Readers,
This story is warped,and may anger some. No sexual innuendo or what not, just plots that may not please many.
"Tell me more about Edward Cullen." Monique pondered. I sighed as began telling my cousin the countless stories of hatred that was my life with the notorious Edward Cullen.
"There's nothing to tell! He's an ignorant, up himself jerk with no regards for others feelings." I stated, pursing my lips and nodding once. I was quite pleased with my summed up interpretation of the infinite reason I could not stand Cullen.
"But Bella, there has to be a reason that you hate him so much!" Monique pressed, her eyebrows mashing together in frustration. Nope. None at all. Besides that he wanted to drink my blood. I bet little Edward was expecting me to run into his arms and be like 'Oh! Edward! Make me like you are! I don't care if I have to leave my family and drink the blood of poor little animals for all eternity!' Uh, no. I don't date horrible inhuman creatures. No heartbeat, no deal.
Not to mention his attitude to me now. He still had the nerve to look at me with an expression of longing, as if he were trying to 'dazzle' me back into his embrace. Egotistical maniac.
"I told you why I hate him so much. And you're not to go near him when you arrive at school. Do you understand?" I looked deep into my cousins green eyes and bestowed upon her the fury that was caged in my brown ones. She gazed at me with a curious and probing look that made my façade falter for a moment. The reason I had given her for my aversion to the Cullen's was not entirely truthful…
"I understand. Only because I do not wish to hurt you." Monique sighed and surrendered. I smiled smugly at my triumph.
"By the way, I hope you packed warm clothing, Forks is nothing like Australia." I injected, swaying the conversation. Monique looked at me, then at the rain that pelted the side windows of Charlie's cruiser and gave me a look that distinctly said: "No shit, Sherlock."
" I did, by the amount of times you told me it was hard to forget." Monique held up the parka she carried in her hands and gestured towards the luggage that was in the boot of the car. I put a hand on her shoulder and said with a sense of mock seriousness, "Cousin. You have one parka in Forks. You will go far in life. No, seriously, you brought more than one right?" Monique blinked a couple of times and raised her palm to her face.
The car remained silent for a few minutes. I sensed a tension in the air, besides the fact that Monique was idly staring out of the window into the misty haze that she had doomed herself too. It might have had something to do with the fact that Charlie was singing very loudly, and very badly, to an old Beatles song.
"Won't you miss it?" I asked suddenly, breaking the silence.
"Miss what?" She replied, yet never withdrew her gaze from the passing figures and buildings shrouded in fog out the window.
"Australia. You know, the heat, the sun…..the guys…"I trailed of suggestively.
"No. First, I'm more the one for things that are cold. Its fresher, you know? Second, sunlight isn't very good for me….I have sensitive skin… Third, the guys are exactly how you described Edward Cullen." Monique stated, a look of repulsion on her face. She glanced at me for a second, then looked back out the window, her expression distant.
It was strange. Monique never did go out into the sunlight. I've seen her occasionally, but even then it was a very hasty movement that she had no pleasure in proceeding with. And the lack of Vitamin D was taking a toll on her. She had pale white skin, but with a rosy tinge to her cheeks and bright crimson touching her lips. She stood out in Australia, the same way I did in Arizona.
"What's with you and the sun anyway?" I thought back to Edward, and why he couldn't go in sunlight. Glittering asshole. I snorted at the resemblance Monique had to a vampire. Her bad luck I guess.
"There's nothing wrong with the sun, it's just personal preference. And my paper thin skin! And why did you laugh?"
"Personal joke." I retaliated defensively. She continued to stare out the window and for the rest of the car trip to Charlie's. I wondered what was so damned interesting about that window, but I thought it better to leave her to her thoughts. She was probably pondering what she was thinking to come here… just like I did.
"Home sweet home!" I exclaimed as I got out of the cruiser and stared at Charlie's house. I smiled as I thought about the time I was new here. How all that had changed. It had been a year since I first arrived at Forks. I glanced around the yard to see Mike's van in the driveway. Charlie got out of the driver's seat and groaned at the sight of Mike, leaning nonchalantly against his parked van.
"Mike's here!" I squealed, and bounded towards lone figure. I had been with Mike for a steady eleven months. He smiled as he saw me running towards him and his angelic baby blue eyes glistened underneath his slightly damp, golden locks.
"Hey babe!" Mike called. I reached him without a moment to spare and kissed him full on the lips. When we broke apart he smiled smugly and winked.
"It's only been since yesterday."
"Hours too long." I said between pants of excitement. Just then, I heard my father's gruff voice call me.
