always would be the love of my life for as long as I lived . . .died . . . God, it was confusing.
But somewhere, deep inside of myself, I kept thinking about the so-called normal, human life I would have had, should have had, the boring, same-old nothing-special American life I would have led had it not been for the supernatural quirk that the most important person in my life just so happened to possess.
Not that it was all Edward's fault, Charlie figured in there too, somewhere. I had after all come to live with him, the action that had admittedly set off this wild cacophony of bizarre events in the little town of Forks. Mind you, not that I was lusting after the average teenage-girl's lifestyle or anything, most teenage girls I knew left a lot to be desired . . but still. I had to wonder.
So it was with those thoughts that I found myself on the border of La Push at two o' clock in the morning. I wrenched my rumbling red truck off to the dusty shoulder of the almost non-existent road leading into the village and slammed on the brakes, eliciting a metallic scr-EEEEE from my dilapidated baby. Any passerby could easily have drawn the conclusion that I was begging for attention with antics such as those, but the truth was that despite my supreme desire to be alone, with my truck, silence was not a possibility.
I thought of Edward's month old offer to buy me a new car. It still stood, and I grudgingly admitted that it actually sounded appealing now. I of course had declined his first offer to ornament Charlie's driveway with a new chunk of chrome and leather-- I had been argued with for a lengthy bit of time--finally (and loudly) declared 'Fine! I'll get a stinking car but it has to be used'--whereupon Edward had thrown up his hands and stalked from the room, throwing the checkbook he had made readily available for decimation to the floor.
You'd think a vampire would be capable of throwing a more impressive hissy-fit, complete with broken windows or at least an ultimatum. Weren't they supposed to be dangerous?
--Back to La Push—
I slammed (the only way the door closes) my way out of my truck and shoved all wayward thoughts to the warm winds licking at my bare shoulders. I wore merely what I had rolled out of bed in scarcely a half hour prior, an old, stretched out pair of Charlie's flannel sweats and a faded tan tank top, a combination that warranted comfort and not much else. Not that I cared what I looked like anyway, and pushed on down to the ocean.
It was not my usual spot, not on First Beach at all but rather on an obscure inlet I had found one day long ago on a hike with Jacob. I was surprised that I still remembered how to get there, and was even more taken aback at the fact I only fell once. The moon lit my way and I found that I was not afraid of the dark shadows at my back, the hidden leaves brushing my ankles, the sudden snapping of sticks beneath my feet. I busied myself by taking in everything, from the mosses and lichens silently decomposing fallen wood to the salty tang of the ocean I knew was just beyond one last row of scrubby pines.
This is it, I thought. Take it in while you can with your stilted human senses. This is the last time. I kicked off my flip flops and pushed through the sandy soil, watching my silvery feet carry me steadily toward the shore. Suddenly, I emerged, past what I believed was a knot of poison ivy growing up an old stump and out into the clear night. I was allergic of course, but who cared? I wouldn't feel the effects tomorrow, certainly.
I focused on the steady hush-hush of the waves, closed my eyes for a moment, honed in on the night sounds, all the growing and sleeping things all around me. I had never been much of an outdoors person, but this was so . . beautiful. Why did I feel like this was my last night to live? It was only the beginning. Only the beginning. With that there were salty tears falling from under my closed eyes, dripping down my chin, my nose, falling to my shirt as I bowed my head, as if to hide my contorted, crying face from the moon.
I wondered if anyone else had ever been faced with such a decision. It was not entirely impossible. An image of a girl in Victorian dress pacing nervously by her window, waiting for her pale lover flooded my mind. It could have happened. It made me feel fractionally better.
I lifted my hands to my cheeks, touched my tears. Vampires can't cry, you know. Came a voice deep in my mind. In a way this was so like my last day of life. Tomorrow would be filled with so many alien beginnings. I thought back to the school year, how I had always relished deep night like this, a time perfect for reflection. Now, I was not so sure I wanted to reflect at all. I didn't was to see the indecision that was probably written all over my face, drenching my tears so they were heavy with doubt as they slipped from my jaw.
I sat in the sand, turned my face out to sea, and traced my wet fingertips through the tiny grains, surveying the black and white landscape that the moon had created. I sang one of my favorite songs waveringly, softly.
drink up, baby down
mmm, are you in or are you out
leave your things behind
'cause it's all going off without you
I choked out a sob, turned my eyes to the sky.
excuse me, too busy you're writing your tragedy
these mishaps
you bubble wrap
when you've no idea what you're like
So let go, jump in
oh well, what 'cha waiting for
it's all right
my voice wavered.
'cause there's beauty in the breakdown
My head dropped.
so let go, just get in
oh, it's so amazing here
it's all right
'cause there's beauty in the breakdown
I barely whispered a reprise
oh, it's so amazing here
it's alright
'cause there's beauty in the breakdown
This is it. This is the breakdown. All my hopes, fears, desires, perched on one ledge jockeying for position. I had never felt so clean of any emotion. But the tears kept coming. The music faded from my mind.
Soft footsteps.
A werewolf had come to sit beside me. Jacob. He tilted his head, his eyes unreadable in the dim light. He whined, a low, plaintive sound. He stretched out to lay by me in a rush of sand, and put his enormous head in my lap. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, looked to the sky. He knew what I needed right now, a furry security blanket. I almost laughed, but closed my eyes instead.
He was always so good to me. Sometimes a brat and a jerk, or a bratty jerk, but he had always been there. I owed him this last night with me.
"Jacob, you're so good." A throaty sound crackled through the air, a werewolf chuckle. But my pajama pants were soaked, and I realized, he was crying.
--Read and review, all comments are helpful . . . this could turn into more than a one-shot, but I'm not yet sure. Thanks!