A/N: I wrote this a year ago, in 2008, and decided to bring it back to life. It was my virgin attempt at Twilight FF anyway.
BROKEN, BY VANILLA SALT
It was dark on 13 September.
Edward Cullen stands, motionless in the cool autumn breeze, as he watches a white wooden casket being lowered into the earth. People around him are weeping; he and the vampires present the only exception. But he knows only a few of the people are really upset. He has an uncontrollable urge to rip open the casket and shake the fragile body that lies in it and shout, "How could you leave me? What should I do?"
But he resists. He thinks, knows that he's strong enough not to.
The people around him are silent, bowing their heads in respect. Their thoughts are so loud, as though they're screaming at Edward. He tries to tune them out, and surprisingly he's able to do that with most of them, with one exception: Jacob Black's thoughts. Jacob knew of his abilities, and although he was standing far away from Edward, his thoughts still stung. He was thinking of Bella, how she had looked like when Sam Uley had found her in the forest. So pale, so inhuman. He had seen corpses with better colour.
Then the thoughts changed. Bella was standing in Jacob's house, looking tired, worn-out. Her hair was tangled. She had black, purplish rings under her eyes, like she had many a sleepless night. She looked so weak. The thoughts in his head changed again, and this time, it was on the beach of La Push, and Bella was sitting alone, hugging herself, holding herself together. Jacob had found her and brought her home.
Unknowingly, Edward let a growl escape his lips. How badly he wanted to be there at that point of time, to comfort her. The thoughts continued flashing by, but one lingered. Bella was standing on the edge of a cliff. She had stood there for a few moments, and a small smile appeared on her face. She took a deep breath and jumped off the cliff. She had screamed- not in fear, but in exhilaration- as she dropped off the cliff. She had fallen into the black, murky waters below.
Edward waited, but she never came back up. Jacob had gotten back in time to save her, but after she had not responded to CPR, he had rushed her to Forks General Hospital, where Charlie, Billy and his friends were gathered. She was in the operation theatre for two hours while the doctors attempted to save her. At exactly 10.52p.m, she was pronounced dead.
Then, Jacob had mentally screamed at Edward. "You filthy bloodsucking leech. Bella would have never jumped off that damn cliff if you had never left. You left to keep her safe, and in the end you killed her. Great job. This is your entire fault." He had then left the funeral, and soon Edward heard a wolf howling, running away. Billy, Sam, Quil, Embry, Seth and Leah stayed put, however. Jacob had to be alone.
But Edward realised that Jacob was right. He knew Bella wasn't committing suicide. She was, ironically, cliff diving. However, she wouldn't have done it if she wanted to forget him. Heck, she had spent the seven months away from him trying to move on, like he had intended. But she had never succeeded. Edward looked around him. He recognised his family, Jessica, Angela, Mike, Eric, Tyler, Lauren, Billy, Charlie, Sam, Quil, Embry, Seth, Leah, Emily, Renée and some of Bella's relatives. Most of them had turned and glared at Edward, blaming him, and some of them, like Esme, had looked at him with comforting eyes.
But it didn't matter. Nothing did, now that Isabella Swan had died. He knows that nothing he does now will bring her back. He knows that crying is useless. Even if he could cry, he probably wouldn't. He remembers the eulogy Father Harlem gave a few moments ago, how he rambled on about how tragic this incident was, how sudden that Bella had died due to her virgin attempt at cliff diving. He described everyone, saying that Charlie had been a good man and a good father, and that Renée was a good mother and had raised Bella good and proper. He also spoke of Bella, Edward's Bella. He could bear it no longer, hearing about her. He tuned out the noise around him- the organ's sad tune, the sniffling of the crying people around him. He instead focused on his surroundings.
He was at Forks graveyard, a stone's throw away from Forks High School. Alice and Jasper were in a secluded corner of the graveyard. Alice gazed at Edward, and when he turned around to look at her she had hastily turned and dropped her head. Jasper had smiled grimly at him before turning and murmuring into Alice's ear. Rosalie and Emmett had their backs facing him. Carlisle and Esme were looking at him worriedly. Edward turned away. He felt ashamed, disappointed in himself. He couldn't bear Esme's never dying concern. He turned and saw that the coffin had almost disappeared into the earth.
Bella, his loved one, was leaving him-forever. To be stuck underground to decompose and be consumed by pests.
He couldn't bear the pain anymore. So he ran. Edward turned and ran away, but at a human rate. He doesn't want to expose his family. He had done so much damage already. Carlisle's thoughts echoed in his head: "Do what you deem fit, Edward."
