Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight
So basically, this is just this little one-shot I wrote because I was bored. There's not much dialogue, just Bella's thoughts about Edward while he's gone, and how she decides to kill herself/jump off the cliff. I guess you can say it's sort of AU...but not really? It's different then in the book, obviously, but...yeah. Um, I'll be quiet now! ENJOY!
"Ugh, where is it?" I slammed my desk drawer shut with a loud boom; the sound vibrating through my room and resting in my mind like a painful memory.
I then sank down to the cold floor, my back running against the drawers of my desk as I dropped. My head found my hands, and my slow heartbeat ran through every nerve in my body.
It will be as if I never existed.
The words were imprinted in my mind, as a stamp on an envelope; torturing my every step, my every thought, my every dream.
My dreams in which he didn't exist, in which I had nothing; no meaning at all in my life, haunted me at night. I would be running, trying to find him, trying to find someone who didn't exist, who haunted my memories as if he was the love of a past life I led.
In the dreams, he was someone that didn't exist, someone I didn't even know.
I let the darkness of my hands pressing against my eyes disappear as they scanned over the scrapbook at my feet.
The blank spot on the page, where glue had obviously been, was gone.
It will be as if I never existed.
He had taken the pictures; he had taken everything that reminded me of him away. He never thought that when he left, he should have taken my life as well. My very being, my very soul, something he didn't have, my very heart, also something he didn't have, and my very mind all contained him.
I had no life, no meaning at all in this world.
I had no reason to stay in rainy Forks; I had no reason to live here anymore, to pursue anything.
To wait.
A small hand mirror caught my attention, and, with shaking hands, I reached over and grabbed it.
The cold, hard matter touched my hands, and all of the air in my lungs was sucked out, I gasped so hard.
It felt like him, it felt like the touch that I had missed, that I dreamt of getting from the unknown being.
I slowly brought the mirror up to my face; my hands barely steady enough for me to clearly see my pale features.
A visage stared back at me, my lips a soft pink, and chapped. The one thing that was brought out were my eyes; dark and lifeless. There were just two round balls of black staring, no anger, no sadness, and no happiness.
There wasn't anything left.
My chocolate brown hair dropped down my back. It too had no life, no existence for anything. It sat there, barely moving with the steps I made, clearly, it, as well as I, was missing it's cold block that it laid on every night when I fell asleep.
I felt like a zombie, roaming the school, my house, and the streets, not knowing where I'm going, what I'm living for.
He was what I was living for.
He was the one that brought meaning to my everyday life, the one who would hold me as I fell asleep, the one who would never let anything harm me, or even think about harming me.
I stood up, my knees wobbling as I did so. I had to grip the back of my desk chair for a balance.
My room was disorganized, not the neat, tidy way I left it everyday for him. The rocking chair that sat in the corner, where he sat and watched me sleep after I fell asleep in his arms was covered in haphazardly thrown clothes; a much needed coat hanger now that he was gone.
I couldn't even bear to speak his name, it brought my heart to ache and break every time I heard it or his last name.
Charlie doesn't understand why, but he also doesn't understand the love that we shared for one another in our hearts. He would tell me, 'Bells, you're a teenager, it's just a little love spell that cupid's played on you,' but I knew it was more then that. We both knew it was more then that.
But we'd never be able to show him how much we loved each other.
The white phone that sat on my desk was covered in dust; I hadn't bothered to pick it up, because he never called.
The black mailbox outside of my window and down the driveway was covered in spider webs; he never sent any letters.
My inbox was filled up with letters from my mom; he never sent me any e-mail.
The sunset, for once, showered trough the open window, reflecting off of the mirror in my hands, the sparkles dancing over my face as I twisted it in the sunlight.
"Just like Edward." I whispered, and then I threw the mirror down onto my bed, storming over and slamming the window, locking it in the process.
The window had always been open, always waiting for his return when he would hold me in his arms, kiss my lips, and tell me that he loved me. Now, the window was closed; my heart was finally sealed.
He wasn't coming back, the shuttering of the window and the lack of pictures made me believe that. I should take the last memory of Edward away; my life should cease to exist.