AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is a fanfic based on New Moon. Bella never jumped off a cliff, Alice didn't see a vision of Bella dying, so Edward didn't come back. This is set about 7 years after Edward left Bella. Bella is now a famous songwriter named Isla Soleil...soon, because of her music, Isabella will find Edward back into her life. And this time, she will try to keep her distance. Can she keep him away when her passion for music becomes synonymous with her passion for Edward? I know that my summary sucks, but I work hard for this story. My first fanfic, please be gentle with your comments. ^_^
DISCLAIMER: The stories Twilight and New Moon, its characters and plot, are sole property of the author Stephenie Meyer (she rocks, by the way!) She inspires me to write this fanfic. The songs that I will incorporate into this fanfic are also the sole property of the respected owners. I don't claim to own their songs, they are only used for the purpose of writing this fanfic. They happened to be very inspiring. I don't own anything except some tofu and a lamb stuffed animal.
enjoy...
It's amazing how someone can break your heart but still love them with all the million pieces.
CHAPTER 1
Obscure Night
Over 500 channels and nothing to watch? It seems like I almost want to believe that television is just a distraction for people who are unable - or even unwilling to think for themselves. It is totally unnecessary! Okay, maybe that statement is mildly untrue. Charlie always spends his time indoors watching T.V, but I definitely do not think that he's unable or unwilling to think for himself. He's just a big sports aficionado, that's all! If he can watch every game live at his own backyard, I don't think he ever wants to go inside again… unless needed - like some human moments! In the meantime, T.V. is his only medium to enjoy a simple pleasure. He doesn't need it as a distraction!
So what am I doing with a remote control on my hand? I frustratingly turn off the "distraction" and toss the remote on the couch. I sat by the floor-to-ceiling window of my penthouse…to ponder, or more precisely, to reminisce.
Distraction! I loathe that word! I suddenly remember someone explaining to me how his memories can easily be managed.
"I won't forget. But my kind…we're very easily distracted."
Ha! Good for him! I know at least one of us has it easy. I, on the other hand, have to suffer just to keep those musings at bay. My memory is definitely far from being a sieve.
"Time heals all wounds for your kind."
How I want to prove him wrong! Father Time is definitely not on my side here. I have suffered before. I still suffer now. I definitely know I will grieve some more…maybe even for life. I am just not certain how much longer I can endure this endless agony before my head snaps and succumbs to insanity. Maybe by then, in a padded cell, I would be able to forget. For now, time doesn't ease the pain. In fact, it doesn't do anything but pour salt on my wounds by constantly reminding me how long he has been out of my life.
Seven years, four months, two weeks, and five days. That's exactly how long since that fateful day when he pulled me toward the forest from our yard to "talk." I remember everything like it just happened yesterday - the voice in my head saying that this "talk" seemed to be a bad idea; how his expressions were unreadable when he said that they were leaving and explained that it was time for his family to move - because they have to start over soon somewhere; the feeling of nausea as I finally understood that I wouldn't be coming along; the sound of my beg when I desperately wanted it to have the hint of anger as I tried to convince him that he was the very best part of my life; his grim words to me like "My world is not for you" or "As long as that was best for you"; my selfless plea of asking him to take my soul - if that was the only thing that bothered him, it was his already as I wouldn't want it without him.
But there were three things - three particular things he said that night which throb every waking moment, still even up to this day - three things that constantly tear against my unhealed wounds like a serrated edge.
First, when he expressed that I was no longer wanted. He said it unapologetically. His eyes were like topaz that held no contradiction to the words he'd spoken. I wasn't good enough for him. Of course, I knew that. I knew that all along. I was actually scared to even think, let alone admit, that this wonderful creature would even want me. It seemed too good to be true that a handsome knight in shining armor, who gleams and sparkles under the sun and is capable of doing almost everything, would want a plain, clumsy, and most importantly, fragile human like me. I'm not suited for him - I never was! It was his declaration that I wasn't good for him that finally confirmed my fear.
Second, he mentioned his family been long gone even before that damned "talk". He only stayed behind to impart the bad news. His family, that I took as my own, had left without even saying goodbye. I was hurt…definitely hurt. Actually, I was devastated. They were convinced that a clean break would be better for me, or rather Edward had them convinced. Either way, they still thought it could be true. It seemed to them like cheesy and awkward goodbyes might mean a more difficult and longer time for the human to move on, to heal more easily. Nevertheless, I think it was rude. At least, they could have said something, even just a simple note on a yellow, crumpled post-it would do. A "good riddance" or a "cheerio" would even suffice. I didn't want any long explanation for the sudden urge to leave. I just wanted to feel, even how miniscule it could be, that I was somewhat important enough to bid farewell to. It would be polite, it would be respectful.
Lastly, he made a promise. Of all the promises he made, this one seemed to be the only one that will remain unbroken. He said that it will be the last time I would see him. He wouldn't come back. And that, I could go on with my life without anymore interference from him.