"Bella! Come and help your cousin!" I sighed and ran over to where Monique and Charlie were struggling with bags. There weren't that many, but they were heavy for their size.
"Monique, this is Mike. Mike, Monique!" I gestured to each of them and Monique held out her hand to greet Mike.
"Pleased to meet you." She responded formally. Her chocolate brown hair fell over her shoulder as she picked up two of the heaviest bags with slightly more ease than Charlie.
"You too." Mike took Monique's hand and squeezed it gently. Monique went back to picking up her bags and followed Charlie who held the rest of them into the house. I followed them in and sat down on the couch. Mike flopping lazily over the seats, head in my lap. I played with his hair idly as Monique dragged her bags through the living room.
"Your room is upstairs to the right. Opposite Bella's. Oh, I'm sorry, there's only one bathroom." Charlie admitted sheepishly. Monique smiled and nodded and headed towards the stairs, lugging her bags along behind her. She glided up the stairs seemingly effortlessly , with Charlie puffing and panting behind her.
"So, fill me in on your cousin." Mike started. I sighed; this was going to be a long story. I gathered my thoughts and calculated an adequate response.
"OK. Um, well, Monique's parents, actually, Monique's mother, died giving birth to her; they didn't know who her father was. Her mother was… that type… if you know what I mean." I gave a knowing look to Mike who gave a sorrowfull half-smile. "She had been staying in Australia with her grandparents up until now. They died a few weeks ago… Strange really…But long story short, she had no where else to go. So Charlie invited her to with us." I inhaled heavily and finished.
"But, what do you mean, they died? They were sick? Tell me more, how old is she, what's she like, what should I expect?" Mike pressed. I rolled my eyes at his need for detail and continued.
"Monique's grandparents died of an animal attack. They were out camping in the bush close to their home when Monique was away for the weekend. She was the one who found them. So don't mention them or anything. She's our age, and keeps mostly to herself. She's not really a people person, you know? So expect polite greetings, but not warm conversations." I thought over my information and nodded.
I had covered all the necessary stuff.
"Ok, then, Say hi, bye, please, and thanks. That about it?" Asked Mike innocently. He looked at me with his adorable, puppy dog, ice blue eyes and I melted under their incapacitating gaze. I nodded and gave him a kiss, molding my lips to his, feeling their soft embrace. I felt the blood begin to pump in my veins, faster and faster, felt the pace of my heart sprint, as if dancing. I could never imagine this reaction to a touch with anybody except Mike.
"Um, excuse me, Bella?" I quickly turned my head around to see Monique standing in the corner of the room with her nose crinkled and her fists balled up, making her knuckles white. She looked away, embarrassed at the scene she had walked in on, yet somewhat repulsed by a smell of some sorts.
"What is it?" I asked impatiently. I hated it when people interrupted my make out sessions with Mike. First Dad, then the gym teacher that one time and now my cousin. Monique blushed, even though her face still showed all the signs of disgust. I remembered that face. She used to make it when we were little, whenever I fell over and scraped my knee. Whenever she made that face, grandma used to get worried. She also made that face when the doctors were taking blood from my arm last spring. She said she felt nauseas, so the doctor checked her out and her heart bet was off the charts. Eh, she's just weird I guess. Australian.
" Um, do, do you mind if I sit with you at lunch tomorrow? Just until I get settled in." Monique stepped back a few steps from me and pressed herself firmly against the wall. She looked uncertain, like a deer in the head lights, but retained her menacingly revolted expression.
"Yeah sure, whatever." She nodded and walked up the stairs, whilst I went back to kissing Mike. But Mike pulled his head back as I leaned in, rejecting my embrace
"What's with her face? She's so pretty, but she looked like she smelled something bad." Mike pointed towards the stairs and raised one eyebrow. He then made a quick, not-so-subtle show of smelling his armpits.
"She's funny like that. Don't ask me I haven't seen her in a year. She doesn't come up often." Mike nodded, still gazing towards the stairs.
"She's very strange…" Mike added, pressing his lips to my neck. I giggled and felt the blush rise in my cheeks again.
"Yep, Very. But I have to put up with her I guess." I giggled. I like Monique, sure, she was a really great cousin… She was very polite and kind and caring and gave the best Christmas presents… but when it came down to it, she showed me up at everything I tried. And she doesn't even make it seem like there was any effort involved…It's not like its intentional, just annoying to be upstaged. At everything. This then led to many cold shoulders and tantrums over the years.
"Bella?" Charlie called me from upstairs. I moaned and slowly got up from the couch.
