He's Gone

by inspire me edward

Bella compares what she thinks in the morning to her radio. Just like Edward, she learned to tune the thoughts because she doesnt want to hear them. But when doing so she automatically thinks of him. She compares thoughts of him to the rain she dislikes.

I felt the stinging behind my eyes, I knew they were glassy. I knew that Charlie was up because I knew I was his personal alarm. I knew that the perspiration setting in on my neck should feel uncomfortable against my frigid, weather indicating pillow. I knew too much. Those thoughts coming to mind the second I'm awake is one thing but knowing the cause of it was another. Knowing that every morning I thought this, these very same three things, it was too much to handle because I knew that most mornings I tuned out those thoughts, but it only made the subconscious thought behind them clear. If I tuned out those other three thoughts I turned down the untouched radio in my room but it only made the patter of rain on my window clearer. But I like to think I wasn't crying because of something I felt in my unconscious mind, screaming as I do so, that I didn't wake up Charlie as I had the night before and before and so on, to think that the purpose of letting it out through the night to keep Charlie from suffering wasn't an effort wasted. So when being accustomed to tuning out my internal radio I heard the rain of my thoughts. I never like the rain, yet the clouds never stopped crying so those dreaded rain drops pattered on the window in my mind replacing the usual plop and slush with the thought hitting me as hard as it hit the window it pattered "He's Gone".