"It will be as if I'd never existed."
I could swear that I felt my blood pounding faster than normal behind my ears. Then all of a sudden, he seemed to sound far away. That was when he mentioned that I needed not to worry so much, for my recollection was nothing more than a sieve. How I really wish that I could prove him wrong!
I felt hurt, miffed, indignant, embarrassed, betrayed. I have never felt so unwanted in my life. I thought that he, together with his family, had loved me. Maybe they had, it was just never enough. Or maybe it wasn't love after all. I am more convinced that my case could be just a sudden onset of amusement for all of them. After all these years of existence, who would have thought that one silly human, who was willing to offer her neck and the rest of her circulatory system for one well-to-do vampire, dreamed to belong in their family?
Let's see how long this absurdity will last. Maybe Edward will realize that what they are doing is ludicrous!
He doesn't love me. He never did, and most possibly, never will. It was just an infatuation, an infantile fascination. That's the only reason that could explain why he left, why they all left. He said it himself. It was time for a change. He had let this ridiculous relationship, if he would call it a relationship, much too long. The pretention was finally over. Their amusement towards me had run out. I was no longer a joy to them!
But of course he would always love me…in a way! What way is that? I have no freakin' idea! Maybe it would be like how someone would love his pet goldfish after it died and got flushed down the toilet…unimportant, irrelevant, of no great concern. That's how I felt when they left me out. Actually, it was more like a "live" goldfish that was forced to go down the drain because he couldn't take care of it anymore. They killed me. He killed me.
I remember the light, unnatural breeze that I felt when he passed by me to finally leave me in the forest. Instead of going back the way we came from towards my house, I walked. I walked forward endlessly that night, without even thinking, but just a firm conviction of looking for him. I felt the need to look. I couldn't stop, because if I did, I knew then it was over. I didn't want it to be over. But he was nowhere to be found. My life…my love…my meaning…it was gone. He was gone. Somebody died in that forest that night. Somebody died in the worst possible way, and it was me. I died… of a broken heart, of a broken soul.
I recall the rescue that was made after long hours that I stayed down on the muddy forest floor, curled up into a ball. That night, the sky was utterly obscure. There was no moon, but a lunar eclipse…a new moon. How much more bizarre could it get, for it was definitely the new moon of my life, it was certainly the darkest time in my existence.
Sam Uley found me in the forest. He handed me to Charlie while explaining that I didn't appear to be hurt, just maybe a tad shaken since I was constantly uttering "He's gone" all the time. We went home. Dr. Gerandy checked up on me and asked me if I was hurt. I replied no, just true enough to what he was asking, because I was definitely not just hurt, I also stopped living.
I gave them a story that I got lost in the woods, and said I was tired. He finally gave up on interrogating me and just advised Charlie to let me sleep it off. It was just exhaustion. How I wished it was only that! How I wished that I could only sleep it off and then everything would be back the way it was!
I drifted in and out of alertness, as the rescue volunteers left one by one. Charlie had been very worried, and yet, been very good in taking care of me. Every now and then, I would feel his fingers touching my forehead. At one point, he even placed a blanket on me. He would even hurry to catch the phone as it would ring a few times, so as not to disturb my rest. I knew he was hurting, too. He didn't deserve any of that. It was my fault, and my fault alone, to be such a stupid naïve lamb and be trusting. I should be the only one agonizing.
Later, the sky was no longer dark, and the sun started to rise behind the rain. It was then Charlie started asking me questions about the event that just happened a few hours ago. He showed me a note, with a messy handwriting that was incredibly similar to my own, saying that I was going for a walk with Edward. A note! That's when I realized that someone had been in the house to leave a note for Charlie that would lead him to find me! I covered my ears as I didn't want to participate from my dad's inquiries anymore.
I rushed to my room as I had this terrible notion starting to form in my head. I, then, started to look for them, for my gifts, for his pictures, for anything and everything that could remind me of any of them, of him. The CD player was empty. The album that Renee gave me for my birthday was still there. But I knew that there was a picture of Edward on the first page, except it was blank. Only my handwriting was left…Edward Cullen, Charlie's kitchen, September 13.
Just like he promised…it was as if he never existed. I didn't have to look any further. I knew he would be careful and not leave anything out. It would be no use to find the rest. Besides, I felt like my body turned into jello as I fell and met on the floor. I didn't black out. I wish I did because it would mean that I only lost consciousness, and that, sooner or later, I would wake up again. It seemed like I was falling into a deep dark hole, and there was no escape. If I died in the forest that night he left, this time, when he tried to erase his memories, I was sent to hell. I didn't know how, and if ever, when, I would be saved.
Brrriiiinngggg…Brrriiinnnggg…
My landline phone takes me out of my reverie. I find myself rubbing my chest. I feel the pain brought upon my musing earlier. The phone is still ringing when I slowly get up to answer it.
"Hello?"
"Bella, it's Martha."
Update very soon!