"Be right back." I held up a finger for Mike to stay where he was and trudged up the stairs, making a show of my dissatisfaction.
"What is it dad?" I called to him as I reached the top. I walked down the corridor to see him in Monique's new room that used to be his old study. I scowled as I looked at it. It was a fairly large room, with a double bed and mosquito net, desk, rug, easel, and a keyboard. I flinched as I saw the instrument, remembering the vow Monique and I made a few years ago. We swore to each other we would both learn piano as soon as possible. We had just come back from an event our grandparents took us to, where a young, handsome boy was showcasing his compositions. It inspired us so much we begged our parents to let us learn. I took lessons, and thought this would be the one thing I showed her up in. I practiced day and night, and finally was feeling smug about our little competition and how she would be humiliated when I finally beat her.
But the day of the mini concert we held at Christmas, I was conquered once again. I played the first part of 'Fur Elise', the only part I knew and could play, and Monique astounded others as she played 'Claire De Lune'. I gave up piano that day.
"Could you help Monique unpack for me please, Bells? I have to go back down to the station for a bit And send that bloody Labrador home." Charlie gestured towards the bottom of the stairs where Mike was waiting for me.
"But Dad-"
"No buts Bella. Help your cousin. She needs all the help she can get right now." I turned to scowl at Monique who was leaning out of her window, her waist length hair blustering in the breeze, dancing like flames of a chocolate fire.
I thundered down the stairs to a bewildered Mike. "What's the ma-"
"Dad thinks you should leave because Monique needs her space. Monique needs to unpack her things in the larger room. Monique needs her peace so she can settle in smoothly..." And I continued like this until Mike kissed me on the cheek and hurriedly made for the door before my temper rose to a level where inanimate objects were tossed.
Exhaling slowly, I walked back up the stairs to my cousin, who was still staring aimlessly off into the distance. She was way too out of it to be normal. Maybe she had one of those diseases where a kid gets dropped and is permanently retarded but is weirdly good at everything? Like Rain Man?
"Let's get this over with." I mumbled, but Monique didn't budge. She just sat there.
"Hey! Monique!" I yelled at her, quite irritated.
"Hmm? Oh I'm sorry. It's just so beautiful here! I got lost listening to the songs that the wind was singing to me!" She exclaimed. I snorted. She was definitely dropped as a child.
"Poetic aren't we? So, let's unpack." I rubbed my hands together and examined the five suitcases that lay on the floor before me.
"Before we unpack, I want to give you this. Just to say thank you for always being there for me and never saying or thinking a mean word against me. You're my only friend right now." She smiled gently and the sincerity in her eyes overwhelmed me. She opened her suitcase and took out a sketchbook. Opening it, she withdrew a sheet of paper that had been slotted in. My conscience sent a wave of guilt through me at her words.
"Here. I hope you like it. I think it was the hardest drawing I've done yet! I couldn't get you right, the drawing always put you to shame." She mumbled and handed me a large sheet of paper with a drawing of us, so perfect it could have been a photograph.
"Monique, I…I..I don't know what to say! It's so beautiful…I can't thank you enough." I hugged my cousin and walked into my room, placing the beautiful portrait of the two of us onto my bed. I skimmed it with my fingers lightly and smiled. The feeling of aversion all but forgotton.
"So, where to begin?" I asked her as I walked back into her room. I fought back the sudden surge of emotion that her kindness bestowed upon me and began to unzip her cases of luggage.
One case was completely filled with undergarments. I giggled when I held up a black lacy bra with diamantes on it. She blushed and snatched it off me hurriedly. A though crossed my mind and I had to ask out of curiosity…
"Monique? Have you ever-?"
"No. Now put that down." She interrupted me as I picked up a red monstrosity. I giggled furiously and chucked the bra into the draws with the rest of them.
Another one of her cases was filled completely with shoes. I sighed in envy as I placed them on the show rack in the corner of her room.
The third case was filled with art supplies like paints, brushes, canvas, paper, pencils and so on. How stupid. You needed a pencil. And a rubber. I don't even know what half this crap was for…
"You have a complete suitcase dedicated to your art crap?" I asked her, putting on my best 'are you serious' expression. She merely nodded and unpacked the rest of her clothes. She placed the remnants of the last two cases, which actually contained clothes, into the wardrobe and leapt to her feet.
"I'm so thirsty!" She said, then blushed and sat back down again. I laughed at her; she was always very self-conscious about minding her manners in another person's house.
"I'll get you a drink." I stood up and walked downstairs into the kitchen. I grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and walked back up the stairs. Monique had tidied her room up so fast it wasn't funny. It had gone from being utter chaos to being perfectly neat.
