Wake up. Get shower. Go to school. Get home. Do homework. Go to sleep. Wake up. Get shower. Go to school. Get home. Do homework. Go to sleep. Wake up. Get shower. Go to school. Get home. Do homework. Go to sleep. Wake up. Get shower. Go to school. Get home. Do homework. Go to sleep. Wake up. Get shower. Go to school. Get home. Do homework. Go to sleep. Wake up. Get shower. Go to school. Get home. Do homework. Go to sleep. Wake up. Get shower. Go to school. Get home. Do homework. Go to sleep.
It was going to be a day, a day that was just like the one before it, and the one before it, and the one before it. I sighed as I rested my head against the steering wheel of my truck. I now had exactly nineteen hours before I would be able to sleep again. And then do the same thing over and over again.
Starting up my car I backed out and drove to school, my school didn't have fancy metal detectors or security cameras. No, my school had only one thing that kept its students from keeping the students from leaving early; the weather. I lived in Forks Washington, a small town on the Olympic Peninsula that was rained on more than any other place in the continental United States. The weather was a metaphor almost, a metaphor of my life.
Dark, depressing, never ending. God my life was…what? Depressing? Repetitive? Horrible? God I didn't even know. That was the worst part I guess, not knowing, which was probably the reason people feared death, they didn't know what was going to happen. I didn't care, I didn't fear death, if the Grim Reaper came knocking on my doorstep, well I would probably welcome it.
You know how they say people walk in and out of your life all the time? That's not the case with me. I had one person walk out on my life. That was my mother, Renee. She said that Forks was her own personal hell on earth, she said that Charlie didn't respect her enough. But I didn't believe that. I knew the reason. The reason was me. Now you probably think im being to hard on myself, but when your mother doesn't say she loves you, when your mother doesn't hug you when she leaves forever, when your mother doesn't even acknowledge you as she storms out the door…well what else are you supposed to think? My dad, Charlie, was the Chief of Police to the good people of Forks. I felt bad for him, he had to take care of me, I didn't really need help. We could never talk to each other without it being awkward, I don't think I actually had a heartfelt conversation with him since I was fifteen years old, and that was when his good friend, Billy Black lost the ability to walk due to a lifetime struggle with Diabetes.
A honk behind me blasted me out of my thoughts, I looked up and saw the single traffic signal in Forks had turned green. I pulled into the intersection and drove to the high school of my nightmares. Don't get me wrong I know high school is hard, but most people have someone to confide in, most people have someone to talk to. I didn't I was a ghost, no one knew me, no one cared about me. Well that's wrong I guess, the teachers loved me, so did the librarian so I guess that's something. Yeah, its something all right.
I shifted my rust-bucket into park and got out, shielding my books from the freezing rain so as not to dampen the pages. A car zoomed behind me and coated my back with water, I looked and saw a car that looked exactly like the one from that TV. show the Dukes of Hazzard. I knew who's car that belonged too, I knew who was in it too. Mike Newton and Howard Falcon, the two cutest guys in the school, at least according to Jessica Stanly.
As I saw the car pull recklessly into its parking spot I saw a car id never seen before, it was a black Mercedes, what was that doing here? I knew for a fact no one was rich enough to afford that. Not even Lauren Mallory, aka Queen Bitch.
I realized it wasn't wise to stand in the middle of the parking lot in the rain gawking at a car like an idiot and rushed into the warmth if the institution. Yeah, Forks high school an institution, that's a laugh. As I walked inside I saw a man, if you could call him that. He had professionally cut blonde hair and alabaster skin, his eyes were golden and he was as handsome as a movie star. He was carrying a black brief case and was smiling pleasantly as he passed me, or was he smirking? It was then I noticed that every girl in the hallway was staring at his backside. Oh yeah definitely a smirk.
Once everyone in the hallway had regained their senses they fell into the schedule that we all did every day. First period; Mrs. Henderson, surprise. I took all the notes she put on the board and answered every question she asked me. No one noticed that I always had the right answers, I was just a voice. Worst part about was, I didn't care anymore
Next Advanced Algebra 2, same deal, apathy was a crazy thing. God I wish…I don't know what I wish. A different life? An end to my life? Jesus.
Two periods later I was in lunch, with a salad under my nose, I ate alone. There are some kids that eat alone that are made fun of for it, not me, people didn't even recognize that I was sitting alone. My life was this sad.
Someone walked behind me, their side hit one of my books making them fall, I reached down to pick them up when the boy handed me them instead. He had piercing silver eyes and wavy blonde hair that was blessed with curls. His cheekbones were angled at a way that gave him the demeanor of a hawk. Gorgeous, absolutely gorgeous.
"I think you dropped these," he said, handing me my books. Oh God.
"Uhuh," I said like a complete idiot.
He smirked and placed them near my purse and began walking away looking at me over his shoulder, "see you around." He said vaguely and broke eye contact. He didn't look back.
It took all my willpower to keep me from hyperventilating, oh God, Howard just oh God. It was that thought that brought me back to reality, taking in a deep breath to keep myself from going on like a lovesick twelve year old I mentally told myself the cruel truth. That was a once in a lifetime conversation Bella, he doesn't care about you, he was just being polite.
Yeah, truth hurts.
Hours later, after getting back from the diner with Charlie I had another night of staring in the kitchen. What's so special about my kitchen you asked, not much it's a homey little thing, painted bright yellow by my mother to help invite the sun into the room. This was also where I cooked for Charlie when we didn't go to the diner.
Lastly, most importantly, it was where Charlie kept his gun
Remember how I said apathy was a crazy thing? Well this is where it applies the most, I was tired of my life, I was apathetic towards it, so yes I am suicidal. But, not in the way most people are. I was suicidal in the way that I just didn't give a shit, I was tired, so tired of trying to be happy, trying to do stuff that would bring a little sun into my life. I just wanted to rest, yet no matter how much I slept, I never got the slumber I needed. So yeah that's why this kitchen was so special to me, it held the thing that was the key to my eternal slumber. It would just take one pull of the trigger, and I wouldn't have to try anymore, I remembered the good old days when I was suicidal on how miserable my life was, now here I was an emotional cripple, yet still suicidal. God.
Despair.
Rage
Love.
Happyness.
Those are your four most powerful emotions, I felt love for Charlie, and I felt despair whenever I dared to let my self hope that my life would change, which was often. Happyness and Rage were foreign to me. Alien almost.
Now do you get why I say apathy is a crazy thing? Now you know, my names Isabella Swan, I'm seventeen years old and suicidal. Not because I'm sad, because I'm dead inside.
With one big bang I can finish the job. But you don't care no one does.
You don't even know my name.
So I grab the gun, and I go to my room, I think of thing's like my mother, so far away…I think of Angela Weber, the only person with a heart in town, I think of Charlie and I feel the hurt they he will feel.
But it's too late, far, far too late.
So I am in my room, I take the gun, nestle it against my breast, where my heart is beating like mad, I let one tear slide down my cheek.
Then I'm free, and I hear it, the sound of wings.
Yeah it's sad and depressing, I got an urge to write it. I know it staves from my usual stuff, try and bear with me.