He heard people calling, "Come back, Edward! It's not over!"
Oh yes it is, Edward thinks as he storms away from the graveyard. When he is safely away from human eyes, he starts running, a blur to human eyes. Soon, he finds himself in Bella's bedroom. The windows were bent in the wrong direction due to his force in ripping them open. He strolls around aimlessly, and while walking to Bella's bedside, he notices a small, battered, much-abused book with the words BELLA SWAN scrawled on the cover. He leans down to look at in closer. Wuthering Heights. He picks it up, and notices a black bookmark marking a page. He opened the book to notice a paragraph in that page, Heathcliff was speaking.
He'd read this book many times, but it seemed to drag him closer.
"And there you see the distinction between our feelings: had he been in my place and I in his, though I hated him with a hatred that turned my life to gall, I never would have raised a hand against him. You may look incredulous, if you please! I never would have banished him from her society as long as she desired his. The moment her regard ceased, I would have torn his heart out, and drank his blood! But, till then-if you don't believe me, you don't know me-till then, I would have died by inches before I touched a single hair of his head!"
Edward laughed- his voice is rough, menacing even. The paragraph seemed so apt to descirbe the situation.
But of course, Edward would never have drunk the dog's blood, unless Bella told him to. He walked around before stopping at her wardrobe. He wanted so badly to remember her, and he hoped that the closet, full of her clothes would have he wanted so badly. He tore off the doors of the closet as though they were made of paper, and it hit him instantly.
Bella's scent.
He relaxed immediately. Her scent was like heroin to him. It reminded him of her. Was she really dead? It didn't seem that way. He turned to stare at himself in her mirror. The person he saw in the mirror was a stranger. The stranger had tousled bronze hair, and had eyes as black as onyx, with deep purple circles under his irises. He had perfect features.
It hit him- the stranger was him.
He touched the mirror, and he shattered it almost instantly. He snarled. "Damn. They always break." He looked down at the broken bits of glass. They reflected his face. His eyes were so dark. How long had it been since he went hunting? He calculated- it had been exactly a month.
He had to find Bella. Without her, he wouldn't be able to do anything, let alone hunt. Just to make sure she was safe. The last part of his mind- the one part that kept up with reality-screamed at him. Edward, she's never coming back. Let go.
"Shut up," Edward growled. He didn't bother to fix the windows. He simply kicked them aside, and in the process, forced them off their hinges and caused them to crash to the grass below. He rolled his eyes, and jumped out of Bella's room. He ran. In five minutes, he was in his meadow. And there she was. It was twilight. T
he sun was setting, and she was lying in the meadow, the breeze blowing her hair around. Her eyes were closed. Slowly, Edward approached. She opened her eyes, smiled and turned to gaze at him. "Edward." She said smoothly. She held out her hand. Edward walked towards her, and tried to take her hand. But he felt nothing. He blinked, and looked around him. "Bella?" He looked around him, and he was alone. He turned, but he saw nobody in the meadow.
Reality hit- Bella was really, truly, dead. He fell, and stayed that way for a immeasurable moment. Then he went home. In half an hour, he was in his room. He grabbed a pen, a piece of paper, and scrawled,
I'm going to Italy. Don't come after me. I'm sorry.
Edward sped to the garage. He had no time to lose. Alice would have already seen this, and he was sure Esme would go after him. Edward jumped in his Aston Martin-it was the fastest car in the lot-and raced to Skyway Harbour Airport. He ignored the six black shadows racing after him in the distance. Soon, they gave up chase and stopped. " Goodbye, Edward. We'll miss you. "
This was definitely Esme. Carlisle, Emmett, Jasper, Alice and Rosalie's thoughts were similar. But he didn't care about that then. All that mattered was seeing Bella as soon as possible. He was going to Italy, to meet Bella. He wasn't coming back, ever.
Edit; I wanted to make it more special, so I added this in, even though I no longer love Twilight as much as I used to. Kind of like a drabble, actually…
He was confused, and that was easy to tell.
I don't really think he's sad, but I was never really able to understand him, not really. He was so cryptic.
I don't really think he'd weep if he had the chance to, because firstly, I'm sure that he knows that crying will not help in the least, other than break my non-existent heart.
I am translucent and invisible to all, and even the sharp immortal eyes present do not see me.
But I can see, that ever so slowly, his mask cracks. He is saddened by my loss. Those months of waiting were not in vain; I know he will join me soon. Eventually, one day, he will come back to me. And I would be waiting.
Isabella Swan's ghost vanished into the proverbial cold mist of Forks, Washington. She was waiting.
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