Hey guys. This is my hand at a Twilight story. Some of you might know me from my story Silent Sorrows (which is a Maximum Ride fanfic), but I have decided to try something a little bit new. I don't really like the Twilight books too much, but I think the characters hold a lot of potential to tell a great story, so I hope that I can put something together that is fairly entertaining to read. Please enjoy, and when you are finished, be sure to let me know what you think.
Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight or any of its characters, they belong to Stephanie Myer, I only own this story's plot.
You never really think about the way you're going to die. At least, I never used to think about it. Now though, when all I can feel is hell fire burning through my veins, all I can think about is any other way I would rather die than this.
This wasn't how it supposed to go—my life that is. I was supposed to get a job I actually liked doing, I was supposed to meet a nice guy and fall in love, I was supposed to get married and live life to the fullest, I was supposed to die when I was old and seen all I had needed to see, I was supposed to do all that I had to do. But none of that happened. I took the wrong turn down the wrong street and everything came to a screeching halt. I was walking and walking and walking and then it was dark, and then the burning started.
I thought I knew pain. I was clumsy enough growing up, that I thought I was well acquainted with pain. I thought I had a tolerance for the sharp stabbing that came with pain. But I had never been more wrong. This pain was all consuming and filled my every thought, it controlled my very being. And I was sure that I all I would ever know was this burning, I thought I would spend an eternity in pain with nothing to distract me from the torture that was my continued existence in the midst of this pain.
After what seemed like eons, the burn began to go away and all I could do was thank the heavens that relief was coming, even if I felt like it had come far too late. Slowly, slowly, and more slowly still the pain receded from the tips of my toes and the tips of my fingers. Slowly, slowly, and more slowly still the pain left my legs and my arms. Slowly, slowly, and more slowly still the pain centered around my heart that rest excitedly in my chest, beating so fast I thought it would surely break through my ribs and rip through the skin that cover my chest. And then it all just stopped. Everything ceased to be. My heart no longer beat, my lungs no longer expanded, and the fire no longer burned. A moment… and then the fire came back raging. Only now it existed only in the base of my throat, and somehow this fire burned hotter than the flames that had raged through my veins what felt like only moments ago. But to be honest, I could not say how long the pain lasted. It could have been minutes or years, it had certainly felt as though an eternity had come and gone.
The first thing to cut through the fog of pain in my throat was the sound. A single inhale. And what scared me the most was that it was not my own breath. I was not breathing. Why wasn't I breathing? A second inhale, and that is when my eyes shot open.
A room. I was lying down in a room, on what felt to be the floor. Rough floor with bumps to numerous to be counted. I don't remember floors being this uncomfortable. Come to think of it, I don't remember much of anything. Try as I might, I could not remember how I got to this room, I could not remember the faces of my parents, I could not remember what state I was in, I could not remember how old I was, and I could not remember my name. What was my name… Bella! My name is Bella, I think my name is Bella. I was born in Forks, Washington to Charlie Swan and… Renée, whose last name is now Dwyer, but it wasn't. Her last name is Dwyer because she married a man named Phil and he plays baseball. Charlie is the Chief of Police and I lived with him in Forks. No, I moved to live with him in Forks from Arizona when I was 17. Then I moved for college and I got a degree in Journalism from Baylor University in Waco, Texas. I live in Texas. Is that where I am now?
Inhale.
I jumped up from my position on the floor and backed myself into a corner of the room furiously looking for who was breathing. Opposite me, I saw a man. A grown man. He was tall, really tall and had dirty blonde hair that was nearly to his shoulders and windswept. However, I didn't really take too much notice of any of this, it only registering in the back of my mind, because all I could focus on was the fact that he had red eyes. The irises were crimson red and deep, and they were staring directly at me. I opened my mouth to speak, but sound refused to come out. I closed my mouth backed further into the wall. That's when a second sound registered, a low growl. And it was coming from me. I gasped and fell to the floor, the stranger's eyes never leaving my form as I grasped my chest and tried to figure out how I could growl. As far as I knew humans couldn't make growling noises, but then again I also thought that humans had to breathe. I still wasn't breathing. Why wasn't I breathing?
I took in a deep breath through my nose and the moment I did, I smelled whiskey, leather, and tobacco. It was an oddly pleasant scent, one that on some weird level made me feel safe. Very safe, though in this situation I should anything else but safe.
It was during this revelation that the stranger finally spoke
"Hey there sugar, you just keep calm now." When he spoke, his words held a deep southern drawl, as if he'd lived in the south his entire life. I cocked my head at the endearment, did I know him? I don't remember him, but I don't remember much.
"Now, I know you must be very confused, that's to be expected. My name is Peter and I am the one that brought you here." That growl again. Was he the one who made burn? Was he the reason for my pain?
At that moment, all rational thought left, and I lunged.
Fin.
Please leave a review letting me know what you thought and any (constructive) criticism you may have.
Have a beautiful day!
~MissunderstoodPoet~