Author's Note: This is my first fanfic! Reviews would be incredibly appreciated
Disclaimer: I do not own the Twilight series or any of its characters, Stephanie Meyer does.
She sat at his bedside listening as Charlie's body slowly failed him. His ragged lungs breathing their last breaths. His tired heart slowly counting down to the inevitable. She could protect so many from so much, but not her father. Not from this.
Anger surged through Bella. Anger at her vampire body which was not equipped to convey grief. She willed herself to shed tears for Charlie.
Charlie deserved tears. He deserved a daughter who could mourn for him properly. Who could cry and shake with grief when his body would give out. A daughter who could attend his funeral without fear of the sun. And who, years later, would awake with a start at night having just dreamt of her beloved Daddy, thinking, just for a moment, that he was still alive.
As she watched the life ebb away from her father, she tried to remember him. Remember him, not as she had seen him for the last thirty-two years of her immortality, but as the very human father of a very human daughter. There was some memory, far away and blurry in the back of her mind that fought to be remembered.
She was small and Charlie was her hero. She was waiting on a dock. Unsure of what to do. Something in her hands. Something slimy. A worm? Yes, and the fishing pole in her other hand. She didn't want to hurt the worm. She looked up and Charlie's warm face appeared, highlighted by the rising sun. It was early morning. He laughed. He tilted his head back and let the laugh shake his entire body. He took the items from her hand. He patted her head and tightened the clips of her life jacket.
That was it. Her murky human memories gave out, like an old film reel. All her childhood love towards her father siphoned down to one tiny memory. It wasn't fair. Bella's body was tense with anguish. But that wasn't right either. She didn't want cold motionless pain. She wanted to sob. She wanted hot messy tears to run down her face. She wanted to choke and gasp for air, and to need Kleenex because her body was unraveling. She wanted to hurt herself with her grief.
She wanted her father back.
Never once, in all of her immortality has she regretted her choice. Never once did she even consider that she had chosen wrong. Until today. Today she wanted to be mortal. To be human.