"How'd you get this place so neat so fast. Oh, here." I asked her handing the water over. She merely put it on the desk and smiled at me.
"Well, I like to keep my room clean." Monique merely shrugged and sat on her bed, where multiple art supplies were sitting. They barely moved as she flopped onto the mattress with surprising grace.
"Are you nervous about school?" I asked her, sitting beside her on the bed.
"No. Should I be?"
"Well, no, it's just human instinct to fear new things." She flinched at the third word of my sentence.
"Well, then, if it's the human thing to do, I consider myself quite nervous." She laughed awkwardly, touching the back of her neck nervously.
"But that rule doesn't occur to you." I replied seriously. An expression of shock crossed her face and she turned a ghastly pale color. I was surprised that was possible.
"You're a Martian, silly!" I laughed and scuffed up her hair that was arranged into perfectly soft, silky waves. Monique's face eased and she softened her rigid stance.
" Ha ha." She said sarcastically. "For a minute there I thought that you- nothing." She pulled herself up and started fiddling with her art supplies.
"For a minute there you what?" I asked her curiously. I raised an eye brow at her.
"For a minute there I thought you were going to say something discriminating and rude. But Martians aren't that bad." She said quickly. I could tell it wasn't what she wanted to say, but it was a good cover. I didn't argue with her, I merely walked out of her room and into mine. What a pigsty. There were clothes strewn across the floor, books scattered and papers scrunched all over the desk… and a pair of mikes underwear hung from the door handle. I grabbed those and tossed them under the bed.
"Hey Monique, I think I should get you to clean my room!" I yelled as I glanced around the pit of unholy darkness that I lived in. I heard Monique's musical laugh and began tidying up. I cleaned as much as I could be bothered doing, picking up a few clothes from the floor here and there, attempting to dispose of all the failed essays…I surrendered and grabbed my shower bag, heading for the bathroom.
"Hey Monique?" Monique looked up from her sketchbook, fingers smudged with charcoal. She looked perfectly at ease.
"I have shower priority by the way." Monique rolled her eyes at me and went back to drawing.
As I washed my hair I began thinking. Thinking about all the questions that plagued me. Questions that revolved around my cousin's life. The life I knew so little about. I had never seen her enjoy eating something. She always looked like she was about to throw up. No wonder she was so skinny.I never saw her in sunlight, and those times I did it was usually with a reaction that her skin was going to burn right of her bones. Her skin was pale as chalk, yet porcelain smooth. And one more thing I noticed, she was complaining about being 'so very thirsty' earlier on, yet when I went into her room just then, she hadn't touched her water. At all.
But as soon as I thought up the theory that my cousin was one of them, my thoughts were quickly counteracted by logic.
Yes, it was true that Monique was disgusted by the mere sight of food, but she ate it didn't she, and it has been keeping her healthy.
And it's also true that I never saw her in sunlight, but that could be because she is very sensitive to UV rays. Little melanin in the blood.
White skin, vitamin D deficiency.
Porcelain skin, genetics.
But what got me was if she was so thirsty, why didn't she drink. Then once again. I was met by logic. Monique's eyes were not red like James', nor black or topaz like the Cullen's. They were green, a clear, and crisp emerald green. And she had a heartbeat, and not only did it beat, but it beat like a humming birds wings. She also was warm, despite the fact that she was pale white; her embraces were always those of comfort. Like bath water. And she didn't eat me. That was a plus.
But as I mulled things over in the hot water, reality drifted away from me and I welcomed the feel of my dreams with open arms. When the water started to cool, I robotically dried myself and stepped from the sanctum of steam and hot water.
Dressing and clumsily waddling sleepily to the end of the hall, I peeked into Monique's room to see that she was already asleep. Fingers stained with charcoal, sketchbook open on the floor.
I tiptoed to gaze at the drawing before my eyes and sighed at its realistic portrayal. The forest of the Olympic Peninsula was depicted perfectly on the rough paper, the scene from her bedroom window replicated with precise accuracy. I picked the drawing up and dragged my fingertips along the drawing, as if touching it would prove it was not as flawless as it seemed.
But the only repercussions of my actions, was to smear the charcoal down the page. Distorting and warping the image beyond recognition. I felt strangely smug and dropped the ruined drawing and left the room, feeling slightly more confident.
I clambered into my bed and thought for a while. About Mike. About School. About Edward Cullen. But after a long period of time, I thought of the questions that plagued and pulled on the edges of my sanity no longer, but embraced the kiss of slumber.
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